#he’s masc leaning but pretty he/they’s should get to wear pretty clothes

[bambies-art]

Day 21: clothes swap

I love when Idia lets me wear his hoodie. It’s already big on him which means its still loose on me and its so warm and cozy and smells like him. I shake the sleeves over my hands and bring them up to my face to inhale the scent, smiling into the fabric as I sit on his chair. It was a silly, spur of the moment thing to change clothes with each other. We had been talking about clothes and Idia mentioned that he didn’t really mind dressing feminine or masculine but it was just easier to dress how he always has. I had casually suggested he could put my dress on but I hadn’t actually expected him to agree. It’s been quiet for a while, the sounds of Idia moving around in the bathroom having stopped.

“Idia are you ok?”

.

.

.

.

“I don’t think I can come out.”

“What? Idia just come out and show me, I’m sure you look fine.” The door slowly creeks open after my words and he steps out. My dress is too big on him but its kind of cute how loose it is on his thin frame despite having been tied as tight as it can be; it really shows off his figure. Not to mention he’s taller than me so it ends a little higher making his legs look even longer. I don’t realize I’m staring until he starts to fidget.

“I knew it. I look like some weirdo I could never pull this off everyone is gonna laugh at me and poke me with a stick and say look at that weirdo with the blue hair thinking he can dress up all cute and—”

“You’re so pretty Idia. You should wear skirts and dresses more often.”

“EEEH no…..well—maybe for you.”

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

how do you feel about march eridan?

Ok disclaimer before I get into it, trolls wearing dresses = great and fantastic; in fact, given that the gender differences in troll culture are so much less significant, ALL the male trolls should own some femme-ass clothes, even if it's as simple as just having a skirt version of their pants, and it's a little lame that we didn't get that.

That said, March Eridan specifically kind of annoys me because it has 0 basis in canon (aside from some shoutouts in things like ministrife sprites) but has taken over Eridan discussions so wholly that it's become widely accepted as part of his character that he's really into femme stuff when the opposite is true, and he's got some pretty major characterization tied up in the fact that he does lean so masc, and what specific type of masc he tends to present as.

So first of all, Eridan dresses up to emulate Dualscar, and this is very obvious and straightforward; if you've read the big essay I have pinned to my blog, you know that this is all a part of his basic "I have to be a big bad sea dweller or Something Bad Will Happen" suite of issues.

Thus, we can ALSO assume that the choices he made that aren't made to emulate Dualscar are reflective of his ACTUAL taste in clothing. For example, blue pants instead of purple and black - I believe that this is because Eridan likes to dress up in the blood colors of his dates; he wears a lot of blue because he's hatedating Vriska (and never quite seems to get 100% over her), and we also see this in the rings on his fingers - half of which are fuchsia, for Feferi.

So that leaves us with the glasses, shoes, and scarf. And we know why he dresses like that! It's because he's a hipster. (The scarf has an added benefit of being associated with harry potter-style wizards).

CCG: PAST YOU, PRESENT YOU, FUTURE YOU CCG: AND ABOVE ALL, UGLY SCARFNECKED DOUCHEBAG HIPSTER YOU CCG: WAIT I FORGOT, ALL OF THE YOUS ARE THAT YOU

And very specifically, a masc hipster from the era - the glasses and the ugly-ass shoes are dead giveaways. The slicked-back hair is reminiscent of that fashion style, too. He is also a douchebag. This too is important. He draws from character archetypes of the time that were generally agreed upon to be the most punchable people in existence; his introduction calls him "KIND OF A TOOL" and he consistently acts according to that. Like, I mean, just LOOK at those shades. Those are not the shades of somebody you want to be trapped in a conversation with.

A fairly accurate Eridan fashion board would look something like this:

And, like, it kind of matters that he dresses like this specific breed of pretentious male douchebag; on a meta level, that's the impression he's supposed to give the audience, and on a diegetic level, he CHOOSES to look like this because he has these kinds of interests, but is relegating them to secondary accessories.

We never hear him talk about liking hipster shit; we have to hear it from Karkat and glean it from his design. This is because, as I've talked about before, he actively distances himself from things that make him happy, things that he'd enjoy. The constant push-pull between his ACTUAL interests, and the ones he thinks he has to have because he's supposed to be a big nasty sea dweller, is a huge part of his characterization - for example, the way he keeps claiming that magic and wizards are fake and shitty, but has no less than 6 wizard statues in his respiteblock alone, and cared about his crappy wands enough to bring them onto the meteor.

So that's one of my other issues with March Eridan and the general fanon that he'd be really into femme clothes (and, by extension, fashion) - he wouldn't be forthcoming about it, even if it was true. He has a deep sense of shame and insecurity surrounding what few interests he actually has, because they feel stupid, ridiculous, and frivolous, next to the intense anxiety he has about playing the role society gave him. He's got a very strong sense of duty that makes it very difficult for him to relax and actually enjoy something. Which, you know, probably feeds into his hipster-ness - a movement often defined more by what it doesn't approve of than what it does.

Canon Eridan, when he has a choice of what to wear, overwhelmingly chooses masculine clothing with hipster connotations. And this matters, it's part of his characterization, it says something about him, the same way that it's important that Karkat dresses very simply and baggily (we all know how many insecurities Karkat has about his body) or that Sollux's bifurcation is shown in his clothes. So please please please don't misunderstand my dislike of March Eridan as me saying I don't want him in dresses; I purely dislike it because it's usually SUCH a misread of his character.

And to prove it, here's my other gripe with March Eridan stuff: all the dresses shown in the not-canon "official" artworks don't even flatter his bodytype. Why do his custom mannequins in Pesterquest have CURVES when his Pesterquest sprite doesn't?????

Please, I'm begging you, there are guides for dressing this body type, and even historical fashions that deliberately try to emulate this body type, please if you're going to dress him femme and HC that he enjoys fashion, please put him in clothes that flatter him please

I think Eridan should own some femme clothes, because on Alternia, there are very few differences between the genders, he's rich enough to afford it, and he clearly has more of an interest in fashion in general - but I think the fact that he has a clear canon preference for masculine styles is significant, and I'm really annoying, so it kind of does bothers me that this is a controversial opinion. That being said, I don't want to tell people what they Should and Should Not do, because that's lame. Who cares. He's a fictional character, let people draw him in dresses. Would be very happy if this post causes people to draw him in different styles of dresses though :pray:

[anameistoohard]

Reminding myself I know who I am is what's called a grounding technique (I didn't know that when I started doing it, I just knew it helped lol). IMO grounding techniques are one of the most important things any system should know. They're ways to help you feel more connected to your body, reduce anxiety, and just, like, overall stop your head from spinning. They can be used to reduce or even stop yourself from dissociating, stave off a switch (at least until you can get to a safe place to let it happen. I wouldn't recommend trying to stop it outright, good way to get a headache), and help switches happen smoother and faster (which also reduces headaches... headaches are really common for systems lol).

Grounding techniques mostly involve things that engage your senses, giving you something to focus on. Some that have helped us include:

Running my finger tips over the back of my hands and up my arms

Rubbing my hands over the fabric of my pant legs

Controlling my breathing/ breathing deeply

Focusing on interesting smells like a scented candle (doesn't need to be lit, just hold it up to your nose)

We have a necklace we can put essential oils into, does the same thing as the last one and is really good for grounding in public cause it's so subtle

Eating strong mints like altoids and breathing through our mouth has been the most impactful to us

There are some that more engage your brain like trying to rehearse song lyrics in your head or counting but skipping every third number or something like that.

This is just to name a few. Every one is different. Even within your system different things can work for different alters. Experiment and find out what best works for all of y'all.

Switching gears to being trans and a mixed gender system.

Pretty much everything we do operates on a "rule" of: If we can compromise, compromise. If we can't compromise, do the thing that causes the least amount of harm.

One of the biggest examples of that is hrt. We've been depressed literally our entire life, and suicidal for about a third of it (not so much anymore thankfully). On top of that I/we have had really bad chest dysphoria. Like, bad enough to cause actual physical pain and something roughly equivalent to phantom limb. Two years on hrt has reduced my chest dysphoria to the point that it is almost nonexistent. It's a life saving treatment. The problem? We have some guys in our system who aren't to keen on having boobs. One in particular, Konnor (Hi! I'm co-con), hrt has caused him to have dysphoria. It's as bad for him now as it was for me before starting. So what do we do about that? Either you're on hrt or you're not, even a low dose would still cause changes over time. This isn't something we can compromise on. He recognizes how important hrt is to me and the other girls/ fem leaning alters and how much it would hurt us if we weren't on it. So what he agreed to is to continue with our current dose but do things to help him feel more comfortable when he's out like buying masculine clothes, hair gel to style his (long af -K) hair in a more men's style, and we've even talked about getting him and the other guys a binder for when they're out (obviously not as good as just not having boobs but I'm willing to deal -K).

On the flip side, I've needed to resign myself to the fact that I'm probably never getting bottom surgery (or at most an orchi). Hrt has helped alleviate a lot of my bottom dysphoria but it's far from all gone. I was a bit on the fence about getting such a major (and expensive) surgery to begin with but knowing how devastating it would be to our guys/ masc leaning alters, I could never do that to them. That's something I need to deal with same as them with the hrt.

On a lighter note, something we CAN compromise on is getting our ears pierced. I've been wanting to get them pierced for a long time. Konnor doesn't care for "any of that sparkly girly shit /lh". Because we need to wear the same earrings 24/7 for months until they heal, we agreed to get something simple like a plain metal ball until we can swap them out freely based on whoever's fronting's preferences (or not wear anything if they prefer).

All in all, it's just about being empathetic and recognizing other alters' feeling are just as real and important as yours. Even (and especially) when they conflict with your own.

It can be hard. At first I felt like I was loosing my autonomy. Having to share a life with other people, my life felt like it was no longer my own. But some of them have NEVER gotten to feel like their life is their own. How could I ever resent them for just wanting to live? I love them and just want what's best for all of us, even the ones who drive me crazy, even the ones I butt heads with, and even the ones who have hurt me (I've found they're the ones who've needed the most help).

I hope at least something in this wall of text was useful to you lol. You're not alone (in more ways than one, har har), you're strong, you're brave, and you're going to be okay. We believe in you. 💜

So these last few days has been.. Turbulent. DIFFERENT

I think I may be a System? Infact I KNOW I am a system at this point, but Im also not ready to accept that. Well a part of me isnt, and the other parts of me are like… uh duh of course you are. 

