#and what that tells us about gender roles

[dix0nspretty]

Baby Treatment

Summary: Price's partner had a rough day, so he decides to let Daddy take care of baby.

Captain John Price x GN!Reader, 1.3k words

Era: N/A

TW: Age play, usage of 'baby' and similar names for reader, 'Daddy' used for Price. Should be gender-neutral throughout.

Day 2 of my bastardized version of Russian Roulette Febuwhump/Kinktober for March that I'm affectionately calling Trinket's Cause of Death. It's basically 50/50 whump/kink where I generate a number corresponding to a prompt.

Day 2: Age play with Price (kink)

“- and then I dropped my phone in a puddle, and I missed lunch and then my boss yelled at me,” you continue to ramble to John about your day, seating cozy in his lap. His hand is running gently through your hair, scratching at your scalp as the other rubs your thigh at a lazy pace. You came home from work to greet John, who is actually home for once and not sequestered away on base or in some foreign country, but your attitude immediately caught his attention with a raised brow.

“What’s wrong with my baby, hmm? What happened, sweetheart?” The croon in his soft, loving voice was all it took to have you bursting into tears and rambling about your day. He slipped your shoes off for you and corralled you into the bedroom as you rambled, pulling you into his lap and handing you a stuffed animal to hold before wrapping you up in those strong, capable arms. “Tell me about today, kiddo.”

“Today sucked,” you summarize with a teary sniffle as you stay curled in his lap, being soothed under his touches. “I don’t wanna do an-anything else today. I don’t wanna.” “Shhhh, kiddo,” John croons into your ear and rubs your thigh gently. “I know. Why won’t you let Daddy take care of his baby, yeah? Work all this tension out?” His hand running over your scalp and the fabric of your pants has you wet and the idea of surrendering control entirely to your partner for a little bit has you nodding out consent. “Yeah…” “Let’s get you up then,” he murmurs and shifts your entire body like you weigh nothing. You might as well, with how much he can bench. “Hold tight to your stuffie, love, wouldn’t want to lose him.” How the Captain manages to scoop you up as if you’re actually a small child is a feat of strength you’d normally tease him about if you weren’t so ready to give up on thinking and controlling and being anything other than good for John. He pulls the blankets back and deposits you into the soft sheets, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The whine you let out when he leaves the bed has the man laughing softly. “Hush, baby, be good. Just turning the lights down, love. I’m coming back for ya.”

And come back he does. He turns the main lights off so the bedroom is lit only by the fading evening glow and the few bedside lamps, a gentle orange lighting helping to subconsciously ease the tension from your body. John gently rearranges your body so he can undress you, crooning out praises and compliments as he strips each article of clothing off. “Look at those pretty feet,” A gentle kiss to the top of your foot in his hand as he peels your socks off. “These strong calves keeping you up all day,” A kiss to the muscle. “Your tired little knees,” Another kiss. “Capable thighs.” Another. “Abs,” kiss, “Tummy keeping you fed,” kiss, “Arms,” kiss. Hands, wrists, shoulders, neck, chin, and finally a soft and languid kiss to your lips. Not pushing or taking but giving. Giving you peace and relaxation and the ability to let go and trust he’ll catch you. Every time you have a day like this, where you act brattier and a little childish, where you need to relinquish control over to someone else, John’s here for you. Ready and capable of easing fully into that Daddy role he always partially has with you. Ready to pamper his sweet baby and make sure you don’t have to think about anything except being taken care of.

He trails kisses over every available stretch of skin as he works you to a state you can take him in with one hand. The other, large and warm and scraping so nicely with the callouses of someone who knows work, is running up and down the curve of your side and hips. “There you go, sweetheart,” John whispers to you as he finally sinks in, inch by maddening inch until your hips are flush and the only thing you can focus on is being full. “There, focus on Daddy. Let me make it go away, all that stress and tension. Just focus on me. Yeah?” Only once an acceptance is given does he start to move, each roll of his hips slow and filled with intention to please you. John knows what you need and it’s not dominant, rough Price. You need loving and gentleness, and he’ll give that to you. He swallows up each cry and moans from your lips with kisses just as soft and languid as his thrusts, dragging at a pace that ensures you gain maximum pleasure. In and out, in and out… “Taking me so well, sweetheart,” he groans into your throat. “So well. Good job, baby, there you go. Doesn’t that feel nice? My pretty little angel, all nice and warm and behaving so perfectly for Daddy. Good, honey, good.”

John bullies your walls so perfectly, more familiar with your body than you are by now. He knows the exact spots to bump with the wet tip of his cock, how you’ll pulsate and flutter around him if he does this… “Feel that? Feel Daddy making his baby feel better?” One of those familiar hands settles on your abdomen and presses down, drawing an arch and a moan from your lips. He can’t deny that watching you cry out so sweetly and fumbling to hold onto him strokes his ego just a bit. “Yeah, you hold onto me. Hold onto me and don’t hold back. Stop thinking. I can hear those little gears trying to turn.” Even with his release so close, his balls drawing up tight and just begging to fill you up, he’s going to gift you two orgasms at least before giving himself to satisfaction. What kind of Daddy would he be if he didn’t take care of his baby first and foremost? “I feel how close you are, love,” He murmurs into your ear, keeping you in missionary and split open on his cock so he can keep an eye on you. No ability to hide away, just eye contact and intense connection, in more ways than one. “Don’t bother holding it back. Just let go, baby. I’ll give you more, pretty, just let go.” “Johnnn,” his name spills from cock-drunk lips, tears gathering in your eyes from the pleasure and ecstasy you can just barely touch. One of those strong hands wraps around your jaw and gently guides you to keep eye contact. “Try again, pretty…” your partner chides even as he never stops his hips. The gentle disappointment is worse than if he left you high and dry and you sniffle wetly, shaking as the hot molten ball in your stomach begs to fall apart. You’re quick to fix your mistake as you come, arching under his body with a cry of his name. “Daddy. Daddy, Daddy-” He talks you through your release as he continues that delicious slow drag through your walls, even as your body fights to simultaneously evict him or drag him even deeper into you. “There you go, sweetheart. There you go, don’t you look so perfect like this? What a pretty, handsome baby. Doin’ so well for me, taking me so good.”

Once you decide to tap out for the night, he administers the best aftercare of your life. John draws a warm bath and washes every inch of your skin and hair, feeding you the snack he prepares for you every time he provides aftercare. Consistency is key. He reminds you repeatedly of how good you were as he dries your body off and gets you into a pair of his boxers and one of his shirts, how sweet and perfect you are and how much he loves you while changing the sheets and getting you tucked into his chest. “Get some sleep, sweetheart,” John murmurs into your damp hair with a kiss. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

And you know he will be, with a plate of delicious food and plenty of water. Only the best for his baby.

