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dailydragon08 · 9 days

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hi! if it's ok I'd love to request a scenario for the star wars gang please :) I'd love to see how they all react to a genderfluid s/o (if you have any questions plz dm me :D)

thank you!

Thanks so much for the ask! Sorry this took so long, I was on a bit of a semi-hiatus, but am back now and working on the other asks in my box! Also, thank you to @kaleidoscope1967eyes for some of the suggestions in here!

I think everyone would kind of be in the realm of similar reactions here, but with a few small differences. Everyone is very accepting about you being gender fluid and doesn’t make a huge deal of it, but are very protective of you in different ways. Eventually, they all get a knack for being able to tell whether you’re leaning more masc, fem, or somewhere in between for the day just by your clothes and hairstyle and will adjust pronouns accordingly if necessary.

Growing up as royalty and a major player in both the imperial senate and the New Republic, Leia is always on top of the latest fashions (which I wish they explored more in other media, but I digress). I think she’d be so interested in helping you adapt different clothing and hairstyles to how you were feeling that particular day and loves finding an outfit that either matches or sort of rhymes what you’re wearing to any events—or even just day-to-day wear. Being royalty and a politician, she’s traveled a lot, so this isn’t a new concept to her at all, and she thanks you for telling her with a warm smile and shoulder squeeze before getting down to business for the day. She’s very adamant that you not only have all the gender-affirming things you need day to day, but also that your preferred pronouns are written correctly in all official documents.

And if someone tries to misgender you or discriminate against you in any way whatsoever, Leia will give them the biggest dressing down of their life – no matter the time, place, or audience – and make sure they know to never pull anything like that ever again. By the time she’s done, they’re standing there like a chastised, guilty toddler as they apologize to you. If she had to, Leia would glare down and lecture the entire senate until they not only got it right, but didn’t even think about forgetting or getting it wrong ever again.

Luke is very accepting and wants you to feel safe and welcome with him above all else. He would make sure to give you a soft smile and thank you for telling him before opening up a discussion to make sure he was doing everything he could to support you and learn how he could improve. He does research on his own as well and if you’re also Force-sensitive, he will get you as many custom-made Jedi robes as you want so you have options for whatever you’re feeling day to day. He checks in with you frequently, both verbally and through the Force, to make sure you’re feeling okay and check if you’re using different pronouns from the day before. If you’re comfortable, he starts doing a daily check in via telepathic connection each morning so that even if you don’t have time to talk or are several rooms away, he’s still well informed.

The way he defends you differs a bit from his sister. If someone misgenders you or makes any sort of unnecessary comment, he’ll immediately interrupt and correct them. His face and tone stay as calm and serene as ever thanks to his Jedi training, but you can feel the irritation flowing off of him if it’s anything more than an innocent mistake. If this person continues with their behavior, he’ll correct them again and ask them to be respectful and make it clear in no uncertain terms that he sees any disrespect to you as disrespect to him and that the two of you will be walking away until they can conduct themselves better. Afterwards, he’s checking in on you and apologizing for the experience so gently and doing whatever it takes to make you feel better.

Han being Han of course makes some harmless, playful remark the first time your style drastically changes in front of him. But once you explain you’re gender fluid, he takes it in stride with a “good to know; so what are we doing for lunch?” He tends to be more observant than people give him credit for – especially with those he cares about – and although he gets good at knowing what you’re feeling that day with a glance, still decides to make a “Gender of the Day” game. Traveling around on the Falcon with him puts you in constant proximity and you find yourself stealing his shirts and jackets quite often on more masc-leaning days (which never hesitates to pull a cocky compliment or pickup line from him).

Anyone who dares to make a snide comment gets Captain Solo in full force, with a low “listen here, pal” as he leans across the table and makes sure they know if it happens again, they’ll not only have an angry sharpshooter on their hands, but also a pissed off Wookiee.

To follow up, Chewie (platonic) also is immediately accepting and although you can’t understand his language, you overhear Han keeping him up to date with your pronouns every day. Eventually, you learn from C-3PO’s translation that Chewie goes out of his way to ask someone in the OT gang every morning (and sometimes directly comes to you with the protocol droid’s help) just to make sure he’s got it right. He’s more than happy to help Han defend you as well and even when it’s just the two of you, he gives an ominous growl as he stands up to his full seven feet if anyone gives you trouble.

Similar to Leia, Lando is also well-traveled and an avid lover of fashion. This isn’t a new concept to him at all and in fact, when the two of you meet, he’s already asking what your preferred pronouns are. Like the princess, he’s also always elated to help you adapt your fashion choices and has many things custom-made for you – you can hardly say you like something or wish an aspect of a piece of clothing was a little different before he’s already buying it or having his tailors work on it. He even gifts you some articles of clothing that are a two (or even three!) in one via folding a flap a certain way, zipping something, etc. so that one shirt or pair of pants can double as either more masc, fem, or in between.