*A system in this context refers to the collective consciousness under the DID / OSDD Umbrella, I dont know the correct terminology in all of this, so im so sorry If i I mess up. I don’t necessarily want to give myself a label, there's .. brain scans and stuff I can get to prove it. And I need those, thats the only way I know this is real. But for now, for my own mental health I am treating it as if it were.. “real “ And I dont really know… what to expect…? I want to find something, ANYTHING, on I guess.. Systems waking up? But I cant find it. So I’ll just do this here Im gonna dump out all our thoughts onto some comic pages and we will figure it out.  I had a bit of an awakening roughly.. 5 days ago, and for the sake of convenience gonna use Plural/System terminology - There are alters, I have met them, the have names and personalities and some of them are really fuckin annoying i just want to punch him in his TEETH

Anyways, since the alter awakening moment, my brain has been in TURMOIL parts of me accept this, parts of me dont, i keep feeling like my face is like shifted 2 inches to the right and everything gets fuzzy in the real world. Not that these alters have names like.. Files are getting sorted  into these proper figures and everything is getting explained and figured out. And its making me feel like I'm not me anymore?

Like I always would argue and barter and fight with my own thoughts, but that's the thing, they wer thoughts, voices in my head with just like, distinct personalities. I just saw it as a different part of me?? Figured that was normal.

But now they are.. stronger ? OR maybe because i'm more aware of them and the personalities I can tell whos out now and like.. Obviously they are happy to get some facetime with the world properly?? But like.. Am *I* just aware of it, aware of them now, aware that it is not just *I* but *We* and so noticing it more, I'm resisting even harder? We feel more fractured than ever.

I have a good friend helping me out, another system, I owe them everything, maybe my life. (PLEASE FOLLOW @transpanda-1 BTW THEY DESERVE IT) They had a few amazing tips, but I cant keep bugging them about every anxiety on my mind thats not fair, so I’ll ask the whole community.

I guess what I want to know is.. Like is this normal? Do all systems go through this? What should I expect in the future and how do I make this more streamlined and stop.. Fighting it? I guess?

I thought I finally had myself figured out, just be the girl who makes the funny relatable trans comics… it was simple.

[bunni-teeth81]

Slender bros rewritten by me

Cause I want character development

(This is mostly Offender, trender, and Splendor. Also if you like Slendey/slender dad you might not wanna read this cause I do not make him a good guy in the slightest)

Possible tw for mention sexual assault, pedolophilia, necrophilia, and zoophilia!

To start off, Offender is not a rapist, he isn’t a pedo, and he doesn’t fuck animals

He doesn’t do anything without consent, plain and simple. Him being all those things was a rumor started by someone he fucked in the past who got caught cheating. They said Offender forced them and the rumors have escalated since with his legend.

He actively avoids children cause he doesn’t like them. So he literally couldn’t be a pedo.

He doesn’t hate kids, he just prefers to not be around them.

He won’t fuck someone with kids unless the kids are out of the house and somewhere safe.

He’s wary about fucking 18 and 19 year olds and usually doesn’t

Occasionally if he sees a kid sad while he’s on a walk or whatever he’ll give them some daisies or something. Though they kinda just appear near the kid. He doesn’t actually go near them.

Though he will fuck old people. He has no problem with that. But he will go gentler cause they’re frail

He likes animals, but not like that. Like.. ew

He has a kind of respect for the dead, even people he’s killed to eat, so he’d never do that. Also it goes back to the consent thing. They can’t consent so he ain’t gonna fuck them.

He’s pansexual.

He’s very kinky, obviously. He’s willing to do pretty much anything in bed

He prefers to top but he has no problem being pegged-

Has tried every drug there is.

Usually just sticks to weed, alcohol, crack, shrooms, and the occasional LSD

Bath salts fucked him up majorly and he will never do them again.

He works for trender, who has a whole ass company (will be touched on later)

He helps trender make clothes for more alt styles (punk, grunge, goth, emo, all that good stuff) and he helps with lingerie (masc and fem. trender makes both. Offender tests it out and gives feedback on what could be added or changed)

He also finds models for Trender (there’s really no qualifications to be a model, you kinda just have to want to be one. Trender, his assistants, and other models will help fill new models in. And they never have to wear something they don’t want or pose a way that makes them uncomfortable. also theres do discrimination when it comes to models, any one of any race, body type, gender (or lack there of), sexuality, and age to an extent (depending on the clothes being modeled and (if parent permission is needed if they get it)) are welcome)

He also does side jobs like art (he does realistic art) plays piano or violin for songs, every so often he’ll join a strip club. Definitely has an OF.

He learned piano from his dad. Their dad made them all learn piano. His dad was very against him learning violin but his mother let him learn it (she knew how to play)

Their parents kept them pretty reserved from the rest of the world (particularly humans) for safety reasons. The brothers didn’t find out they were the only ones of their kind till they were like teens and went hunting for the first time.

Their parents suddenly disappeared when they were teens. They still haven’t found them and have no idea what happened to them.

Zalgo killed them cause the dad was constantly fighting him, so was the mom but less so.

There were originally 5 brothers, but one got murdered (It was Tenderman. Who wouldve been the oldest, then slender, offender and trender are twins, then splendor)

They don’t know how tender was murdered. All they know is they can be murdered. They still haven’t figured out how tho.

They do know that they can regenerate any part of their body (teeth and nails grow back almost instantly, limbs take longer, they can just put their head where it should be and the bone, muscle, skin, tissue and all that will pull back together, skin can either regenerate in about an hour or two or a couple days depending on the size of the wound. Their organs can regenerate but it takes like a month.)

Drugs don’t effect them the same way they do us. Our massive hangovers that put us out of commission is what happens after they do LSD. A regular hangover for us is what happens when they do coke or a drink shit ton of alcohol.

Offender has the highest tolerance, then it’s trender, splendor, and Slender has the lowest cause he hasn’t done drugs.

Splendor has tried them but doesn’t like doing them. He doesn’t drink much either.

Trender will do them every so often, usually with Offender. He either drinks or smokes a blunt usually. Shrooms are for special occasions, and LSD gives him major anxiety so he doesn’t do it.

Trender and Offender were the only ones to try bath salts. They don’t know what happened. Splendor says they disappeared for a month and murdered a shit ton of people. They almost got caught. And at some point Offender ate a whole ass headstone and took a chunk out of a mausoleum

Slender hunts whenever the hell he wants, he doesn’t care about being caught

Offender hunts every couple of months or so

Trender hunts about 2 times a year. He spreads out his food pretty evenly

Splendor hates hunting and usually Offender or Trender will do it for them. They’ll maybe hunt once a year.

Human food to them is like sweets to us. They can’t live off it but it’ll keep them from starving. If they don’t eat human for about 3-4 years they’ll start to starve, but the process is slow and would probably take a while to actually kill them

Trender, Splendor, and Offender try not to get caught or make suspicions rise. They just wanna live their lives.

The amount of people they consume and how long they stay in their human form determines their power levels.

Slender is the most powerful, then Splendor, Offender, and Trender is the least powerful (but they’re all still mega powerful)

Slender is never in his human form and consumes humans whenever he wants so he has nothing holding back his power

Splendor may not eat human much but they’re rarely ever in his human form. And if they are it’s not for more than an hour usually

Offender is in his human form about 50% of the time. He’s in his normal form at home or hunting and any other time he’s human so-

Trender is in his human form like 90% of the time since he spends most of his time at work (he’s a workaholic to the highest extent. When it becomes really bad is when Offender will step in and be like “hey let’s grab a drink and chill out”)

Offender and Slender’s relationship is like Raph and Leo’s from tmnt if their relationship was genuine hatred and violent

Splendor tries to med their relationship and makes times where they all hang out and have dinner together but to no avail

This is the only time Slender can be seen in his human form. He doesn’t want to go but for some reason he does

Slender is stuck in his ways

Their dad hated humans with a passion, and Slender looked up to their father and wanted to be exactly like him so the hatred rubbed off

Slender blames humans for his parents disappearing and Tender’s death. Tender was the brother he bonded with the most

Splendor used to be a really emotional kid and their father hated that so now they bottle up everything

Their mother tried to help as best she could

V support

Trender’s company is a fashion company that produces just about everything

And the sizes go up to 4 or 5 x

And the prices are reasonable and don’t go up with the size

Trender really doesn’t give to shits about money. If he could he’d just give everything he makes away but unfortunately he needs some money to produce what he makes.

He makes kids clothing, teens clothing, adults clothing in every aesthetic you can think of. Rarely will you see basic shit from him

He makes jewelry (real and fake (for the kiddies) and specifies very obviously which is which so someone doesn’t accidentally buy the wrong one)

He makes shoes!

His prices are usually around 10-25 dollars for clothing, sometimes 30 if it’s a specific brand (like Gorillaz or something. He doesn’t work with brands like Victoria secret, brands that have sweat shops, things like that. He doesn’t support them whatsoever)

His business is huge but he always listens to the people and tries to improve. And all his products are made ethically. He tries in every way possible to produce good products without polluting the earth more

Splendor usually only hangs around babies-young adults. They help them through rough home lives, trauma, and helps them find joy. They do everything they can to make them feel better

Splendor is the one who takes care of Sally. And they feels incredibly guilty for not being able to stop what happened to her, or punish her uncle himself.

Animals and mystical creatures are drawn to them and their home. They go to it for shelter and safety, as well as some food. But because Splendor isn’t always there they have a nymph friend there to look after everything.

Slenderman is the only one with proxies

Splendor is demisexual and bi, leaning towards men

Trender is queer and demisexual/demiromantic

Slender doesn’t love anything. Ever.

Trender gets annoyed easily but rarely ever gets pissed pissed (like original face altering pissed) if he does it’s either cause someone did something to his brothers or his models. And the unfortunate soul who did such will never be seen again afterwards

Offender doesn’t really get pissed pissed cause he usually either bottles it up or makes a joke out of it. It’s really only if something happens to his brothers that he gets pissed pissed.

Splendor has a list of people they wish they could rip to shreds. All of them parents. But they don’t want to do that to the children. They only intervenes and gets pissed pissed when the abuse gets physical or sexual. When it’s physically they’ll give the parent one change to never do that again. They’ll scare the shit outta them but won’t hurt them. If it’s sexual they kill them. Plain and simple.

Splendor started wearing pokadots to make the kids happy. Trender hates the suit but doesn’t comment usually

Splendor’s black hands are a skin disease their species can have. The skin is black and kinda ridged.

Splendor wears gloves because of their skin disease. the blood stains and they can’t get it out. Also they’re very insecure about their disease

Splendor put the bells on their tendrils so their movements didn’t scare the kids. They would always know when he was moving and where he was moving to so they’d be more comfortable. It was painful but it was worth it

Slender was in the woods when he was younger and almost got attacked by humans, but his mother came and saved him. (Her tendrils could be used as a shield)

Eden is not related to the brothers.

But eden looks a lot like their mother, so much so that Spendor legitimately mistakes her for their mother.

Slender’s human name is John (splendor had to come up with it on the spot leave them be)

Offender’s human name is Dimitri and I’ll die on this hill

Splendor’s human name is Faer

Trender’s human name is Quael

They can change their physical appearance to be fem or masc. like their body can change.