[savage-sinister]

If you're a person who thinks "we should keep triggering material out of fiction" instead of "people have a responsibility to avoid triggering material and manage themselves when they're triggered" I urge you to read this description of what happened to me last night.

Triggers I encountered one after another last night:

La Pucelle:

Catholic-adjacent religion and religious instruction

Being put down and insulted by authority figures

Abuse of authority portrayed as righteous

Physical abuse as a means of control by a religious figure (played for laughs)

Censorship as a means of control by a religious figure (played for laughs)

Rhapsody 2:

Lesbian character pining for her best friend who is looking for a hetero relationship to fulfill the expected lifescript

Physical child abuse portrayed as loving, righteous and necessary

Emotional child abuse uncommented on

Emphasis on filial piety and fulfilling the path your parents have for you

Parental emphasis on a female child's role as a mother and creator of heirs

Gender issues resulting from attempting to fulfil filial piety when female

Weddings and babies as happy endings

Characters with gender issues getting married and having babies

I didn't realize how massively triggered I was until after I had already:

been shifting positions on the couch repeatedly trying to get comfortable

got angry for "no reason" and yelled at my cat

spoke more roughly than I intended to to my partner

cried off and on for two hours

asked to go to bed early

cried some more

And only then when I was laying down in bed did I have the presence of mind to reflect and go, 'oh wait, all of that was really triggering. Like, so triggering I have a lot of it written down in my pinned post so that people don't bring the topics up to me'. Only then did it click why I had gotten mad and why I had started crying. 

And like, you might ask 'well how did you not know that you were triggered', but that's just a thing that happens with CPTSD. It sneaks up on you. None of those things I listed in what triggered me sounds all that bad! Like, when it happens you go 'oh yeah that sucks' maybe, if you even register it, but there it is preying at the back of your mind like a vampire.

My eyes are actually stinging as I write this to get it off my chest.

Rhapsody 2 and La Pucelle are a couple of classic, pixel graphic RPGs from NIS with a fantasy setting and a heavily fairytale inspired style. Rhapsody 2 is a musical, and La Pucelle has themes of Joan of Arc.

When I sat down to play these games (happily! willinging!) I was prepared for two triggers. I was all prepared and armed up for 'religion and religious education' and 'Weddings and babies as happy endings'. Everything else took me by surprise, caught of off guard, and slid a knife into my ribs.

They punched all my buttons in rapid fire combo without me noticing and then "fist of the north star"ed me. By the time I'd noticed I was already fucked up over it.

"Why am i upset?" Oh, just because there was a ton of triggering content in the happy fairytale baby game for children

In La Pucelle:

Prier is a child being raised as a demon hunter for the church. She is repeatedly put down for her 'unrealistic' dreams and goals, and when she does something that her superior doesn't like, she's hit and gaslit about it. (Told that she was punished by the goddess.) This is played for laughs. 

Every time Prier gets upset and says something that her superior doesn't like, her superior tells her she's never allowed to use the word she used again. (this is played for laughs.)

In Rhapsody 2:

Princess Kururu is going on a journey to 'find her prince to marry', accompanied by two knights, and by her childhood best friend Crea who loves her and never wants to be separated from her. Crea gets swallowed by a fish by accident but she's confident that Kururu will save her and refers to Kururu as her own prince while Kururu is absent.

After Crea is rescued, the lady knight who accompanied Kururu (named Sonia) smacks Kururu hard across the face because she "needed to be taught a lesson" and "everyone is too soft with her". This is a repeat of a moment from Rhapsody 1 where another character's father smacks her across the face and the narrative treats this as something that she needed and was done because he loves her and she's a spoiled brat.

Directly after Sonia hits Kururu we then learn Sonia's backstory. Sonia is the only child of a famous knight who desperately wants a son to carry on his legacy, but his wife is too weak to have another child. Sonia is put down for her aspiration to become a knight and her father's heir herself, and told that she should be getting married and having a child to fulfill her duty to him. Sonia expresses that she has no interest at all in men. Spoilers! Sonia's happy ending is that she gets married to the other knight and has a baby!

And those things, one after another, were, I guess, enough to reduce us to a crying, yelling mess without even realizing what was happening. Which is stupid! None of this shit should be enough to do that to someone, but it is.

So please, if you're a person who thinks "We should keep all triggering material out of fiction" remember that you don't know what triggers people, and if we censored everything triggering from fiction you're gonna have to remember to never write anything that triggers me, too.

Triggers aren't just sexual assault and violence. Triggers are babies, weddings, churches, and gender issues.

[aster-aspera]

Can't believe Iphigenia and Iphianassa are the same person, but Eteocles and Eteoclus are two different guys

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

One thing that struck me: We need more fathers who hang out with their childfree/less friends WITH their kids.

When I want to meet a friend who has a baby or toddler, we have to "make do with the circumstances" and hang out in their home, the park, or take a walk with the stroller. When my friends' husbands want to hang out with their friends, they go out in the evening, go drinking or to the movies, or dinner, or to the gym, or whatever. They don't go for long walks with the stroller and just talk.

It's really unfair, not just in the relationship between the parents, but to their friends, because it signals that his friends are worth more than hers.

[thatwitchrevan]

The thing about armchair diagnosing cis people as trans is that if you accept that everyone's understanding of gender is deeply personal and that you shouldn't tell someone they're not trans or not trans in the right way, you should also accept that you can't tell someone they are trans or that they're not cis in the right way. Or that they have to either identify as trans or cis.

These are all just words and there's never any excuse to argue with someone over who they are.

I don't think most people are genuinely trying to overrule the 'cis in a gnc way' perspective but even being flippant about it is not helpful. Also I think cis people talking about gender in complex and fun ways is very cool.

[markrosewater]

I want to speak out against the whole push towards DEI. I feel that ever since you made the push to make identity the forefront of a character it has hurt the stories you tell. Captain Sisay's race was never the focus of her character and she was a complete badass! And I fear if you did it over again Gerrard would be trans, black and disabled just because. It also cheapens the stories of world devastation when characters worry more about their gender than Bolas destroying everything.

The reason I started this blog is so we can have frank conversations about things, so please let’s talk about this.

Imagine if every time you turned on the TV or watched a movie, no one looked like you. For some of us, that’s never happened. We see ourselves constantly, so it’s hard to truly understand what not seeing yourself represented in media is like.

I do have a personal window to this experience. While I am white and male, there’s an area where I am the minority - my religion. Jews are just under two and a half percent of the US population. I have had many experiences where I’ve been in situations where everything is geared towards a group I do not belong to, and zero consideration is given that not everyone at that event is part of the majority.

You just feel invisible and like an outsider. It’s not a great feeling. And I just experience it a tiny portion of time, only things that are geared specifically towards something religious. Most minorities have this feeling all the time, whenever they’re outside their personal community.