He's extremely protective of you, no matter who is giving you problems, and will always insert himself between you and the perpetrator with a hey before correcting them in a tone that leaves no room for argument. Especially with his higher rank in the rebellion, he can easily have someone removed from the room if needed and if Chewie’s nearby, employs the Wookiee’s help as well.

R2-D2 (platonic) chirps and beeps while wobbling on his outer legs to let you know he understands and is more than happy to support you. Although you can’t typically understand his noises, he still will sneakily change code in official documents or computer systems to reflect correct pronouns and if someone’s giving you a hard time, he’ll use one of his little retractable arms to give them a little shock.

C-3PO (platonic) of course is aware of gender fluidity, but has never met someone like you – at least, not that he remembers before his memory was wiped. Ever since then, he’s been glued either to Leia or Luke’s side, so hasn’t had a chance to experience much outside of the chaotic workload the rebellion usually requires. But he’s so interested and excited to ask you questions if you’ll allow, but also makes sure to educate himself on his own. You have to hold back your laughter sometimes when he excitedly comes to you about some new piece of information he found as if you didn’t know it yourself – but of course, halfway through his excited ramble, he remembers who he’s talking to and goes “oh, I’m so terribly sorry” before offering to help you in any way he can, always interrupting and correcting people when needed, and if they don’t back down, telling them point blank “well, I think you’re rather rude.”

Taglist: @kaleidoscope1967eyes @masterlukessaber @coffeeorsomething-irl @eveningserenityyy @victorian-nymph @lxstfathier @rogue-kenobi @lavandula-ipsum @sonofthedunes @pomplalamoose @lex-the-flex @ilovemarkhamill

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quietblueriver · 5 days

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fingers crossed for your writing! prompt for you: mask

Hi!! Thank you so much for the prompt and the crossed fingers. Very happy to be writing Avatrice again. Here’s a short, soft thing and a play on both mask and masc that’s hopefully not too far off the mark. 💜💜💜

Ava leans against the doorway and watches as Beatrice stares at a black t-shirt that she assumes came from the basket of clean clothes beside the bed, lips pulled down at the corners, a few locks of newly shorn hair falling over her forehead with the angle. Ava wants to tuck it back, run her own thumbs over the buzzed sides in that way that makes Beatrice close her eyes and breathe a little deeper.

“Hey,” she says more quietly than she normally would, smiling gently as Bea’s attention snaps to her, body visibly tightening in the moment it takes for her to assess Ava’s threat level. Once a soldier and all that.

“Sorry to surprise you.” She sticks out a socked foot and wiggles it, thick pink and purple stripes on display. “Got a comfy assist with my stealth game. Camila was not joking with this yarn.”

The tension leaves Bea’s body as she lifts her left leg from where it hangs over the side of the bed to wiggle back with her own pair, a more muted blue and gray sticking out from the bottom of gray sweatpants. She doesn’t say anything, but she puts the shirt down and shifts on the bed, tucking socked feet criss-cross underneath her knees and creating a space that Ava fills happily, crossing her own legs so that their thighs are pressed together.

“You good?”

“Yes,” Beatrice offers quickly before she catches herself, shrugging a shoulder at Ava with a small smile. “Mostly,” she amends, and Ava indulges her earlier impulse and presses Bea’s hair back from her forehead before running her thumb over the clipped hair just above her ear. As she’d hoped, she gets fluttering eyes and a content sigh.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Brown eyes blink open and she runs a hand through her hair before turning her head to face the mirror that hangs from their closet door. Ava’s eyes follow, and they meet in the glass, Ava leaning over to rest her chin on Bea’s shoulder.

“‘Sup, handsome?” Her breath tickles Bea’s cheek and she rolls her eyes even as she smiles that smile she saves for Ava, a little bit of pink in her cheeks.

Her eyes drift and Ava presses a kiss to her cheek before settling back and giving her some space.

“I look like my uncle.”

Ava stops fiddling with their duvet, brings her eyes slowly back to Beatrice in the mirror. She’s waiting for her, lips turned up just slightly and eyes soft, and she dips her head a little to let Ava know it’s okay to keep looking, to keep checking.

And she does, eyes tracking the movement of Bea’s chest and the twitch of her toes where they’re pressed under her knee, a flash of soft blue wool.