Slender doesn’t give two shits about pronouns

Offender doesn’t care but he/they/xem works

Trender goes by he/him

Splendor goes by they/them

(Im including Slenderwoman now so uh... 🤷)

Her hair is her tendrils.

She’s not part of the Slender bro family nor does she know they exist (though eventually she will. She’s way younger than them so)

✨Lesbian✨

Has met Slenderman tho. She hates him

Like genuinely hates his guts

She hates almost sharing a name with him.

Prefers to go by her human name; Eden

As long as you don’t use the pronouns he/him she doesn’t care.

She just kinda... appeared at the ripe age of 4? (She doesn’t remember anything past 4 so that’s what if feels like to her.)

Splendor is a switch and you can’t change my mind

Trender is also a switch

Slender doesn’t get any cause he’d kill them, purposely or not, being radioactive and all.

Eden is a top but can bottom is convinced

Offender, Splendor, Trender, and Eden can all control their radiation output so they can glitch tech when they chose and won’t hurt anyone

Slender could but doesn’t want to 🤷

They can be killed by their hearts getting impaled. The reason they don’t know that is because the skin will heal, but the heart can’t.

Offenderman’s real name isn’t Offenderman. That name was dubbed to him when people believed the rumors of him. But he kept it. He can’t really explain why but he did. And now he forgets it’s not his real name sometimes. Though he does prefer to go by Offender/Smexy.

Splendor calls him Offendy and he’s the only one allowed to do so

Trended has four arms, plus his tendrils. He can hide his second pair of arms like his tendrils but it takes energy

Getting their limbs/tendrils cut off only stings to them. They’re only in full on pain when their organs are involved

Eden’s blood has healing properties.

Someone can be turned immortal by being injected with one of the brother’s (or Eden’s) blood in large amounts. It’s extremely painful though.

Doing it slowly can ease the pain, so doing it over a week’s time nonstop will get the job done.

The injected person will be very weak after it for a couple days. A week. 2 weeks in worse cases.

The only one who’s done this is Splendor. They were dating a guy for a very long time and they told him about the procedure and he wanted it. After gaining back his strength he left Splendor. They’re not entirely over this even though it happened a long time ago.

They (mainly Offender and Trender) had to track him down and kill him. (Ya know, heart stuff)

That’s when they figured that’s probably how they could get murdered 

[redporkpadthai]

tmi

Question to my trans masc, nb, or other gender questioning moots...

So like I'm generally okay with the labels she/her, I'm neutral at least, and I can't say that I really vibe with he/him (but that may have more to do with like concepts of masculinity and less to do with actually being called masc pronouns bc being referred to has "him" has actually made me happy in the past???)

Anyway, I just really hate having breasts and menstruating but like I don't want facial hair or even necessarily a p*nis(although i do fantasize as having one when i m*sterbate, but I've heard that's not uncommon with cis women bc of like gendered power dynamics being carried over into s*xual fantasy)

When I've thought about transitioning, being wholey perceived as male doesn't sit right either? Like I've worn a binder out once and it didn't necessarily feel right. And I hate the constriction along my chest. Idk, but when I look in the mirror I think I'd be a lot more handsome as a man, like a pretty boy. Like I think I'd still wear lots of jewelry (which isn't necessarily gender ik), and dresses (I make clothing), and occasionally makeup, etc. The last time I really leaned into the trying the masc identity out, I couldn't definitively say that I felt like a man, and kind of just went "So i guess that means I'm woman then" like that's the only option. But here i am again like, I'm not vibing with this womanhood thing and this body. Maybe I'm just dumb and over thinking this.

I'm feeling like maybe I should start at a they/them? But in the area I live in, I don't know if it'd be worth the transition or safety in my irl daily life. But i already look like a very butch woman so idk if I'm fooling anybody currently either 😂😂

Idk where I was going with this. I guess i was just gonna ask y'all, do you think I might be trans?? lol.

ps. Oh and I've been wanting to like weight train and stuff to get a more masculine figure, there's a person on tiktok who I follow who does fitness stuff aimed at trans-masc ppl and I think she still goes by she/her, so like maybe that's the vibe? i don't know, her breasts are smaller and look like pecs, I don't think i can get mine that small thru exercise (but i want to ;_;)

Can you still get gender affirming surgery as a nb?

[weasleyswizardpleases]

Playing Nurse (4/4)

Summary: Fred Weasley keeps showing up in Hogwarts’ infirmary,  where you apprentice when you’re not in class, but he quickly becomes more than just a patient to you.

Warnings/notes: Blood, dental injury, bruising, broken bones. Language, kissing, some nudity, coming out. Not super graphic but it takes place in the school infirmary so people’s injuries and illnesses are described. Trans masc!Fred x fem!reader. Last chapter! Thanks for loving this one as much as I do you guys :)

Tags: @lucymfer @accioweaslcy @manuosorioh 

4. We Must Stop Meeting Like This

A week goes by before you see Fred again. You’ve pretty much given up on him liking you after your somewhat unexpected last encounter. But, like clockwork, he’s in the infirmary again over the weekend. 

When you arrive for your shift, the infirmary is already bustling. Pomfrey is doing intake on a group of students while a stern but somewhat worried looking McGonagall stands by. You take in the scene: Ron Weasley is there with a busted lip, Malfoy’s a few feet away, holding his head and looking dazed, Crabbe and Goyle by his side in disheveled states. You’re unsurprised to see an incredibly peeved Katie Bell, her stockings ripped, glaring at the Slytherins. She’s limping heavily.

“What happened here? How can I help?”

“There was… a fight,” McGonagall says tiredly. 

“Go ahead and examine Ron, should be a quick episkey, and then move on to Mr. Crabbe, I think it’ll be much the same but I haven’t had a proper look yet,” instructs Madam Pomfrey.

You take Ron to an exam table and give him a quick once over while asking him what happened. He explains that Fred and George weren’t having it and things escalated quickly.

“Turned into an all out brawl before anyone could get a word in edgewise. Percy was watching and ran to snitch, well, thank god he did, because they’re in really bad shape,” he says.

“Who? The Slytherins?” you say, using an episkey charm on his lip and a few stray scratches across his arms, probably from being thrown to the ground in the scuffle.

“Fred, especially, and Malfoy, and…” Ron continues, but you’re no longer listening. You look around and notice that the twins are unaccounted for. You’re finishing up on Ron when George and Filch come in carrying a stretcher with Fred on it. He seems barely conscious. You walk alongside them, asking all the questions you know to ask. This one is yours- Pomfrey is busy with Malfoy, who you suspect has a concussion, and will probably need to look after Katie’s ankle next.

George tells you that Malfoy hit Fred with a stunning spell, but after he fell, they kept kicking at him. You elect not to revive Fred fully yet, first casting a pain relief spell. You examine his clothed torso, feeling along his ribs, and notice that one of the bones feels out of place. You frown and continue lightly feeling along the area, and notice that he seems to be wearing a tight, thick undershirt.

“He’s got a broken rib. We’ll have to remove any garments that might constrict the area to set the bone properly. Could I ask you two to step out for a moment?” you ask, gesturing to the curtain out of the cubicle. Filch departs, but before George leaves he pauses.

“Don’t tell anyone, ok? It would break his heart,” he says seriously before stepping out.

You have little time to wonder what he means. You cut open Fred’s tee shirt and, as you suspected upon palpating his torso, find an undergarment laid tight across his chest. Like a sports bra, maybe, but why- in a flash, you understand the secret Fred was talking about the other day, and what George was saying to keep to yourself just now. It’s a binder. Of course. 

You waste no time reflecting and slice his binder cleanly down the middle to remove pressure from the area. You set about doing a complex set of spells- first checking for internal bleeding, then setting the broken bone back in place, then casting a bandaging spell so he’s not tempted to move about before it’s fully set.

“Rennervate!” you say, flicking your wand in Fred’s direction. He comes to, looking around in confusion, his eyes finally landing on you.

“How do you feel?” you ask him.

“Utter shit,” he says. “What happened, exactly?”

“Stunning spell from Malfoy or one of his goons, George said. You wound up with a broken rib from getting kicked while you were out, but the scan didn’t show anything else too terrible. Just a few bruises.”

“Those cheating bastards. I’d love to spit in their faces right now,” he says, moaning as he tries to sit up.

“Just lay down,” you say, resting your hand gently on his shoulder. “It should be pretty much healed by tomorrow morning, but it’s going to be painful until then. If you want, I can ask Pomfrey to give you something to help you sleep while I’m out fetching you a new shirt,” you offer. You pulled the blanket up to cover his chest when you finished working on his ribs, but he’s still shirtless underneath. You watch as he realizes you must have seen his chest while you were patching him up. He grimaces uncomfortably.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“I’d like that shirt, please,” he says, pursing his lips. You dash off to one of the cabinets to fetch an extra set of clothes and an extra blanket, since you know he’ll be staying the night.

“Here,” you say, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” You excuse yourself to let him change, and touch bases with Madam Pomfrey. McGonagall has taken Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle, who are all fully healed, back to her office. Katie Bell is sitting on an exam table, still looking quite angry with her swollen leg propped up high. George is lurking worriedly near the door. You make your way over to him.

“Hey,” you say quietly. “Fred is going to be perfectly fine by tomorrow. Madam Pomfrey will have a look at him to make sure there’s nothing I missed, since it was a serious injury, but his rib is all patched up.” He sighs in relief.

“And don’t worry, I won’t say anything,” you add discreetly, smiling knowingly at him. He relaxes fully and nods in return. “Good luck with McGonagall. She did not look happy.”

“Thanks, Y/N. Take good care of him,” he says, nodding towards his brother’s bed before leaving to accept his punishment.

You return to Fred’s bedside to find him looking quite sheepish.

“Feeling okay?” you ask softly. 

“Sure. Bit embarrassed. I wasn’t hoping you’d find out like this, you know.”

“Your big secret is that you’re trans? Freddie, who in the world would care about that?”

“I dunno, some people.”

“Uh, yeah, bigots,” you say, laughing. “I certainly don’t care. I’m just glad you’re ok.”

“Thanks to you. Wanna sit?” he asks sweetly. You can’t say no, so you agree to wait with him at least until Pomfrey comes in to look him over.

“So, did you ever talk to that girl?” you ask, trying to make small talk after all the excitement. He looks at you like you’re a nutcase. 

“Y/N, are you thick?” he laughs hard, causing him to wince and hold his torso. He gasps in pain, but grins through it. “Honestly, who did you think I was interested in?” he asks, biting back laughter. You look at him, your cheeks hot. What is he getting at?

“How should I know? I hardly see you, outside of keeping you alive in here,” you say defensively.

“Wow, I thought for sure you knew. I was so embarrassed when you didn’t say anything, I’ve been avoiding you for weeks!” 

“What? Why?” you ask, but it quickly dawns on you what you may’ve been missing. “Wait… what?!” you say, your hand flying to your mouth.