Now imagine, after years of not seeing yourself ever, you finally see someone that looks like you, but nothing about the character rings remotely true. They don’t sound like you, they don’t act like you, the facts about their day-to-day life are just wrong. It’s clear whoever wrote the character didn’t truly understand the lived experience of the character, so the character feels fake.

You bring up Sisay. Michael Ryan and I didn’t technically create Sisay (she played a small role in the Mirage story), but we did do a lot to flesh out her character as the creators of the Weatherlight Saga. We turned her from a minor character into a major one.

And while I’m proud, in general, of our work on the Weatherlight Saga, I don’t think we did justice to Sisay as a character. Neither Michael nor I have any knowledge of what it’s like to be a black woman. Nor did we ever talk to someone who did.

And if you’re someone like us that has no knowledge of that experience, you probably didn’t notice. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing.

Imagine if we made a movie about your life, and we just made everything up. We invented people you never knew, we gave you a job you never had, and we had you say things you’d never say. The movie might even be a good movie, but your response would be, but that’s not my life - that’s not me.

Now imagine we put the movie out, and people that never met you assumed that was what you were like. When people met you for the first time, they assumed things, because, you know, they’d seen the movie.

That’s what misrepresenting people does. It not only makes them feel not seen, it falsely represents them, spreading lies, often stereotypes, making people believe things about them that aren’t true.

Our move towards diversity is just us trying to better reflect the world and the people in it. We’re trying to do to everyone else what a certain portion of people get every day without ever having to think about it.

But why are we “making it the forefront of their character”? We’re not. We’re making it a part of their character. But in a world where you’re not used to ever seeing it, it feels louder than it is. Things that are a natural part of the world that you’re used to feel like the background of the story because you understand the context to it.

If a man kisses his wife before going off to a battle, that’s not a big deal. It’s just a thing a husband might do to his wife when he leaves. It’s not the forefront of his character. It’s just part of his life. But you’ve seen it hundreds of times, so it feels normal.

When someone does something that isn’t your lived experience it pulls focus. It seems like a big deal, but only because it’s new to you. It’s just as mundane a thing to that character as the man kissing his wife is to him.

Even the turn “pushing” implies that it’s unnaturally here, that we’re forcing something that naturally shouldn’t be. But why? That thing exists naturally in the real world, and it doesn’t make the real world any less. Maybe you’re less aware of it, but is making you aware of how others live their life “pushing” something on you?

How you live your life is represented constantly, everywhere. Why isn’t over-representing your experience at the expense of everyone else’s “pushing” it? Why is media only being the experience of those in power the “proper way”?

Having more depth and variety doesn’t lessen stories. It makes them deeper, more rich, more nuanced. In short, it makes them better stories. In my former life, I was a professional writer. I took a lot of writing classes. One of the truism of writing is “speaking truth leads to better stories”.

There’s another famous quote: “When you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression.” You’re used to being over-represented, so being a little less over-represented feels like something has been taken from you. But really it hasn’t. Having a better sense of the rest of the world comes with a lot of benefits.

I’ll use food as an example. Let’s say all you were ever exposed to was the food of your heritage. Yeah, that food is really good, but sometimes isn’t it nice to eat foods of other nationalities? Isn’t your life better that you have a choice? Isn’t your exposure and access to the food of other nationalities a positive in your life?

Exposure to variety is a positive. It allows you to learn about things you didn’t know, experience things things you’ve never experienced, and get a better sense of understanding of your friends and neighbors.

Our actions are not to harm anyone, and if you think that’s what we’re doing, please take a minute to actually absorb what I’m saying. You’ve spent your whole life metaphorically eating one type of food, and we’re just trying to show you how much you’ve missed out on.

And while this might not impact you directly, we’re making a whole bunch of people felt seen. We’re bringing joy. Think of it this way. We make a lot of cards. Not every card is for you. But if it makes someone else happy, if they get to include it in a deck, and it makes Magic better for them, how is it harming you that we include it? You have so many cards that you can play.

To this poster or people that share their viewpoint, the narrative that a gain for someone else is an attack on you is just not true. As I just pointed out above, you play a game all about personal choice, about players getting to choose how they play and enjoy the game. Why should life be any different than Magic?

Thanks for reading.

[rainbowdoom32]

,

Do you think in the omegaverse there’s a new, awful layer to “the talk” that teens get

[rollforjackass]

i'm currently working on a paper about postmodern gender representations in person of interest as related to jacques derrida's theory of the tympanum, and the most annoying thing about it is that through my research i have now set up the outlines for a Minimum of 4 other papers before i have written so much as Half of the one i'm currently working on

[drdemonprince]

In a piece for The New Inquiry from back in 2017, George Dust states that when queer people complain about there being a top shortage, what they really mean is “nobody is fucking me the way I want, and I have no agency in that.” Alongside co-authors Billy-Ray Belcourt and Kay Gabriel, Dust suggests that many queer people align themselves with a passive or “bottom” position because they believe that role will absolve them of the guilt of really wanting things. They present themselves as what they believe to be the sexual party with zero power; the receiver, the accepter of action rather than its cause.

This position is drawn in contrast to the bottom-identified person’s idea of a top: the one who approaches, the person with hungers and desires, the person who decides which sexual activities will happen and how intense they will get. The top, from this perspective, is the stronger, more capable, more dangerous person. They’re the only one who can ever be guilty of intruding or harming somebody else. This power is scary, but it’s also compelling.

Dust calls this fantastical version of a top a “brute” — and they are the most cartoonish stereotype of what it means in society to be a man. Because it’s a cartoonish stereotype, no human actually lives up to it — and we’d probably revile a person even if they could.

Though queer people know we are harmed by the gender binary and heteronormativity and all the social scripts those things force upon us, its biases are still embossed on our brains. Without meaning to, we reproduce tired gender stereotypes in our relationships. And so we see expressing a sexual want as masculine, and being masculine as being more capable of violence and coercive control, and thus bad. We see failing to communicate one’s desires openly as desirably feminine, as well as a sign of blamelessness and purity — because on some level we still feel it is wrong to have desires.

But this entire worldview is a complete lie. Desire is not evil. Expressing attraction is not a violation. Failing to express oneself can be just as dangerous as not listening to someone else’s limits. Women can be abusive. Bottoms can sexually assault. No matter our gender, presentation, or sexual role, we are each capable of harm. And the only way to make a safe, mutually pleasurable sexual encounter happen is by going after it, actively, and communicating from a position of inner strength.

So how do you do that, if society’s been telling you all your life that you’re meant to date by acting like a deer passively snapping twigs in the woods, waiting for some hunter to hear you, and pursue you? (That really is dating advice that Evangelical Christian counselors give to women, if you can believe it).

By not fixating so much on what you’re doing or not doing to draw other people toward you, and instead thinking in terms of what you want and what you observe beyond yourself.