“Jacob. His name was Jacob. He was…” The shift in her expression as she searches for the words she needs brings her lips to a pout, but her tone isn’t sad or angry when she finds what she’s looking for. “I wanted very badly to be like him, when I was small. He laughed a lot, and he was very smart but he didn’t…he didn’t use it to make me feel small. He was silly with me, in a very intentional way. Always sought me out and asked me questions and told me jokes that…well, you would have liked them.” Ava sticks her tongue out at her and Bea looks a little proud and a lot fond. “Exactly. I didn’t know what to do with that, but I liked it.” She pulls at the silver chain around her neck, the ghost of a prayer. “He died when I was eight. A car accident. I think…looking back on his funeral and the people who were there, I think maybe he was…like me.” Her jaw clenches, determined, and Ava loves her as she says, voice firm, “Gay. I think he was gay.”

Ava moves a hand to the small of Bea’s back, and Bea puts a hand on her knee, skin warm through the fabric of Ava’s leggings.

“It…as far as I know it was a surprise to my father. Uncle Jacob always brought dates to the big Christmas party and to all of the family events, beautiful women that were funny like he was and talked to me like they cared what I had to say but also like I was still a child, like I was only expected to be a child. One of them snuck me extra cake when my mother wasn’t looking, but when she winked at me, suddenly I couldn’t eat anything else.”

She’s blushing a little, and Ava presses her lips to the cotton covering her shoulder, smiling into it.

“Uh-huh.”

The blush deepens, and Ava smothers the rest of her grin against Bea, grasping and squeezing at her forearm to encourage her to keep talking.

She does, smile dimming a little as she says, “They were there at the service, those women, but so were a lot of other people I’d never seen before, all in a big group together.” Her fingers move against the fabric of her sweats, tug at her black tee, the twin to the one discarded a few minutes ago. “They were in the back of the line to greet us, at the wake, and my father was so…” Fingers run with agitation through already mussed hair. “He was so rude to them, Ava. Gritting his teeth and saying nothing when they offered condolences and shaking hands hard enough that he made people wince. I went to the bathroom and heard two of them talking about how it wasn’t any wonder ‘Jay’ lived like he did. I’d never heard anyone call him Jay before, and I didn’t know what they meant, but I knew better than to ask my parents.”

She swallows and Ava covers the hand on her knee with her own, quiet because she’s not sure if Bea is finished and she is trying her very best these days to give Bea the same space that Bea gives her to say what she wants to say. Even if it makes Ava squirm with the desire to comfort, to fill the silence.

“We left the wake as soon as we could without it being socially unacceptable to the people my parents cared about. My father was so angry on the ride home that my mom was afraid to talk to him, and…” The shaky breath makes Ava so fiercely protective that the halo starts humming under her skin. “After he pulled me into the car, I made myself as small as I could. He went into his study and slammed the door when we got home. They never talked about Uncle Jacob again. It was like he died twice.”

“Bea.” Her hand moves to rest between shoulder blades, presses in in comfort. “I’m so sorry.”

Beatrice smiles at her in the mirror before breaking their connection to turn and kiss her. The angle is a little awkward, their bodies having twisted over the course of the conversation, so she moves to fix it, adjusting so her knees are pressed to Bea’s thigh and making her hands at home on the sides of her neck. When Beatrice pulls back, she backs herself against the headboard and lifts an arm, and Ava’s chest is tight with affection as she moves into the space and settles, hand gripping the front of Bea’s shirt a little possessively. They’ve had this now for months, this bed and this apartment and this time together without world-ending bullshit, but she’s still not used to the luxury of it, of open, unapologetic affection, of Bea’s heartbeat steady under her ear, of time stretching out instead of bearing down.

“It surprised me, when I looked into the mirror and saw him.” Her voice is quieter like this, and Ava feels her words as she says them, cheek pressed against her chest. “In a good way.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Fingers run through her hair and Ava lets her eyes close. “I wish I could have known him. I wish he could have known me.”

Ava nods against her. “Me too. He sounds way better than the rest of your family, not that that’s a high bar.” The words slip out thoughtlessly but she doesn’t want to retract them. They’re past pretending Ava wouldn’t halo blast Bea’s parents into the nearest body of water on sight and mostly past Bea feeling guilty for wanting her to. “I’m sorry you didn’t have him for longer.”

“Mmm.” It’s a little absent. A beat. “I used to be a nun.”

Ava opens her eyes at that, pushes up a little to raise an eyebrow at Beatrice.

“Oh yeah? I didn’t know.”

Beatrice pokes her in the ribs and she giggles as she settles back down.

“Yes, thank you.” Her voice softens, quiets. “I understand him. Or I think I do. Why Uncle Jay lived the way that he did.”

Ava splays her hand across Bea’s ribs.

“You used to be a nun.”

“Yes.” Lips touch her hairline. “I am glad that I’m not anymore.”