“Yep, you got it.”

“You like me?”

“Yes, you idiot!”

“Come here,” you say. You lean down and plant a chaste kiss on his cheek, but he pulls you in gently for a real kiss, a long one. You feel so much tension you didn’t even know you were holding in leave your body, and stand back up, laughing big, just as Madam Pomfrey parts the curtain.

“Well, everyone seems in good spirits in here,” she says. You both nod awkwardly.

“Y/N has been taking such good care of me I hardly knew I was hurt,” Fred says cheerfully. Pomfrey gives him a quick once over, agrees with your diagnoses and treatment, and leaves you two alone once again. 

“You know, we have got to stop meeting like this,” Fred says, looking up at you. “Not that you don’t look lovely in your apron.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“How about a date?”

“I certainly wouldn’t object to a nice evening with a ruggedly handsome young man,” you say, giggling gleefully. He flashes a big smile, showing off his chipped tooth.

“Well, it’s a deal. You get me up and going again and I treat you to dinner,” he says.

“Deal! I've got to go, though,” you say, planting a sneaky kiss on him before you leave, “I am at work, after all.” You practically float out the door, proud of your work in more ways than one. Fred Weasley. Yours at last. 

[that-bi-bitch-writes]

The Rumor Around Hogwarts (prologue)

Hi everyone!! This is the prologue and it is pretty much exactly what the author wrote and I don't take credit for it. I made a couple of changes to the chapter but it is towards the end so if you want to skip through you can until about the last paragraph to find the part about Y/N L/N. Enjoy!!

Male reader insert for now, future addition of they pronouns as it will lean more towards a non-binary insert with the only change being less reference to Y/N as a young boy and more gender neutral terms. Still masc/male aligned.

Previous // Next

Prologue:

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.

The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had two small sons, too, but they had never even seen them. These boys were two good reasons for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with children like that.

When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window.At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls.

"Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.

It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar -- a cat reading a map. For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realise what he had seen -- then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive -- no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs. Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.

But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes -- the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt -- these people were obviously collecting for something... yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.

Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery.

He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying. "The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard--" "-- yes, their son, Harry--" Mr. Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.

He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking... no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew was called Harry. He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey Or Harold There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her -- if he'd had a sister like that... but all the same, those people in cloaks...

He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drill that afternoon and when he left the building a five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside of the door.

"Sorry" he grunted as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realised that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary his ace split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passerbys stare,

"Don't be sorry my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating this happy, happy day!"

And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.

Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.

As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw -- and it didn't improve his mood -- was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.

"Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly.

The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.

Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!"). Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:

"And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?" "Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early -- it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."

Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters...

Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er -- Petunia, dear -- you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"

As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.

"No," she said sharply. "Why?"

"Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls... shooting stars... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..."

"So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley.

"Well, I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know... her crowd."

Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son -- he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"

"I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.

"What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"

"Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."

"Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."

He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something.

Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did... if it got out that they were related to a pair of -- well, he didn't think he could bear it.

The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind... He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on -- he yawned and turned over -- it couldn't affect them...

How very wrong he was.

Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.

Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again -- the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

"Oh yes, I've been celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no -- even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls... shooting stars... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent -- I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A what?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone--"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense -- for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't, said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too -- well -- noble to use them."

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what they're saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.

"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are -- are -- that they're -- dead."

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..." Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder.

"I know... I know... " he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke -- and that's why he's gone."

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's -- it's true ?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

"We can only guess," said Dumbledore.

"We may never know." Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

"You don't mean - you can't mean the people who live here ?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore -- you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son -- I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!?"

"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous -- a legend -- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future -- there will be books written about Harry -- every child in our world will know his name!"

"Exactly." said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes -- yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.

"Hagrid's bringing him."

"You think it -- wise -- to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore. "I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to -- what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky -- and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild -- long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir -- house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where -- ?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?" "Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map o

f the London Underground. Well -- give him here, Hagrid -- we'd better get this over with." Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house. "Could I -- could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "You'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it -- Lily an' James dead -- an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles--"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall -- Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply. Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley... He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter -- the boy who lived!"

The boy who lived, however, was not the only threat to Voldemort's plans. There was another baby boy who would grow up to be extraordinary. His fame would not reach the height of Harry Potter, but he need not be the boy who lived for he will be the boy who decided to speak.

        "I heard a rumor"

[rainwolfheart]

for the writing prompts! could you do “That’s the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me.” for Anders/Nathaniel (i also love trans masc anders if you'd like to include that)

Thank you for the prompt! This was my first time writing Nanders and it was really fun!! @dadrunkwriting

rating: T

trigger warnings: mentions of sex

--

The bann requested formal attire. Not formal armour.

Anders hadn’t expected that to be such a dreadful idea until he was looking at his trunk. Aside from his Warden armour, he had standard-issue underclothes and nightshirts, his old Circle robes, mud-stained trousers he kept for sparring practice, a warm scarf from Dael, a heavy pair of winter gloves from Sigrun, and a silky shawl he had nicked from a visiting noblewoman who called him “an accident waiting to happen.” None of that seemed apt for a soirée, except perhaps the shawl, but it wasn’t his style.

“Anders! Almost ready?” asked Sigrun, through the door.

“No,” he groaned.

“Can I come in?”

“S’pose.”

Sigrun was grinning from ear to ear in a wine-red dress and leggings.

“Lillith hemmed this for me. Whaddaya think?” she asked.

“It’s pretty,” said Anders. “Has she got another?”

“You don’t have anything?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Never thought I would prefer to wear formal armour. But we runaways don’t get to keep a lot of nice things.”

“Velanna might have an extra dress that fits you, if you want. But I have a better idea!” said Sigrun. “Come on!”

Anders followed her into the hall, and opened his mouth just a moment too late to stop her

“Nate! You decent?” she said, to the door. Nathaniel said something, and Sigrun threw open the door, dragging Anders by the hand into the room.

“Anders needs nice clothes, and you’re like the same height so it probably fits!” said Sigrun.

Nathaniel met Anders’ eyes, an inquisitive smile on his face.

“Sure. I’ll sort him out,” said Nathaniel.

“Great! See you in a bit!”

Sigrun shut the door and Anders could swear he heard her giggle.

“Need help?” asked Nathaniel.

“I guess. You don’t have to…” said Anders.

“Well, I can’t let you embarrass yourself in front of the bann and her Orlesian husband,” said Nathaniel, deadpan. Anders rolled his eyes and took a step towards the wardrobe, following Nathaniel’s  hands with his eyes.

“I’m afraid my options are a little plain, but they should fit you,” said Nathaniel. He pulled out a pale green shirt, and an identical blue one. “How are these?”

Anders reached out to touch them. They weren’t silk, but they were soft and delicate, and looked like they were new.

“They’re nice,” he said, nodding. “I like the green.”

“Try it on.”

Anders’ heart jumped. He hadn’t expected Nathaniel to be so casual about it. Anders wasn’t necessarily one for modesty, but Nathaniel always came off as so… prudish.

As Nathaniel rooted around for trousers that might fit, Anders pulled his dark grey jumper over his head and side-stepped toward the mirror to try on the new shirt. Halfway through buttoning, he felt eyes on him, and looked over at Nathaniel.

Nathaniel looked away quickly, and Anders was pretty sure that was a blush across his cheeks.

“What do you think?” asked Anders, turning to the side to see how it fit.

“Looks good. Maybe a little big,” said Nathaniel.

“We don’t all have broad archer’s shoulders,” teased Anders.

“Think these will fit? They’re a little big on me,” said  Nathaniel, tossing a pair of black trousers at him. Anders caught them and held them against his leg. Too long, but that could be fixed.

“Maybe.”

Nathaniel didn’t seem to expect him to leave, so Anders slipped off his comfortable trousers and stepped into the stiff, formal ones. They were tight around the hips and thighs, but bearable. The legs were comically long on him.

“Have you got platform boots, by any chance?” he asked. Nathaniel smirked and kneeled down in front of him. He began rolling up the legs. Anders froze, unsure if this was a normal thing. He had spent too much of his life wearing robes to be sure. Once or twice, an offer to tie the other’s shoe had turned into a quick blowjob at the Circle, but Anders doubted that was Nathaniel’s intention. As nice as that thought would be.

“There. That seems… Presentable,” said Nathaniel, standing up.

Anders turned back to the mirror to assess. By some alchemy, the trousers looked like they were the right size, and with the shirt tucked in, it looked light and billowy rather than simply oversized. Next to him, Nathaniel’s outfit unsurprisingly fit him well, but Anders didn’t look out of place. Maybe even good.

“More than presentable. Thank you…” he said. He bit his lip to hold back the emotions.

“You’re welcome. Oh, wait, your collar’s off…” said Nathaniel, reaching up to smooth down the back of Anders’ collar.

Their eyes met in the mirror, and Nathaniel’s hand lingered on Anders’ shoulder.

“I should get my boots,” said Anders. Nathaniel swallowed.

“Yeah. See you in a bit.”

The spell broke; Nathaniel turned away to gather the other clothes he had tossed around the room, and Anders gathered his own. His heart raced down the hallway and into his own room, and he let the clothes fall in a pile by his trunk.

The first bell rang. Anders quickly combed his hair with his fingers and pulled it into a braid. Dael would surely fuss over it and fix it for him before dinner, but it was good enough for now.

“Ready to go?” asked Sigrun, at his door again.

“Yes!”

“Race you!”

Anders laughed, and considered taking her up on it, but something stopped him, as Sigrun’s skirt disappeared around the corner. Nathaniel was lingering just past Anders’ door, hands in his pockets, like he wanted to walk with him.

“Ready?” he asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” said Anders. Half of him wanted to smile and tease, but Nathaniel’s soft smile made him hesitate.

“Hey, Nate, I…” he said, unsure where exactly he was going. They turned the corner together.

“What’s up?”

“Thank you. Really. This means a lot.”

Nathaniel blushed, which surprised Anders.

“It’s nothing. You can keep them, if you like,” he said.

Anders inhaled sharply. The words from the vulnerable, emotional place inside him that he usually ignored tumbled out.

“Nate, this is the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Nathaniel didn’t say anything, but he reached out to Anders. Anders leaned into whatever it was, uncertain, but going on instinct at this point.

What it was was a hug. Another kindness Anders had little experience with.

“Let’s not be fashionably late,” said Anders, trying to brush away the emotions after Nathaniel pulled away.

“What does that even mean?” he asked. Anders shrugged.

“Maybe we’ll find out.”

[agardenofmonsters]

Fae BF | Pollux | Part 2

TransMasc Reader x Masc Fae Boyfriend

You x He/Him

Yay you get to meet my new  character who I absolutely adore <3 hope you like him too!

--------------------

The world seems to tilt. The sky shimmers.

You back away from the Fae until your back hits a tree. Looking at your hands, you could almost feel the manacles clamping onto your wrists.