[halfricanloveyou]

femme = girl/SHE and masc = boy/HE!! we can add in a “they” to show inclusivity

yeah that’s just binary gender roles. stop trying to assume all gnc and nonbinary people can be “sorted” into them

guys dont ask me why but doesnt pink give you such she/her vibes... omg and blue is SO he/him... not sure why but it just makes sense ❤

[humanjarvis]

i learned from you

synopsis: while talking with your colleague, you realize caleb is the closest thing you have to a mother figure. 

pairing: caleb x reader, reader is mc tags: light angst, comfort, fluff, reader had a rough childhood, reader has a period, reader and caleb's relationship is ambiguous but he kisses her head once, reader questions existence, reader is kind of a crybaby, grandma josephine implied to be a bum in this no shade to her word count: 1.3k

a/n: i hope this doesn't read weird #imnotintothat i just keep thinking about how caleb fulfills like 6 different roles in mc's life. he is so gender studies to me

“What do you mean you don’t know how to straighten your hair? Didn’t your mom ever teach you?” Tara asks in genuine confusion. 

With your sandwich halfway to your lips, you freeze. Although you were close with your colleagues, you weren’t all that open about your upbringing, for obvious reasons. Before now, everyone had always accepted your reticence on the topic. They’d never been people to overstep, but you guess there’s a first time for everything. 

“I don't remember much about my parents,” you respond carefully. “My memory from before the Wanderers came is a little blurry, sorry.” 

Tara’s mouth forms a small ‘o’ as her cheeks turn scarlet. “I didn’t mean to—” she starts. “I wasn’t trying to—I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” 

You knew she didn’t know. That was kind of the point. Your whole thing was to move through life ignoring your early childhood, pretending you’d simply spawned into Linkon as a tween. But you couldn’t tell Tara that—she was sweet, it was an honest mistake, and she didn’t need your baggage at noon on a Friday.

Scrambling for something to break the tension, you blurt out, “I think she did teach me how to dry it, though!”

The peace offering is bland—to most people, drying hair is nothing special—but it works. Tara jumps back into the conversation, tactfully choosing to talk about her childhood so you could keep yours locked away in the depths of your mind. Crisis averted, you think. 

Except as the minutes tick by and Tara drones on, you realize the crisis is very much not averted. You’d brought up your “mom” teaching you to dry your hair to save you both from an awkward lunch, but when the lie left your mouth, it wasn’t your mother you were thinking of. It wasn’t Grandma Josephine. It was Caleb. 

Caleb had taught you how to dry your hair. It’d happened when you were twelve; a rowdy classmate had snuck up behind you and pushed you into the pool, leaving your hair a tangled, matted mess. When Caleb had found out your teachers were letting you go home early, he’d skipped his last two classes to be right by your side, running a shower for you while you sulked by the bathroom door. After you’d dried off and changed into the pajamas he’d left on the counter, Caleb came in from the hallway, carrying the same towel he’d used to dry your hair countless times before. Section by section, he’d squeezed the water from your hair, showing you how to without frizzing it up. “Not saying that ‘wet cat’ is a bad look on you, but I get the feeling you don’t want to look like that all the time,” he’d quipped. 

Caleb had been there for you for as long as you could remember, you realize. As you walk back to the Hunters Association, halfheartedly entertaining Tara’s chattering, the memories flood your brain: Caleb teaching you math. Caleb nursing you back to health when you had the flu. Caleb packing your lunchbox, Caleb doing your laundry, Caleb holding you through your first period. For all your firsts, all your milestones, and even the dull moments, he had been there. Your head spins as you stare at your desk, not even remembering sitting down. All your life, has Caleb been your only mother figure? 

You go home lost in thought. 

You stay that way for the whole afternoon, nearly forgetting about the movie night you’d planned for that evening with—you guessed it—Caleb. As you float around your apartment on autopilot, tidying up your living room and throwing on comfier clothes, the doorbell rings. He’s right on time. 

“Hey, pipsqueak,” he greets as you welcome him in. “I hope you’re hungry—I brought your favorite snacks.” 

You thank him with a smile, hoping his observant eyes can’t spot the way it wavers. Just two hours, you think. Two hours and then you’ll be free to question your existence all weekend.

The movie plays as normal. It’s easy to escape the worries on your mind with a fantasy blockbuster stealing your attention. It’s only when Caleb offers to make you a late dinner that the weight of your day falls back down to your shoulders. 

“No, that’s okay. I can just order something after you’re gone,” you refuse shyly. Having returned to your earlier haze of overthinking, you make a mistake. As Caleb moves to ruffle your hair, you flinch, dodging under his hand. The ensuing beats of awkward silence are all it takes for him to register that something is off.  

“...You just pulled away from me. You never do that unless you’re upset. Talk to me, pips—did I do something wrong?” He pauses. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” you rush, throwing your hands out in front of you. “No, it’s just…”

When you trail off, he steps closer. “It’s just…what? I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me,” he presses. 

“It’ll sound silly. And weird,” you say quietly, avoiding his gaze. 

“Nothing about you is silly, pipsqueak. Except when you’re actin’ cute for my attention,” he adds, gently poking your nose.  

You reward his efforts to put you at ease with a shaky giggle, finally finding the will to talk. “Earlier, Tara just asked me about my parents—wondering if my mom had ever taught me to do something.” 

Caleb grimaces. 

“And with Gran so busy all the time…and with her…gone…now… I just realized the closest thing I’ve ever had to a mother figure is you,” you breathe, your voice breaking at the end of your confession. 

Caleb’s unreadable gaze makes the tears arrive faster. “It’s just…you’re everything to me, Caleb. You’ve been with me through everything,” you sniffle. “Every role in my life you could possibly play, you play it, and I didn't even notice until now. You’ve spent over half your life guiding me through mine, and I just feel so helpless. I don’t even know if I'd be alive without you, and—”

Your tears constrict your throat, forcing you to pause if you want to breathe properly.

Even though he knows now is a bad time to dote on you, given the circumstances, Caleb would rather eat glass than turn a blind eye to your tears. He quickly shushes you, letting you cry into his sweater, and the more you relax in his embrace, the more you hate yourself. You really can’t do anything without him.

Settling you both on the loveseat, Caleb rocks you for a few moments before he begins. “I didn't know you felt that way, but it seems like you didn't either. Look, pipsqueak,” he sighs, tilting your head up to make eye contact. “Don't ever feel bad about how you were brought up. I won’t let you keep stressing yourself out over something that was never in your control.” He pauses, as if weighing the consequences of his next words. “And if it means anything, which I hope it does, I thank the stars every day that the universe was kind enough to let me take care of you. To see you grow,” he murmurs, pressing a long kiss to your temple. “Any way you'll have me in your life, I'll be there. Never feel ashamed for that.” 