“Don’t act so upset,” the Fae calls. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“My whole life…” you whisper frantically. “I’ve been trapped by a name that wasn’t mine...and now that I have my proper name...I am trapped yet again!”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he says unsympathetically. “Life is what you make of it….now look alive.”

You snap to attention, feeling a little dizzy. His hand is outstretched.

“Come to me, pet.”

Your body straightens and starts walking over to the Fae.

You hate how natural it feels to obey him.

You pause as you reach him, and you watch your hand lift and place itself onto Pollux’s. He takes your hand and leans down to kiss it, sending a surge of goosebumps up your arm.

“Let’s get out of here.”

He grips your hand a little tighter. And like he did earlier, he takes you quickly through the meadow towards the monolithic rock formation like you’re fast forwarding through a movie. He uses the stone as a staircase, but his feet keep stepping even though he runs off the top of it. Despite not being able to see any of the crystal-clear steps, Pollux does not stumble, and neither do you. 

Only when you’re a couple stories up do the steps level out onto a platform. Pollux slows down and looks at you with bright, shining eyes.

“Now remember,” he taunts with a shit-eating grin. “Be on your best behavior! Don’t want any Fae to get mad at you….Trust me.”

You don’t respond.

“Alright, let’s go!” He says cheerfully, turning you around so he’s behind you. He plants a hand on your back and pushes you forward.

It’s like walking in the air, except the treetops poke through the crystalline floor. Soft, fluffy pink clouds furnish the space, billowing in giant mounds and spanning across the ground. Tree branches poke up out of the ground like flowers.

Everything was dusted with sparkles...or at least that was how everything looked.

Pollux pushes you towards the middle of two rows of booths, each with its own sets of fairies talking amongst each other in this little marketplace.

But the romantic air of the environment starts dropping in pieces as each group of Fae realize that you are there.

Then they all just stare. With their big gemstone eyes.

They would be beautiful if you weren’t completely angry or terrified.

You see now where Pollux is taking you—a giant stone obelisk stands proud at the end of the marketplace in a large clearing, and at the bottom of it is an extremely tall Fae with a crown on his head giving instruction to two smaller Fae.

“Pollux, Pollux!” you murmur urgently to him.

He ignores you.

“Ohhhh Aubergine!” Pollux yells in a sing-song fashion. “Guess what I found!”

He gives you a hard push and this time you fall to your knees. The tall Fae pinches the bridge of his nose before turning to actually look at Pollux. His gaze then falls upon you and your stomach knots with anxiety; he is breathtakingly beautiful. His ice blue eyes are accentuated by his dark purple skin, and his hair is a beautiful silvery white. You scramble to stand under his intimidating gaze, but his countenance shows no emotion.

He looks back at Pollux, cool demeanor turning icy: “What have you done?”

“Saving this poor human from the woods, obviously,” he replies, unfazed by Aubergine’s chastising.

“You know the consequences of interfering with the mortal realm, and yet you refuse to take heed of the warnings.”

Pollux rolls his eyes: “Don’t be so dramatic. I found this one alone, miles from society.”

“I don’t care for your attitude, Pollux. You have stolen a human from their home to which they can no longer return. Have you no sympathy?”

Pollux’s wings flutter angrily: “You’re just jealous that I caught one.”

“I have no need for jealousy—I just want you to understand the gravity of your actions.”

Aubergine turns to you: “On behalf of the Fae realm, I apologize for the actions of Pollux and what it has led to.”

Before you can say anything, Pollux grabs your arm and starts dragging you away from the Fae, muttering angrily under his breath.

“I’ll show him…”

“Ouch, Pollux,” you say, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “You’re hurting me.”

Pollux halts and lets go of you: “I’m sorry....he just really gets under my skin.”

“Who is he?”

“Prince Aubergine of the Fae realm. He basically just makes sure everything runs smoothly...and that rules are followed absolutely.”

“Oh, yeah I noticed his crown.”

He looks at you with a smirk: “He’s pretty handsome, isn’t he?”

You feel your cheeks get red: “I mean sure but it’s like...whatever!”

Pollux pinches your cheek: “I’m just playing with ya, don’t worry. Come on, I’m gonna show you my place.”

You follow him to a facade of white marble columns draped in luminescent fabrics. You take the large marble stairs up to a wall of drapes. Pollux parts the wall and gestures you inside with a highfalutin smile.

The inside is a large room with white marble flooring, gossamer fabrics billowing in the breeze at the outer borders. Some expensive-looking sofas sit near the middle of the room as what could be an elegant area for hosting, and a large bed waits at the very back, dressed in red linens. It was a bedroom fit for a king; and you get the strongest feeling that you don’t belong here.

Pollux is looking at you with a searching expression, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

You go up to a sofa almost in a trance and lay your hand on it, feeling the smoothness.

“Wow,” you whisper.

“What was that?” Pollux says, appearing suddenly behind you and making you jump.

You put a hand on your chest to slow your heart: “It’s amazing—what else do you want me to say?”

Pollux puts his hands on your hips and moves in close: “My bed’s pretty great too.”

Your heart jumps to your throat and you instinctively put your hands up between you two: “I’m sure it is, but it’s a no from me.”

Pollux sighs and releases you: “One day, pretty thing. One day.”

“I highly doubt that,” you mutter.

Pollux then flies over the seating area to plop down onto his bed. He stretches loudly and then turns to you.

“Very well, very well. Fetch me some food then.”

You feel your body engaging under his control but are confused: “Where do I even get food?”

“The booths near the entrance, darling. Someone will help you—oh! But first,” he says flying to the cabinets behind the sofas. “Let’s get you out of those clothes!”

He pulls out a pair of pants with an elastic-like waistband and leg cuffs: “These should fit you well.”

“I don’t need to change my clothes—”

“It’ll be fine; it’ll help you fit in better.”

“I doubt that,” you mutter under your breath.

He gives you a stack of clothes and crosses his arms, looking at you expectantly.

“Fine, I’ll wear them, but you can’t watch,” you demand.

“Alright, alright,” he says holding up his hands appeasingly. “I’ll go...here.”

He then goes to his bed and throws the covers over his head so there’s only his feet showing.

“Is this alright with you?” He asks, voice muffled from the sheets.

You don’t answer him and instead just start getting dressed. You pause for a breath because you don’t know what to do about your binder, but in the end you just decide to leave it on. 

You look over at the lump of sheets where Pollux is hiding and shake your head confusedly. For a Fae who could do anything he wanted with you, he certainly doesn’t as much as he could. And for a second, you are almost grateful.

“Okay,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. “I’m done.”

He sits up, sheets ruffling up his hair: “Well now, you look fantastic.”

Standing there, clutching yourself self-consciously while dressed in foreign clothes, you most certainly do not feel that way.

“Now, go get me some food, and be snappy!” He commands lightly.

You straighten up and leave the room without another word, wandering the path where you had been dragged by Pollux—and notice someone coming towards you.

Prince Aubergine.

Heat rises in your cheeks and you clutch your arms in reaction.

Just relax it’s fine, you’ve done nothing wrong…………….right?

You wonder whether to ignore him or give him a nod in deference and decide to go with the latter.

He watches you with icy, unrevealing eyes, but passes by you without saying anything.

You feel your blood pumping to your ears and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Alright, it’s over….now where do I get food?

Reaching the clearing where the booths were located, you are again met with stares.

“Uh—um. Pollux requested food. Is this where I can get some?”

After a beat, a kind fairy with dark skin and bright yellow eyes fetches a plate full of various fruits from one of the booths.

“This’ll do fine, hun. Pollux isn’t picky when it comes to food,” she says warmly.

“Th-thank you very much!” you sputter, taking the extravagant tray of food. You look around quickly and then do a quick bow as you rush away with your quarry.

On the way back you have more time to inspect the plate in all its glory: fruits with lustre and golden skin adorned the plate like a display fit for royalty. You are tempted to eat one, just to see what it would be like, but you remember the tales and decide against it.

I guess the Fae really do live in luxury. 

As you approach the front with the plate, you hear two voices speaking in a repressed passion.

“I knew you couldn’t stand being away from me,” says Pollux.

“Of course I care about you, how could I not?” says the second.

“You only care about getting some, and I’d be okay with that if you didn’t treat me like I’m a fool when we’re not being intimate.”

“There are rules to be followed and you treat that as if they’re mere suggestions!”

“See, just admit you love controlling me more than you love me and get it over with.”

You trip.

On one of the curtains.

Fruit goes everywhere.

But you see.

Pollux.

And...Prince Aubergine.

Looking up from where you are on the ground, you scramble up, sputtering apologies.

Pollux storms over to you, face unreadable. He takes you…….and dips you, pressing a kiss on your lips. Pulling you back up on your feet and leaving you bewildered.

But the look.

On the Prince’s face.

It barely cracked the surface, but you saw it.

Heat.

Heat in those icy blue eyes.

What does it mean?

Pollux picks up a glittering pear that lay on the ground next to his feet, he brushes it off on his clothes, and takes a bite, juice dripping down his chin.

“Still tastes good to me,” he says cheerfully, laying an elbow on your shoulder as if the whole interaction never happened.

The Prince sighs, shaking his head, and leaves, stepping around the scattered fruit. Pollux eyes him the whole way, not even trying to be clandestine.

Before he exits he looks at Pollux: “We’re not done talking.”

[mrpatrouiousachatz1993]

How to educate your kids about gender.

  When I first came out as a Trans Man, I was trying to figure away to teach my younger family members about gender identity and about Trans People. My little cousin Molly has been around transgender people ever since she was two years-old. However, when I told her I was a boy she would say “No you’re not”  but when I was in the mist of my transition she started calling me Patrouious or she would call me Pat, she would also constantly correct my family members when it came to my pronouns and remind them that my pronouns are He, Him, His. Guess how old she was when she started doing this? She was only 6 years-old. She was SIX when she started correcting family members my pronouns.  

   When my youngest sister was turning 8, I wrote her a book for her birthday that pretty much was me coming out to her. My father was against it because his belief was that I was going to “confuse the kid.”  If anything if anyone was confusing the child it was my father still calling me a she to her face after I was 2 years on testosterone and all my sister saw was my beard and was like “um you mean he?”  And you know what I remember telling my baby sister at a young age to explore gender and gender expression. 

My baby sister ever since she was 8 would break what society believed to be the “norm” in regard to gender. Some days she would wear a dress, some days she wore what people would call “boys clothing”, she even wanted to play soccer, and basketball just like I use to do. Her mom’s side of the family and our dad’s side of the family referred to her as a “girly tomboy”. Now me on the other hand I still refer to her as my sister unless she were to come out to me other wise. I do not like to assume that just because she expresses her gender in a more androgynous  way that she is automatically Genderqueer, Genderfluid, Non Binary, or even Agender. Recently she shaved one side of her head and has long hair on the other side and she loves it. She also has a nose piercing. Now that could just be the stage of a rebelling teenager,  it could be part of gender expression, or it could be both again I am not going to assume.

   A few years ago I got my now five year-old cousin the book “I am Jazz”. The story is based on a true story about a Transgender Girl name Jazz. The book was written by Jazz Jennings when she was a child about her journey as a transgender girl. She started her gender transition when she was two. I recently found out that her 3 year-old sister stole the book from her and my Uncle reads it to her every night. This kind of surprises me considering the 5 year old constantly brings up gender stereotypes and is very cisnormative. At the same time it warms my heart to know that every night my 3 year old cousin wants the children’s book Jazz Jennings wrote read to her every night. 

 I keep seeing things where people are saying allowing your kid to transition at a young age is “child abuse”, or even just exposing your child to the transgender community is “child abuse.” Let me just say one thing about that. I have worked with transgender kids before. The kids that I use to work with were between the ages of 8 and 15. Many of them knew their gender identity since they were two. Some of the kids I had were more fluid about gender. Some of the kids I had were fluid about gender but leaned more towards being Fem or Masc. Some of the kids I had have been on hormone blockers and waiting to start hormone therapy, and some of the kids I had were already on hormone therapy.  Here is the thing when it comes to kids and transitioning there are already medical guidelines from organizations like the World Professional Association for Transgender Health (WPATH) . It is not recommended by WPATH for anyone under the age of 18 to get Gender Affirmative Surgeries. However, if they do want to get surgeries done the parent should give parental consent. When it comes to hormone blockers, it is not recommended to give children who are not near the ages of puberty or who are in the first stages of puberty to get the blockers. There is more I can go on about but then this post would be too long. Some Health Insurances also have guidelines when it comes to covering transgender health care. 

The best way to teach your children about gender, is to allow them to explore gender at a very young age. Let them play around with pronouns to see which pronouns fit them. Let them play around with names they want you to call them. Also stop using gender stereotypes of Pink is for girls, Blue is for boys. Stop gender labeling clothing and let them wear what they want to wear. If you got a kid who is assigned male at birth (AMAB) and the child wants to wear a dress and glitter shoes let them. If you got a child who is assigned female at birth (AFAB) and wants to wear a dress while playing in the mud with hot wheels let them. You got a kid who wants you to use gender neutral pronouns like they, them, theirs then use those pronouns. Validating your child’s wishes and respecting their wishes is what lowers the suicide rates of transgender and gender expansive youth. 

[varricmancer]

Lavellan wearing Iron Bull’s collar locked around his neck? A really masc elf boi.

In case anyone is curious, I messaged the requester about what exactly they wanted, and so we have more domestic dom/sub than outright smut. Of course, everyone has their own rituals and practices when it comes to domestic sub stuff, but this is what went on in my head and what I decided my sweet elf boy needed. Enjoy! (Bifrost, if this isn’t to your liking, feel free to request something else! I’m sure you wanted something like making his crawl or give him a bath, but this scene is what came alive in my head. I might make this a series, eventually. I love writing Bull, so any excuse)

Everything under the cut for safety ;)

The Iron Bull x M!Lavellan || NSFW (but fluff and feels, cuz I’m me) ||  WC

The Inquisitor sighed in relief as he stripped himself of his official trappings, once more becoming just himself - Lavellan the elven man adrift in a world he barely knew without any of his clan to support him. They’d long since stopped responding to him, probably deciding he was no better than a shem at this point. He still sent supplies and reports when he could, but he was feeling more like an outsider to them than ever before. 

The humans were little better, always smiling and bowing as was polite but staring blatantly at his Vallaslin like it would come alive and bite them. They also offered bathing tips like there wasn’t water in the forests. That was one of the nicer comments, of course. 

He was simply…in between. A stray they would occasionally bring out for company before shoving him back in the closet. 

No, that wasn’t fair. Josie and Cassandra have been good to him. The others too, he supposes. He just felt so…alone. Unneeded beyond the wretched mark on his palm. 

He shook his head and went towards his overly large and ostentatious bed, sitting at the edge. He cringes when his tense muscles are stretched a little too far, vowing to visit the healer for a cream soon. He’d been practicing in the yard more and while he’ll never reach say Bull’s physique, he’d still been gaining more muscle and strength than he’d known elves were capable of. Physically, he felt more powerful and skilled than ever before. Mentally - not so much. 

Thinking of The Iron Bull brought a small smile to the elf’s face. He would even go looking for him if he wasn’t so horribly tired from his recent journey. Of course, he couldn’t be sure that the other didn’t have company already. 

That wiped the smile away quickly. 

He scratched his chin as he contemplated the carpet, trying not to think about Bull and the barmaids. Or Bull and that soldier he’d been eyeing up a few months ago. Or Bull and Dorian…something he was pretty sure might have actually happened.

But - there was also Bull and Lavellan. 

Perhaps he was putting too much importance on what were little more than trysts. True, they were quite intense encounters where he literally put his entire body and mind in Bull’s hands, but always brief and he’d never been there when Lavellan had awoken. The Qunari didn’t have the sort of relationships he wanted, after all, and he’d be a fool to think he was enough to change Bull’s mind. 

Suddenly, he heard a soft click as his bedroom door was opened and closed. Though his back was to the door, he knew instantly who it was. He inhaled greedily, the familiar musk of the man mixed with the scents of sword oil and horn balm. It was as if thinking of him was enough to summon him. 

“Hey there, Kadan,” Bull rumbled as he walked towards the bed. “Was waiting for you to come to the tavern with everyone else. Didn’t show so I thought I’d come to you.” 

“Hey, Bull,” he gave a wobbly smile, trying for nonchalance. The Qunari’s eyes narrowed barely a fraction, but enough for Lavellan to know that he was as transparent as glass to the other. 

The Iron Bull stood in front of Lavellan and stared down at him, making him feel small like only he could. He hummed slightly, reaching a massive hand out to trace the scar gracing the elf’s chin. 

“That’s new.” 

“Just another for my growing collection. Revenant,” Lavellan muttered, shrugging his shoulders. 

Bull hummed again, tilting Lavellan’s face up to meet his eyes. 

“So, we talked about me fulfilling your needs.” 

Lavellan gulped as his heart sped up, leaning into Bull’s callused thumb as he softly moved it down from the elf’s chin to his neck, lightly engulfing the entire thing in one hand. 

“And lately I’ve been noticing you needed something. So I got you a present.” 

Lavellan stared in anticipation as Bull’s other hand delved into the pocket of his horrible striped trousers. He was horribly exhausted but still couldn’t help the twitch of interest as his lower half tried to spring to life. 

With Bull it could be anything - cuffs, chains, whips. He tried to think of all the bawdy stories he’d heard over the years, attempting to think of something crazy enough for The Iron Bull. 

A gentle squeeze on his neck brought him back to the present, looking up to see Bull watching him fondly. He was holding up a strip of soft-looking black leather held together with a latch that looked to be made from Lazurite. 

“I originally wanted it pink, but I decided this was more your style,” Bull chuckles, waving the strip in front of the confused elven man. 

“Isn’t that...a collar? Did you get me a dog?” 

Bull laughs loudly, stroking his thumb up Lavellan’s neck. 

“Nah, but we can pretend I got a dog sometime if you want. No, this is for you.”

 “For...me?” 

“Mmmm. See, I realized that I hadn’t made something clear. This collar, should you choose to wear it, means you belong to The Iron Bull,” he said softly, releasing his grip on Lavellan’s neck to settle on the bed next to him and pull the elven man into his lap. 

“It means your home is right here, with me. Your needs are my needs. Your joy is my joy. Your worries are my worries. Your pain is my pain. Your pleasure is mine as well,” he purrs into Lavellan’s ear. 

Lavellan’s heartbeat was going so rapidly he could feel every single beat as he nervously tried to breathe. He had so many questions. Are they in a relationship now? What does this mean for the future? What if he had to leave? It all jumbled together as he simply stuttered out, “Y..Yours?” 

“Mine,” Bull growled. 

Lavellan shivered, fighting the sudden urge to slam the Qunari onto his bed and have his way with him. 

“Will you wear it, Kadan?” 

Again with that word. He keeps intending to ask Bull what it means but he’s almost scared of the answer. 

He nods, and Bull clicks his tongue. 

“Words,” he orders. 

“I’ll wear it,” Lavellan whispers, holding his breath as Bull immediately drapes the leather around his neck, binding the back latch securely. 

Lavellan brought his hand up to caress the leather, his eyes closing in a wave of sudden almost overwhelming relief. He began to feel that slightly fuzziness that sometimes happens when Bull has his way with him - that out of body feeling where he was safe and secure. Nothing could touch him there that The Iron Bull didn’t allow. 

“How’s it feelin’? Good?” Bull murmured teasingly, nosing Lavellan’s hair. 

He knew he was probably sporting a ridiculous dreamy smile, but he did feel good. 

“Yes. I - Bull...this...” he stuttered slightly before squaring his shoulders and looking up at the smug Qunari. 

“Thank you,” he said breathily. Bull’s smirk dimmed to something more genuine as he nodded in acknowledgment. 

“It looks good on you,” he answered softly, then picked Lavellen off his lap and stood the startled elf in front of him. “Should have a bath and get some sleep now. I know you’re exhausted.” 

Lavellan’s eyes rounded in surprise as he watched Bull walk towards the tub to activate the runes. He really meant just a bath and sleep? 

“You don’t want to fuck?” 

Bull chuckled as he added oils to the filling tub, then walked towards Lavellan to help him with his clothes. 

“I always want to fuck. But it’s not what you need right now. After we get some sleep I can give my new pet a bone,” he laughed uproariously at his own humor as he stripped the scoffing elf. Leaving the collar on after the elf gave a strangled cry of protest. 

“Fine. Gonna have to add something to it to make it waterproof if you plan on wearing it all the time, though. I thought you’d only want to wear it during playtime.” 

He lifted Lavellan easily and settled him into the bath, kicking his own things off before sliding in behind him with a satisfied groan. 

“Happy, Kadan?” 

Lavellan nodded and bit his lip, leaning back to finally ask. 

“What does that mean? Kadan?” 

The Iron Bull’s cheeks colored like he might be...blushing? He hummed as he rubbed soap onto the elf’s arms. 

“Kadan. My heart.” 

Lavellan sighed as he settled into the safe embrace of the man behind him, one hand reaching to entwine their fingers and the other to clutch at the collar encircling his neck like a shield. 

“Ma vhenan.” 

[tumblunni]

Ok so.. I feel really ungrateful as fuck saying this.. but it kinda bugs me how much perrin being nonbinary just.. isn’t really shown at all.

At least, in what i’ve seen so far, yknow? I watched the first ep of someone else’s let’s play to see if i was gonna like this game, and i like this game SO MUCH that I stopped right there and am downloading it at the speed of light yo!!! My hype is maximum and I really don’t want this to be seen as a hate message or anything, it's just a mild opinion piece about something that bummed me out a little, as a nonbinary person.