With your heart pounding, you peek up at him, hesitant awe on your still-teary face. He meets your gaze with a soft smile, softly stroking your back, and you wonder what heroic deeds you accomplished in your past life to deserve him. “I’m sorry for pulling away from you earlier,” you whisper, nestling your head into his shoulder. 

You don’t know how long you stay there curled beside him, but the moon is high in the sky when he next speaks.

“So…mother figure, huh?” he asks, voice mischievous now that your tears have dried. “Better me than anyone else. You might have liked her more than me—can’t have that.” 

Lifting your head, you swat his chest. “Caleb!” you groan.  

[this-is-where-i-hide-my-bullshit]

As a trans person, the way some people talk about Gerard's gender expression feels fetishistic as hell. It feels icky, like all you see trans people as is a set of clothes and something to sexualize. Like there's nothing more to us then what YOU get out of us. Like we aren't people, we're just a headcanon to you.

Also transvestigating people, regardless of if they're a stranger or a friend or even a family member, is disrespectful as fuck.

YOU don't decide who someone else is based on what you think are "clues". They TELL YOU and you shut up and listen. Gerard has not come out as a trans woman. Stop being gender essentialist and acting like gender nonconformity is "proof" of anything. You are JUST as bad as people who misgender trans people who don't conform to gender roles. As a trans man I have been misgendered CONSTANTLY for being gender nonconforming, and to hear people say the same stuff transphobes say to me to "prove" I'm "actually a woman" about Gerard and thinking they're being "progressive" is WILD.

Someone else's gender identity is not a puzzle for you to solve. They aren't a riddle or a conspiracy, they are a person.

[brandyschillace]

The Forgotten History of the World’s First Transgender Clinic

I finished the first round of edits on my nonfiction history of trans rights today. It will publish with Norton in 2025, but I decided, because I feel so much of my community is here, to provide a bit of the introduction.

[begin sample]

The Institute for Sexual Sciences had offered safe haven to homosexuals and those we today consider transgender for nearly two decades. It had been built on scientific and humanitarian principles established at the end of the 19th century and which blossomed into the sexology of the early 20th. Founded by Magnus Hirschfeld, a Jewish homosexual, the Institute supported tolerance, feminism, diversity, and science. As a result, it became a chief target for Nazi destruction: “It is our pride,” they declared, to strike a blow against the Institute. As for Magnus Hirschfeld, Hitler would label him the “most dangerous Jew in Germany.”6 It was his face Hitler put on his antisemitic propaganda; his likeness that became a target; his bust committed to the flames on the Opernplatz. You have seen the images. You have watched the towering inferno that roared into the night. The burning of Hirschfeld’s library has been immortalized on film reels and in photographs, representative of the Nazi imperative, symbolic of all they would destroy. Yet few remember what they were burning—or why.

Magnus Hirschfeld had built his Institute on powerful ideas, yet in their infancy: that sex and gender characteristics existed upon a vast spectrum, that people could be born this way, and that, as with any other diversity of nature, these identities should be accepted. He would call them Intermediaries.

Intermediaries carried no stigma and no shame; these sexual and Gender nonconformists had a right to live, a right to thrive. They also had a right to joy. Science would lead the way, but this history unfolds as an interwar thriller—patients and physicians risking their lives to be seen and heard even as Hitler began his rise to power. Many weren’t famous; their lives haven’t been celebrated in fiction or film. Born into a late-nineteenth-century world steeped in the “deep anxieties of men about the shifting work, social roles, and power of men over women,” they came into her own just as sexual science entered the crosshairs of prejudice and hate. The Institute’s own community faced abuse, blackmail, and political machinations; they responded with secret publishing campaigns, leaflet drops, pro-homosexual propaganda, and alignments with rebel factions of Berlin’s literati. They also developed groundbreaking gender affirmation surgeries and the first hormone cocktail for supportive gender therapy.

Nothing like the Institute for Sexual Sciences had ever existed before it opened its doors—and despite a hundred years of progress, there has been nothing like it since. Retrieving this tale has been an exercise in pursuing history at its edges and fringes, in ephemera and letters, in medal texts, in translations. Understanding why it became such a target for hatred tells us everything about our present moment, about a world that has not made peace with difference, that still refuses the light of scientific evidence most especially as it concerns sexual and reproductive rights.

[end sample]

I wanted to add a note here: so many people have come together to make this possible. Like Ralf Dose of the Magnus-Hirschfeld-Gesellschaft (Magnus Hirschfeld Archive), Berlin, and Erin Reed, American journalist and transgender rights activist—Katie Sutton, Heike Bauer. I am also deeply indebted to historian, filmmaker and formative theorist Susan Stryker for her feedback, scholarship, and encouragement all along the way. And Laura Helmuth, editor of Scientific American, whose enthusiasm for a short article helped bring the book into being. So many LGBTQ+ historians, archivists, librarians, and activists made the work possible, that its publication testifies to the power of the queer community and its dedication to preserving and celebrating history. But I ALSO want to mention you, folks here on tumblr who have watched and encouraged and supported over the 18 months it took to write it (among other books and projects). @neil-gaiman has been especially wonderful, and @always-coffee too: thank you.

The support of this community has been important as I’ve faced backlash in other quarters. Thank you, all.

NOTE: they are attempting to rebuild the lost library, and you can help: https://magnus-hirschfeld.de/archivzentrum/archive-center/

[jasminerva]

“does Nagumo have kinks and if so what are your favs for him 🎤”

So I was asked the above by Lao (@herringstrait)... And I thought I'd just list off a few off the top of my head, but in the end I had enough for a full post lmaooo (and then some - I added more and it just got away from me orz)

Welp... here ya go!

Nagumo x gn!Reader (w/ a few femme-gendered parts as indicated by ♀) Want more? Check out my SakaDays Masterlist! 🍑 Comments, reblogs, tags appeachiated~! 🍑

🎤🧐

mic check one-two (takes in a deep breath)

Nagumo x Reader NSFW headcanons

I feel like Nagumo would prefer to be in control even when he "relinquishes" it lol he wants to show you who's boss (it's you - if you really want you can even make him cry and drool and beg for it) he'll (learn to) crave it 😏 like a special once in a while treat. Honestly, he convinces himself he needs control because that's secure & safe to him. When he gives you control, that's basically saying he feels super safe with you! And if that ain't the sexiest thing ever, I don't know what is.

I personally don't feel like he's got any extravagant kinks like rope play or whips or wax / pain play (he'll try everything once, and he'll do stuff that you like for you)

Now, that doesn't mean he won't go crazy if you wrap yourself up like a present with your/his favourite-coloured ribbon! Or - better yet - let him wrap you up!

Food play for sure tho. One of the smut fics I have drafted up for Valentine's Day involves chocolate in lieu of clothing lmao

Nagumo likes little challenges cuz he's childish like that - throw him a bone every once in a while. Dare him to keep the cuffs on no matter what (god knows he can break outta anything). Let him get creative in stripping you and he'll surprise you (hint: it involves teeth).

I do think he'd like it a lot if you call him "good boy" - he likes praise. Nagumo will for sure reciprocate.

I think he really likes jiggly parts lol so he'd get mesmerized and purposely slam harder and maybe slap it a bit just to see it wiggle lmao (also them slapping sounds mmmph)

Mirror sex

Orgasm control lol but not too crazy he's a soft guy (for the most part). Mostly, he's a sappy romantic and he wants to cum isshoni together with you, so he'll do his darndest to get you off at the same time. In reality, you could probably control him better than he thinks he can control you.

He can be a little possessive but it's not to possess rather than the feelings behind it. If you time it well and tell him you're "his" he could very much cum prematurely 🤣 (he just wants you to know you're his and he's yours okay???)

I also have a smut that I don't know when it'll be released but… it involves an annual hunting excursion in the wilderness lmao (where YOU are the prey - so yeah) [Lao mentioned the face he made while threatening Yotsumura so I HAD TO INCLUDE IT]

(hack-coughs)

(takes in another breath)

Nagumo would be amazing at role play (dude is a master of disguise) but at the end of the day all he wants is to be himself / vulnerable and with you 🥹

I shared this before where Nagumo keeps his eyes open for everything lmaooo his FOMO is bad. You have to get used to when you accidentally peek while he's kissing or you're trying to cover your O face - nope, he will pry those hands off your face or lean very forward - he wants to see it ALL with them big boba eyes.

Just like his eyes are made for eyeing, his fingers are made for fingering. You can act all cocky and crack a joke about how his knuckle tattoos will wear out so much faster at the rate he's going, but he'll just tell you, "worth getting them retouched if I get to touch you like this" as he nearly sends you to heaven (showing off the real reason he has his gold assassin license).

On that note, he's not afraid to probe (literally and figuratively) you, even while you're already stuffed. "Y-Yoichi, t-too much... I don't think that'll fff—" "Shh... don't worry, baby, you can take it all."

[♀] For my womb-sisters, I can see him pressing down on your lower abdomen while he's thrusting into you, feeling you from the outside-in (inside-out?), driving you crazy. Hit that g(uaranteed good time)-spot-on accuracy.

He knows how to use his tongue too. You might even prefer it because it means he'll shut up for once, but ultimately you love his silver tongue-in-cheek as much as you love his other appendages. I think he still prefers leaving his mouth free for kisses and cracking wise.

[♀] Bonus food play, he will kill two birds with one stone by taking in some sugar-free candy or mint beforehand to eat you out. We know how much he loves his sweets after all~ ;) plus the minty tingle would keep things quite literally fresh. (warning: don't mix actual sugar with the vajayjay — not worth it)

Look up BJ blast pop rocks and tell me that won't be the best way to get back at him.

He loves it when you tangle your fingers in his hair, hold him close while he ravishes you. He keeps his hair messy for a reason (wants you stuck for as long as possible).

[♀] Just like he has the bobas, if you have the boobas, he loves to motorboat tease them and rest his face between them (even outside of R18 times). There's something about how nipples perk up that he feels real satisfied about.

[♀] Holding onto them while he's hitting that spot? The peaks between his tattooed fingers and feeling the jiggly movement under his palms? That's one of the rare times he has difficulty concentrating on your face.

Aftercare

This can be pre-/post-/in between, but he likes to trace your hip or stomach or other part with his fingers. Maybe solve some math puzzles like a nerd (scenario included below).

He'll clean you up really well. Maybe too well. Don't take up his offer to clean you up in the shower or bath if you're short on time.

I can see him as the big spoon, or even little spoon. Best would be the pillow-talk position, where he just holds you right against him, face-to-face, eye-to-boobage.

Whatever position, just picture him holding you with his fingers interlocked.

He'll tangle his legs with yours and lock you tf in. Need to go to the bathroom? Best of luck. Dude is a clingy Cancer.

He might wax poetic, saying something cheesy like "we fit together like puzzle pieces" or "you're a problem I'm still trying to solve" - feel free to bonk him. Then you'll have some mandarin oranges to share!

Nuzzles & cuddles & kisses, oh my!

He'll fall asleep with his chin resting on your head, or nuzzled against your chest. (omg Memi @toyboxterror shared this art by ivy_rt_ w/ me which is perfect)

Extra for those familiar with cloud8.

re: hunter-prey play - you don’t particularly like nature, but you’ll do it just to outlast him as long as possible (you can be stupid competitive and it reminds you of JCC times) - plus maybe you like the adrenaline spike haha. He makes a convincing predator.

re: orgasm control / rare dom time - you will get some use out of your kill heels after all (psst don’t tell Tenju).

If you’re into consensual somno - the perk is that you don’t have to do anything PLUS it makes Nagumo feel trusted and desired and that gets him off. WIN-WIN & WINK-WONK.

Nagumo may hate his stuffy work wear, but you've convinced him the necktie is a must. To tug on, motioning him to come hither, pulling him into a kiss, he'll pin you down between his arms and deepen it. It becomes ceremony after a long day's work. (thank you Memi for reminding me!!!)

Extra (forgot I had this drafted in Oct - figured I'd include it here)

SakaDays headcanon: Nagumo “I solve Sudoku puzzles in my downtime” Yoichi does rapid mental math in his head and most likely even uses his fingers (wink-wonk).

shared in the ch1 end notes of c o n t r a i l s (Nagumo x F!Reader ***nsfw smut*** fic). [tumblr post link if you wanted to like + reblog]

Probably traces Sudoku on your bare skin, too. The nerd. Here's a smol scenario of a time when you first noticed:

(You and Nagumo are snuggled up) Nagumo: (hand lingering on your hip, he starts tracing patterns on your skin) You: Are you playing tic-tac-toe or something? Nagumo: Hm? Nope. You: (after a few more movements, realizing) Seriously? Sudoku? Nagumo: Yeah, well, I left the book in my other coat, but may as well continue where I left off~ You: Wow. Is that where your mind immediately goes? Lucky me. Nagumo: (slowly moves mathematical ministrations towards your core, purring) Feeling lucky now~?

[nosyrobin]

Damian and the female reader twins, what happens when there is a glitch in the dimensions, causing his twins to be replaced by a male version of himself, will they become even more chaotic? Or will Damian not accept him in the first place… Either way when he ventures between dimensions and finds his twin sister with his female version with long hair combing her hair for her, girls times.

NOT MY SIBLING….

DAMIAN AL GHUL-WAYNE X TWIN!FEM!READER

A/N: Damian wouldn’t accept him at first until a bonding moment happens. I feel like it would be the same chaotic twins doing crazy shit but still be like “I don’t want you. I want my sibling back.” From Damian.