Ok so.. again, this makes me sound like an ASSHOLE but I have to say it.. Perrin looks like a boy. 100% of all LPers I have seen have assumed they were a boy. I, a nonbinary person, assumed they were a boy. (And felt like absolute shit afterwards, man I still have to work on my internalized gender stereotypes!)

Now in real life I absolutely wouldn’t go around being some douchebag who tells other NB folk they aren’t dressing ‘right’, or whatever. In real life people can feel very different ways about being outside of conventional gender norms. Some people feel like “both at once” or “neither” or “something else entirely that doesn’t touch either side of our society’s current binary stereotypes”. And regardless of whether you’re agender/bigender/genderfluid or any other type of genderqueer person, your fashion sense doesn’t have to fit any strict rule to “prove” it to people. Some people try and dress in androgenous stuff, some people try to mix parts of both gendered fashion worlds, some people like to wear very neutral baggy stuff as a different way of being androgenous, some people like to wear wild and fun stuff that never had any gender stereotype in the first place/because it helps them feel confident in themself if they have a big brave kind of fashion, yknow? (that’s why I dyed my hair at least, and why I think a lot of lGBT people do) And of course, some people just prefer ‘feminine’ or ‘masculine’ clothes regardless of not being that gender, and if we can accept that cis women can enjoy ‘tomboy’ fashion then we should accept that trans people don’t have to fit into even more rigid fashion rules in order to ‘earn’ their gender.

BUT this isn’t real life, it’s a videogame

We have a lot more context here, with the context that this is a character designed within a fandom whose previous attempts at NB representation have kinda started setting up a trend. In that context, this is a bit worrying that it’s happened again, and maybe future fangame creators are feeling like they have to do it, or something?

Like the NB protagonist Pluto in Pokemon Uranium.

They’re still someone I deeply love, but their design looks incredibly masculine aside from a side ponytail. If anything their design communicates more that they’re a younger option compared to the other two, or something?

And the two NB protagonist options Ari and Decibel in Pokemon Reborn

Their designs look like more traditionally masculine and feminine-leaning ways of being nonbinary, ykno? And that wouldn’t be bad on it’s own, but let me try and explain what I mean...

A similar issue occurs in the unrelated dating sim Hustle Cat:

Which is generally incredibly progressive and actually the first dating sim I’ve ever seen that lets you play a nonbinary protag! But you still get only two character models to choose from.

Like it’s great that they had two options to aknowledge how not all trans people are the same, but it starts to look a bit.. odd, when those two options are ‘feminine and masculine’ and no form of androgenous is ever an option. or even like.. someone with a ‘masculine’ body build but a ‘feminine’ fashion sense. That would be kind of a stereotypical way to depict a trans character but it wouldn’t just be making a random design that could fit amoungst the already existing gendered protags and then just saying they’re trans. And a lot of people found it weird how these ones seem to be drawn as like.. both on the far masculine end, just a cis man and a trans man.

Like.. even as a nonbinary person myself, I wouldn’t have known these characters were nonbinary if you hadn’t told me. And that leaves me feeling horrible about myself that I judged them on first sight, but I mean this is within a genre of entertainment that’s literally never had any Me in it and i’ve got used to being all ‘no you’re just reading too much into it’ whenever i headcanon anyone as genderqueer...

And just.. I feel like if you’re gonna just draw another two masculine and feminine looking characters, or just a second masculine one (or a weird two masculine ones that’re labelled male and female with no option for in-between...) then couldn’t you have saved time by just letting us choose our pronouns for the two you already had? like I already play a lot of games headcanoning the protag as just a masc-fashion version of my enby self, I feel like kinda the point of adding a third design would be to make it something the others aren’t already delivering. Look at it this way, you already HAVE two nonbinary characters who look masculine and feminine, just like the player could also play them as a trans boy and trans girl. Pronoun selector box is the greatest invention of our time! So what I’m really saying is not “don’t have super masc NB protags” but just “can we have another option too?”

Oh, but then that’s also been done not-so-well by certain games too.. Awesome amazing multiplayer party game dating sim Monster Prom let’s you choose your pronouns!

...except these are your only character options! All of these are very clearly intended to be read as masc or femme, you’re probably gonna feel dysphoric as heck if you play them as trans, and none of them work super well as nonbinary either. I think pretty much every NB player has always gone for Oz (yellow one), cos he’s the one that’s most capable of fitting that headcanon just by virtue of being perpetually shadowed. Tho still his default is “he” pronouns, his fashion sense is masc and his voice is masc. Still I’m really fuckin proud of the fandom for collectively latching onto NB Oz and using “they” all the time in fanworks, and then the developers being okay with it, like holy shit man you healed my goddamn heart... <3

Still, it makes me feel a lil like this would have been easy to fix? like I’m not saying redraw everything to have them all change bodies/fashion style depending on your pronoun choice, but like.. maybe just not draw them with such super disparate body styles in the first place? like in this style every girl is hourglass and has weird legs out arms out pose, and every dude is a chunkfest with twice as big hands and feet. Like you could have maybe just made two of the characters be a very curvy girl and a very buff boy, and then the other two be more neutral in appearance but still retaining the same designs. Like I think if you just gave the blue girl a baggier shirt that doesn’t highlight her boobs and hips so much, she could easily be my favourite ‘most NB-able’ design! maybe also tone down the eyelash and lipstick effects?

I think probably a similar thing could have been done with the Reborn protagonists? like there’s nothing inherantly feminine about wearing a tanktop and having a fancy undercut hairstyle and such, its just the way they drew Ari that makes them look feminine. I guess maybe that’s a necessary evil of fangames, since they usually use edits of already existing characters from the games? Then again the games have plenty of androgenous characters already, even if nobody is canonically confirmed as LGBT. *shrug*

Anyway

I absolutely am not trying to nitpick and attack the game for not being perfect in this one aspect. i’m still super excited to even see someone like me in a videogame at all, and I’m definately not one of those people who’s like ‘I’d rather have nothing than have something flawed’. I already admire you greatly for what you’ve done for the inclusivity of this fandom, and I hope that my discussion of this stuff doesn’t discourage you from continuing.

And I guess my point is, in summary

What I mean is not “there are no nonbinary people who prefer to dress masculine instead of androgenous”, but instead that when you’re designing a nonbinary person as the only option a nonbinary player gets or the only nonbinary person in the game, with no playable option, it would probably be a little better to draw them androgenous.

Like, you’ve put that NB character into the role of representing all nonbinary people ever, to the hypothetical audience of people who’ve never heard of the concept before and aren’t super educated about the intricacies of gender presentation. And then also rather than using traditionally gendered outfits to aknowledge that NB people have many ways to present themselves... you’ve given us less ways to present ourselves.

Also it’s a little bit odd that you have an NB rival but said “we’re not ever considering an NB player option in the future”. Sorry but I cannot understand the logic? Like.. you know NB people play your game if you wanted to put NB representation in it, but you didn’t put it as playable because... reasons?? I hope maybe that interview was just taken out of context and you meant something more like “it’s not planned for now because it’s a lot of work and the game is still in its demo stage”, which is absolutely an understandable reason and how Uranium and Reborn did it. But Uranium and Reborn were kinda odd for being a world where literally nobody else aside from you could ever be NB, so I am really grateful that your game did add an NB character. And one in a big role!! This is what i mean about how grateful I am and how I feel awful that my bad internet typing skills are making this post come off as more aggressive than intended.. *sigh*

OH and also maybe a tip for Periin? just.. like.. mention their pronouns. It’s really frustrating to watch everyone doing let’s plays of this thing and constantly assuming Perrin is male because their design is very masculine. Even me! Even me was assume! :( So like... maybe just have Perrin actually tell the audience that they are nonbinary at some point, during this introduction? or have the protagonist’s inner monologue mention it, or another character mention it on the way towards meeting Perrin? like I dunno, maybe a Perrin fan npc?cos it would seem a bit more natural to talk about gender if it’s someone saying “wow I admire Perrin’s androgenous fashion sense” rather than like.. a stranger saying “i can’t tell if you’re a boy or a girl from your face”.

I can understand how it can be tricky to figure out how to introduce a LGBT character’s LGBT-ness without having them go around saying it to every new person they meet, it’s something I’ve had to fix in the editing process even as a trans person writing trans characters. But just having their gender only be mentioned on missable promotional material outside the game means that a lot of players won’t ever hear about it, and it like.. has zero impact of actual inclusivity on the game. It’s why people were angry about DUmbledore only getting revealed as gay after the series already ended. Him being gay missed all of its chances to make gay readers of the series feel welcome, or have any part of his character be informed by his sexuality. like the plot between him and grindlewold could have been way more effective if it was him losing a boyfriend to the dark arts, just sayin...

anyway whatever, bunni is bad at writing coherant posts in summary thanks for perrin and sorry for whining about perrin, aaaaa

[litcci]

IN-DEPTH CHARACTER SHEET

CREDIT TO SIR ENDESR AT THIS WRITING FORUM.

Reblog or repost. DO NOT remove credit.

TAGGED BY: nobody i STOL this

TAGGING: @melligine, @serapheit​ (honestly use whichever oc you’re feeling tbh!!), @kaqenui​, @infernosis​ THIS ISN’T A PARTICULAR LIST S O  FEEL FREE TO STEAL THIS REALLY!!!! i had fun doing this

FULL NAME: Selen Cypress Steele MEANING: Selen’s name is the Sami variation and I couldn’t actually find a meaning for it!!! However when used in Turkish, it means gospel or asset Cypress and Steele should be obvious NICKNAME: Sel. Right now only like, two people are allowed to use this MEANING: Should be obvious!! AGE: 23 BIRTHDAY: February 20th ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Aquarius GENDER: Agender, masc presenting He doesn’t feel much alignment to any particular gender, but he’s very content with the way he presents currently

ALLERGIES: None. SEXUAL PREFERENCE: Men and masculine people, exclusively. THEME SONG(S): Honestly I couldn’t think of much BUT...

APPEARANCE HAIR COLOR: White. Just straight up white. He’ll deny it but it’s absolutely white. HAIR STYLE AND LENGTH: Choppy and asymmetrical; longer on his right hand side, which he usually keeps in a little braid. The shorter side sits just above chin length. Tends to let it get shaggy EYES COLOR: Muted brown HEIGHT: 5′8′‘ | 173cm. Not as blessed with height as some of his other family members, but it could be worse. WEIGHT: 134 lbs | 61 kg. OUTFIT/CLOTHING STYLE: Tends to be pretty extra, favouring thicker fabrics and fur. Sweaters are a constant. When not working he leans towards a more minimal style. DISTINGUISHING MARKS(SCARS, MOLES): Freckles everywhere (face, arms, legs), a few scars here and there SELF CARE(MAKE UP): Occasionally he’ll fill in his eyebrows if he’s feeling insecure; he favours nice perfumes and colognes, too (especially vanilla scents) FIRST IMPRESSION ON PEOPLE: Composed, a little unapproachable SKIN COLOR: Pale beige, prone to sunburn and reddening. BODY TYPE/BUILD: A little on the scrawny side, but there’s some definite muscle definition around his arms and core DEFAULT EXPRESSION: Neutral and focused. Resting bitch face honestly. Some days, you might be able to spot a little smirk--usually in the company of the king. POSTURE: Upright, hands on hips, hands by his side--he’s ready. He keeps his arms folded when he’s relaxed, shifting his weight onto one leg. PIERCINGS: Both ears. He rarely wears earrings these days and they’ve pretty much sealed up, though DESCRIBE THEIR VOICE: Pretty monotonous, more so out of being calm than anything. Usually fairly quiet, doesn’t speak particularly quickly or slowly. As he warms to you, it becomes more rhythmic and emotive

RELATIONSHIPS MOM: Jerusha Steele HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: It’s complicated. They’ve not been in contact since Selen left Belori. Selen completely understands why she acted the way she did towards him--he was equally heartbroken and angered by his father’s disappearance. But the way she went about it is something he can’t forgive so easily, and has left an impact he’s still healing from. He’s not rushing to see her again, but he still thinks about her. DAD: Tobejas Steele HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: Again, it’s complicated. Up until the age of 10, the two got on wonderfully. The man was very up front about his heritage and what he was, with Selen embracing it as best he could. Calm, gentle, fun, and all around a fantastic father figure. After his disappearance--knowing it was planned and how his mother reacted to it--Selen’s opinion of his father is incredibly bitter. He’s not as desperate for answers as he was (he’s stopped actively looking for him). Out of spite, he’s choosing to barely acknowledge certain aspects of his heritage, but he still holds lingering respect for him he’s barely aware of. The braid in his hair is the same one his father wore, after all.

SIBLINGS: Saskia Steele HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: Like a house on fire. She’s aware of his whereabouts but hasn’t told her mother, but the two of them share an incredible amount of mutual adoration, respect and hatred of their father. CHILDREN: None. HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: N/A. PAST LOVER(S): One. Very short lived. Admittedly, it was out of desperation on both their parts and they were barely compatible, but not from lack of trying. Selen was the one to be broken up with. CURRENT LOVER: A certain king. Selen’s been head over heels for him for the last three years and it doesn’t look like this is stopping any time soon. And really, he couldn’t care less about peoples’ opinions about their differences in ranks. He’s in deep. REACTION TO MEETING SOMEONE NEW: By default, he’s sceptical of their intentions, but he greatly enjoys listening to them and what they have to say. That scepticism persists for a while, but he’ll still act friendly enough. ABILITY TO WORK WITH OTHERS: He’s more of a follower than a leader and takes to orders like a fish to water.  Still, he feels he works better alone than in a group. That being said, there’s been some definite improvement in his approach in recent years. LEAST FAVORITE TYPE OF PERSON: People who are overly curious or obnoxious, honestly. He needs his privacy and to save his energy. PARENTAL TYPE(PROTECTIVE, ETC): He’s remarkably good with children!! He’d be far more protective of his own children, but he’s the sentimental type. Days out, reading bedtime stories, listening to everything the kid has to say.

PERSONALITY …WHEN YOU FIRST MEET THEM: A little stiff, but it’s obvious he’s making an effort to be friendly. Acts calm and collected, but aspects of someone who’s a little inexperienced still shine through. …AS YOU KNOW THEM BETTER(AND THEY LIKE YOU): Talks and smiles a lot more!! He starts being a lot more playful (think awful jokes and awful puns), but also a lot more protective. He gets a lot more receptive to affection too. …AS YOU KNOW THEM BETTER(AND THEY DISLIKE YOU): Resting bitch face.  Passive aggression. To an extent--with his words at least--he’s capable of hiding his feelings very well, but it boils over to a point of outright rudeness. FAVORITE COLOR: Red, some shades of purple, green FAVORITE FOOD: He would die for banana bread FAVORITE ANIMAL: Cats FAVORITE ELEMENT: Water (ironically, he can’t swim) LEAST FAVORITE COLOR: Blue, yellow LEAST FAVORITE FOOD: He’s not a big fan of pizza LEAST FAVORITE ANIMAL: Like most, he’s not too fond of insects. HOBBIES: Fashion, photography, and... knife throwing. He’s starting to develop a budding interest in gardening, too. USUAL MOOD: Calm, focused DRINK/SMOKE/DRUGS: Occasional drinker. He’s a stress smoker, but it’s a habit he’s trying to stop. And occasionally. He’s done weed before no thanks to a certain someone’s influence. DARK VERSION OF SELF: He’s inherently very neutral, so there’s nothing especially light or dark about himself LIGHT VERSION OF SELF: Again, he’s neutral! HOW SERIOUS ARE THEY: Pretty serious, but he can definitely appreciate fun and doing things on the spur of the moment CLASS IN AN RPG: Rogue BELIEVE IN GHOSTS: Eh (IN)DEPENDENT: Independent. VULNERABILITY: People he loves getting hurt, his loyalty being challenged, his past to some extent OPINION ON SWEARING: Occasionally! Never at work. Gotta stay professional. DAREDEVIL VS CAUTIOUS: Cautious MUSIC TYPE: He’s fond of chilled out electronic music, but he’ll honestly listen to anything. MOVIE TYPE: He doesn’t have an absolute favourite--rather, he likes specific films rather than overall genres. He’s biased towards adventure, however. BOOK TYPE: Murder mysteries, hands down COMFORTABLE TEMPERATURE: Anything below 50F is nice. He’s cold. He can appreciate warmer weather in small doses, but anything beyond that is a nightmare for him SLEEPING PATTERN: Very structured, sleeps about 8-9 hours a day consistently. If he can’t get that, he’ll gladly nap. CLEANLINESS/NEATNESS: Very tidy and organised, though things turn to disarray when he’s stressed out DESIRED PET: He’d love a cat, or a tortoise HOW DO THEY PASS TIME: People watching, so much people watching BIGGEST SECRET: Unless you ask, everything about him is a secret... so in a strange way, he doesn’t have any particular secrets. He still greatly prefers being mysterious, though HERO/WHO THEY LOOK UP TO: His sister and the last king of Melcio WHAT ANIMAL WOULD THEY BE: ......Cat. Like honestly i thought about this for a few minutes but no he’s a damn cat i can’t do this FEARS: The king’s assassination, especially if it’s something he can prevent. He’s not the best about being controlled or manipulated, either. Or blood. COMFORTS: Piping hot cocoa, fairy lights, hugs--but only if he knows you well enough

HOW DO THEY REACT TO… DANGER: Tries to be as level headed as possible, thinking of every solution to get out of it SOMEONE THEY HATE WHO HAS A CRUSH ON THEM: Straight up tells them no, no hesitation whatsoever. PROPOSAL TO MARRY: Depends who it’s from. If it’s from a certain someone he’s definitely gonna start crying. Anybody else? ‘...Um.’ DEATH OF LOVED ONE: Isolation, solemn sadness... after a while. Then it turns to eventfulness if applicable. DIFFICULT GAME/MATH/ETC: Frustration, honestly. He’d want to walk away from the problem and start again if he can, but if it’s under pressure he’ll just take a deep breath and do the best job he can INJURY: Tries his hardest to ignore it and power on through until he has no choice SOMETHING IRRESISTIBLY CUTE: If it’s an animal he’d want to try and lure it in and say hello!!

HISTORY BIOGRAPHY: yaint

FIRST APPEARANCE: He’d face’d first be put to the public after his appointment of first knight, by the king of Melcio’s side on excisions.

KNOWLEDGE LANGUAGES: I’m not sure how we’re going about languages over at Frucitaion lmao but he definitely has a couple under his belt SCHOOLING LEVEL: High school graduate FAVORITE SUBJECT (S): Psychology, textiles, math INTERESTED CAREERS: He considered pursuing psychology further at one point, but his heart was set on militia EXPERTISE: Ditto CHEMISTRY: C MATH: A+ LANGUAGE: B GEOGRAPHY: B POLITICS/LAW: A COOKING: B MECHANICS: A BOTANY (FLOWERS): A MYTHOLOGY: D DRAMATICS(ACTING,SINGING): A, exclusively for acting

READING LEVEL: High school graduate HOW GOOD ARE THEY AT PLANNING AHEAD: Very good, and he adores it. 500 things that could go wrong are considered and worked around, almost to the point of obsession. You can never be too careful.

ROMANCE . DO THEY TAKE INITIATIVE: He’s perceptive, so he knows when and how to initiate when it’s needed! Otherwise he takes a backseat, since his boyfriend is the affectionate sort. HOW DO THEY ACT(SHY,ETC): Shameless and unapologetic, honestly. It takes a while for him to come out of his shell, but when he does he’s staying and he’s gonna enjoy himself, PDA and all. GENTLEMAN/LADYLIKE VS KLUTZY: Somewhere in between! He has his moments of being a klutz when he’s truly being himself, though he enjoys putting on a gentlemanly facade. Really, he can’t take himself seriously. GO SLOW VS JUMP INTO: Slow. PROTECTIVE: Absolutely. He’d put his life on the line to keep Carmi safe ACT LIKE FRIENDS OR LOVERS: Lovers, no mistake about it. WHAT KIND OF PRESENTS DO THEY BUY: Tends to pick his gifts carefully, with plenty of sentimentality behind most of them! It’s hard to resist some impulse buys, though. Plants are always a must, but things that remind him of his significant other or trips out they’ve had together are always welcome. TYPE OF KISSER: He’s prone to quick impulsive kisses, but he has a tendency to get really into it once he gets going DO THEY WANT KIDS: He’d love to adopt whenever they feel they’re ready DO THEY WANT TO MARRY: He’s not rushing, but he’d love to MAKE GOOD OR BAD DECISIONS: Ones that are beneficial to both parties. So yes, mostly good. He can make poor decisions that are too extreme, especially when it comes to keeping his loved ones safe. ARE THEY ROMANTIC: Definitely. He’s all about the corny, cliche stuff, as long as they’re both having a good time. HOW ARE THEY IN BED: Touchy, loud, pretty average? He isn’t sure. Ask his boyfriend. He’s pretty receptive and attuned to what his partner wants, though. GET JEALOUS EASY: Not at all! He knows Carmi has a lot of love to give--that’s why he adores him so much MARRY FOR MONEY: Nope FAVORITE SEX POSITION: -- WHAT WOULD HAPPEN ON THEIR DREAM DATE: Something corny, like a picnic at sunrise or a trip to the aquarium and a nice meal afterwards. OPINION ON SEX: He likes it, but he doesn’t need it and definitely has to be in a certain mood for it.