Key: pink= fem!damian and fem!reader and blue=m!reader and Damian.

Summary: a glitch in universes and dimensions, rip you out of Damian’s hands. Only for him to get in return a different “you”. Working together, they find their own version of their siblings doing their own thing.

It happened right in front of his face, you two were on night patrol when a glitchy looking portal. Damian immediately pushed you behind him as the portal started getting bigger, and bigger when seconds went by. The twins eyes widened as the girl’s hair float by the air being sucked in the weird portal.

“Damian…” you whispered softly, scared as Damian started to move back with you closely behind him. “Go. Go, go, go!” He yelled as you two sprinted off of the rooftop you both were certainly on. As Damian grapple hook to another rooftop, you tried to pull yours out as well. Sadly, you weren’t quick enough as Damian turned around quick to hear and see you scream. You screamed loudly as you get lifted up in the air.

“DAMIAN!!!” You yelled with tears in your eyes, Damian felt his heart clench seeing the situation.

“NOOOO!” He yelled with widen eyes, readying his grappling hook to shoot its line for your waist so he can pull you. Only for you to get immediately pulled in. Damian felt his heart drop. He felt his heart pounding loudly in his ears as he dropped to his knees. “No…no…NO!” He punched the ground, clenching his eyes tight. He laid on the ground, his mind spiraling at the loss of his other half. He didn’t know what he could or should tell his father at how he lost his sibling…and his daughter.

Time passed as Damian sat up grieving, that was before the same glitchy portal opened up. Damian stood up quickly, his heart racing as hope comes over him for his sister to come back in his arms. As Damian looked and waiting patiently. There “you” were, spitted out with a deep voice and…shorter hair? Damian narrowed his eyes as he goes to his so called twin that got spitted out the portal. As Damian walks up to the twin of his..he noticed how the uniform you wore was the same, except it was more masculine.

“Damn…..” the voice says, the voice that was certainly not Damian’s twin as Damian pulls out his katana. “Who are you.” He demanded, not even a question but demanded. “You” looked up confused as HE looked confused seeing a male version of his twin sister??

Now what is going on…..

Currently at this moment, you were dressed in one of Damian’s clothes. It felt weird being interrogated by the male counterparts of your family. You sat there as Damian glared at you as if you were the reason your female counterpart had been abducted by the strange portal. After the truth is revealed that you are from a different dimension where the gender roles are switched. Dick is the first one to welcome you with open arms, Tim questions you if he is still the same as a girl, Bruce doesn’t care much other wise finding his lost daughter, Jason..was about to shoot you but left. And Damian…he scoffed and walked away.

Leaving you down there as you wonder what your twin sister is doing…

It took the male counter of yourself to get use to Damian being an asshole to you. Damian would literally glare at you, not even calling you your name or his “sibling.” He would only say “I want my sibling back.” “You’re not my sibling.” But it was one night in the shared twins room when Damian was having a nightmare. Twisting and turning while the male counterpart of yourself awoke him. Checking up on him as he woke up startled. He clings to you, sobbing about how he’s “sorry for failing you.” “I’m sorry, please forgive me…” come back to me please…” It broke your heart as he you patted his back.

You knew he was just trying to get over the fact his own twin was lost somewhere in dimensions and universes. You knew he was pretending you were her as he clenches on your back.

After that, Damian was just a little bit better to you. Like for example,

He stopped and called you his “half-brother” since you are his original twin, just a male from another dimension

He stopped glaring and mostly just stared at you

….he just started to give you clothes he didn’t like.

Other than that, you two still did twin shenanigans just like you did with his female counterpart. You two were in the backyard sparring hand to hand combat. As you rushed at him, he swiftly moved and grabbed you by the back of your shirt. Slamming you down, breath taken from you. You grunted in defeat as Damian smiled.

“Even if you’re a male version of my sister. You fight and fall just like her.” He said, putting his hand out and helping you up. “Yeah..you fight just like my sister dude.”

And that’s when the glitchy portal that started this all appeared behind you, sucking you in quickly. Damian’s eyes widen, going after the male counterpart that screamed for help. The two male twins fall through colorful lights flashing by them. Damian grabbed you, pulling you to his chest to protect you. As the two males fall faster, they popped out of the portal into a pinkish room.

They groaned, getting off each other. Giggles were heard with a smell of blossoms and vanilla. Looking up, they found their versions of their sister. There you were, sitting in between damian’s female counterpart thighs. Brushing your hair as you turned around to see your beloved brother. His female version looked exactly like him, just more feminine and long black hair.

“DAMIAN!” You yelled with excitement as you were getting your hair brushed by his female counterpart. Damia (da-Mia)narrowed her eyes at Damian who did the same back. With a quick motion, Damian pulled you to his chest and damia did the same to your male counterpart.

“I see we have our OWN sibling back?”

“I agree, I don’t want any problems other than the fact that you should leave my dimension along with your beautiful sister.” Damia said with a smirk.

“Of course she’s beautiful, unlike your brother who needs a trimming on his unkept hair.”

“I can say the same for yours.”

“HEY!” The two Y/N’s say.

“Well, too bad your idiotic brother isn’t as smart as you think he is. Kinda pathetic for him to fall in a portal.”

Damia’s eyes widened, pushing your male counterpart part as she pulled a pink katana from her collection. With a warrior roar she goes to attack Damian. Damian pushed you behind him, ready to fight his female counterpart before the glitchy portal then sucks the two original twins. Setting them back to their own dimension.

You fell on Damian horizontally as damain landed vertically. Groaning, you soon smiled at Damian who immediately hugged you close to his chest. “I missed you my sister…. Welcome home.”

“Missed you too Dami!” You said hugging him back as Titus barked at the familiar scent of you. Barking with a smile as he leaped around the two twins.

[unboundprompts]

How to write about someone’s appearance? Their physique, styles, face , clothes,?

How to Describe a Character's Appearance

-> dabblewriter.com

-> link to Character Description Prompts

Avoid Over-Describing

Overloading readers with too much information can be overwhelming and make your characters feel flat and one-dimensional. Focus on the details that are the most important to the story and the characters themselves.

If the character's appearance is not central to the story, then you may only need to give a basic description. If it plays a significant role, you may want to go into more detail. Always keep the purpose of your physical descriptions in mind.

Show Don't Tell

Don't blatantly state every little thing about your character's appearance, but rather show it through their actions and behaviors.

example: If they are tall, show that through their actions. They have to duck to get under a doorway, they help someone reach the top shelf, etc.

Include Personality Traits

A character's personality is what makes them memorable. Consider their motivations, values, beliefs, and quirks and give them a well-defined personality.

Avoid Stereotypes

Create characters that are more than just their cultural, racial, ethnic, or gender identity. Give them unique interests, hobbies, and personalities. Allow them to have flaws, contradictions, and diverse perspectives.

External Features

External features include a character's height, weight, body type, and general appearance. You can describe their skin color, hair color, eye color, and any distinctive features like freckles or scars. This type of description gives the reader a basic understanding of what the character looks like, which is helpful in creating a mental image.

Clothing

Describing the type of clothing they wear, including the colors, patterns, and how they fit, can reveal a lot about a character’s personality and social status.

For example, a character who wears tailored suits and expensive shoes might be a little snobby and concerned with their image, while a character who wears ripped jeans and t-shirts might be casual and relaxed.

Facial Features

Facial features can be used to give the reader a more in-depth understanding of a character's personality and emotions. You can describe their smile, the way they frown, their cheekbones, and their jawline. You can also describe their eyebrows, the shape of their nose, and the size and shape of their eyes, which can give the reader insight into their emotions.

Body Language

Body language can be used to give the reader an understanding of a character's emotions and personality without the need for dialogue. Describing the way a character stands, walks, or gestures can reveal a lot about their confidence level, mood, and attitude.

For example, a character who slouches and avoids eye contact is likely to be shy, while a character who stands up straight and makes direct eye contact is likely to be confident.

Words to Describe Various Features

Head and face

Oval: rounded, elongated, balanced, symmetrical

Round: full, plump, chubby, cherubic

Square: angular, defined, strong, masculine

Heart: pointy, triangular, wider at the temples, narrow at the chin

Diamond: angular, pointed, narrow at the forehead and jaw, wide at the cheekbones

Long: elongated, narrow, oval, rectangular

Triangular: angular, wide at the jaw, narrow at the forehead, inverted heart-shape

Oblong: elongated, rectangular, similar to oval but longer

Pear-shaped: narrow at the forehead, wide at the jaw and cheekbones, downward-pointing triangle

Rectangular: angular, defined, similar to oblong but more squared

Facial features

Cheeks: rosy, plump, gaunt, sunken, dimpled, flushed, pale, chubby, hollow

Chin: pointed, cleft, rounded, prominent, dimpled, double, weak, strong, square

Ear: large, small, delicate, flapped, pointed, rounded, lobeless, pierced

Eyes: deep-set, angled, bright, piercing, hooded, wide-set, close-set, beady, slanted, round, droopy, sleepy, sparkling

Forehead: high, broad, wrinkled, smooth, furrowed, low, narrow, receding

Jaw: strong, square, defined, angular, jutting, soft, weak, chiseled

Lips: full, thin, chapped, cracked, puckered, pursed, smiling, quivering, pouty

Mouth: wide, small, downturned, upturned, smiling, frowning, pouting, grimacing

Nose: hooked, straight, aquiline, button, long, short, broad, narrow, upturned, downturned, hooked, snub

Eyebrows: arched, bushy, thin, unkempt, groomed, straight, curved, knitted, furrowed, raised

Hair

Texture: curly, straight, wavy, frizzy, lank, greasy, voluminous, luxurious, tangled, silky, coarse, kinky

Length: long, short, shoulder-length, waist-length, neck-length, chin-length, buzzed, shaven

Style: styled, unkempt, messy, wild, sleek, smoothed, braided, ponytail, bun, dreadlocks

Color: blonde, brunette, red, black, gray, silver, salt-and-pepper, auburn, chestnut, golden, caramel

Volume: thick, thin, fine, full, limp, voluminous, sparse

Parting: center-parted, side-parted, combed, brushed, gelled, slicked back

Bangs: fringed, side-swept, blunt, wispy, thick, thin

Accessories: headband, scarf, barrettes, clips, pins, extensions, braids, ribbons, beads, feathers

Body

Build: slender, skinny, lean, athletic, toned, muscular, burly, stocky, rotund, plump, hefty, portly

Height: tall, short, petite, lanky, willowy, stocky, rotund

Posture: slouching, upright, hunched, stiff, relaxed, confident, nervous, slumped

Shape: hourglass, pear-shaped, apple-shaped, athletic, bulky, willowy, curvy

Muscles: defined, toned, prominent, ripped, flabby, soft

Fat distribution: chubby, plump, rounded, jiggly, wobbly, flabby, bloated, bloated

Body hair: hairy, smooth, shaven, beard, goatee, mustache, stubble

Weight: light, heavy, average, underweight, overweight, obese, lean, skinny

Body language: confident, nervous, aggressive, submissive, arrogant, timid, confident, relaxed

Body movements: graceful, clunky, fluid, awkward, jerky, smooth, agile, rigid

Build

Muscular: ripped, toned, defined, well-built, buff, brawny, burly, strapping

Athletic: fit, toned, agile, flexible, energetic, muscular, athletic, sporty

Thin: skinny, slender, slim, lanky, bony, gaunt, angular, wiry

Stocky: sturdy, broad-shouldered, compact, muscular, solid, robust, heavy-set

Overweight: plump, chubby, rotund, heavy, portly, corpulent, stout, fleshy

Fat: overweight, overweight, rotund, heavy, bloated, tubby, round, fat

Lean: lanky, slender, skinny, thin, wiry, willowy, spare, underweight

Larger: large, heavy, hefty, substantial, solid, overweight, portly, rotund

Skin

Texture: smooth, soft, silky, rough, bumpy, flaky, scaly, rough

Tone: fair, light, pale, dark, tan, olive, bronze, ruddy, rosy

Complexion: clear, radiant, glowing, dull, blotchy, sallow, ruddy, weathered

Wrinkles: deep, fine, lines, crow's feet, wrinkles, age spots

Marks: freckles, age spots, birthmarks, moles, scars, blemishes, discoloration

Tone: even, uneven, patchy, discolored, mottled, sunburned, windburned

Glow: luminous, radiant, healthy, dull, tired, lifeless

Tautness: taut, firm, loose, saggy, wrinkles, age spots, slack

Condition: healthy, glowing, radiant, dry, oily, acne-prone, sunburned, windburned

Style

Clothing: trendy, stylish, fashionable, outdated, classic, eclectic, casual, formal, conservative, bold, vibrant, plain, ornate

Fabric: silk, cotton, wool, leather, denim, lace, satin, velvet, suede, corduroy

Colors: bright, bold, pastel, neutral, vibrant, muted, monochrome

Accessories: jewelry, hats, glasses, belts, scarves, gloves, watches, necklaces, earrings, bracelets, rings

Shoes: sneakers, boots, sandals, heels, loafers, flats, pumps, oxfords, slippers

Grooming: well-groomed, unkempt, messy, clean-cut, scruffy, neat

Hair: styled, messy, curly, straight, braided, dreadlocks, afro, updo, ponytail

Makeup: natural, bold, minimal, heavy, smokey, colorful, neutral

Personal grooming: clean, fragrant, unkempt, well-groomed, grooming habits

Overall appearance: put-together, disheveled, polished, rough, messy, tidy

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