Ava presses her own lips against the body underneath her. “Me too.” She traces a pattern on Bea’s ribs. “I think he would be proud of you. Of who you are. Of how brave you are.”

Her body moves with Beatrice’s exhale. “I think he would have liked you.”

Ava pulls her chin up to rest against Bea’s sternum and grins her best roguish grin. “Well, I’m very charming.”

Her stomach swoops at the look Bea gives her, adoration undisguised and voice earnest. “Yes. You are. You’re wonderful.”

The kiss is short but sure, leaving Ava a little breathless. Affection thrums in her veins, and she pulls and pushes at Bea’s body until they’re reversed, Bea’s head pillowed on her chest and Ava’s fingers running through short hair, scratching at the nape of her neck. She runs her fingers under the silver chain and turns her head to watch their reflection. Bea’s eyes are closed, her breath slowing, and Ava takes the opportunity to look at her, sees for a moment Sister Beatrice as she was when Ava met her, ashamed and hiding so much of herself, desperately trying to be what everyone wanted and needed her to be.

Her heart breaks a little, for little Beatrice who became Sister Beatrice and for a man she never met. She blinks away the specters in the mirror and sees Bea again, soft and sleepy and brave, and presses a kiss of gratitude to her head.

#avatrice #avatrice fic #wn prompt fic

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ankiebitez · 9 months

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Obey Me! with a goth Mc

lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan

notes:

this was written with the like 80s trad goth style in mind so like big teased up hair, bold makeup and clothes, etc. plus some of my own experiences bc I've been into alternative stuff since i was a kid and i live in the south so

i don't think there's anything gender specific in here but i mean. this is mostly just self indulgent and i am a guy so idk if i should put gn or male reader but ehhh i might go back later and add some stuff specific to a male/masc reader bc there's like crumbs of male mc content

im gonna try to do the other brothers and side characters too if i can but i just felt like posting these for now bc i need some time to think of stuff for the others

Lucifer:

probably wouldn't care much or think much of it when you first show up

i feel like he would like some kinds of goth music and it might be one of the things that helps him warm up to you

he would probably like more of the melodic types though, probably not too into the like 80s synth type stuff

anyone that makes fun of you for how you dress and look is gone immediately. no questions asked, they're just gone.

if he's close to you he might let you try doing his makeup and hair ONCE with enough begging, but will immediately wash it off and say to never do it again. (even though he secretly liked it)

i could see him listening to rosetta stone and christian death probably

mammon:

probably got scared the first time he saw you if you do like extreme makeup and everything

"lucifer are you sure that's a human?"

wont say anything to you about it though

after he warms up to you (like within 10 minutes) he loves it though

i feel like he'd be okay with some goth/80s music but wouldn't pay it much mind to have favorite artists, would probably like a good few songs separately though

would let you try to do his makeup and hair whenever you want, would complain about it but wouldn't mean it and would blush the entire time you do his makeup

wouldn't mind doing goth related stuff with you as long as it's not too scary

finding, altering, dyeing, or styling clothes? he'll totally help

going looking for records? he'll go with you

going to goth clubs? he'll totally go with you and he'll probably have a good time

if you want him to watch horror movies or something though, he'll do it but you're gonna have to hold him probably

would probably say the "damn i want a goth gf/bf" thing to attempt to flirt with you unironically

is like ur guard dog anyone that makes fun of you is getting chased down the halls of rad

leviathan:

probably wouldn't care much when you show up

would probably still consider you a normie and would be surprised if you told him goth people get made fun by other people in the human world

would defend you from anyone that makes fun of you or tries to, he's summoning lotan

thinking about when a alternative creator i like said something about solidarity between alternative people and people that are into anime stuff and then said in the 2000s when she was 14 someone made fun of the dude she was dating for liking anime and she "defended his honor" by beating the shit out of him THATS YALL

admires you for dressing how you do and asks you how you have the confidence for it

i could see him listening to some goth stuff but opposite to lucifer he likes more of the goth synth type stuff

would listen to like softcell (not sure if they're considered goth but i like them and i feel like he would so-) or she wants revenge

satan:

oh he's in love

has read about the human world goth subculture before and knows a lot about it but he definitely wants to talk to you and ask you about it personally

if you like reading gothic literature he's IN LOVE he would love to read it with you

would like more of the classic and melodic kinds of goth music

he probably wouldn't mind going to a goth club with you every once in a while

would be fine watching horror movies and stuff with you

he would 10000000% do the gomez and morticia arm kisses thing

he might let you try doing his hair and makeup every once in a while, wish he had longer hair and he'd remind me of sean brennan in the 80s when he had the long blonde teased up hair

i could see him listening to rosetta stone and london after midnight

#obey me #obey me shall we date #om! satan #obey me satan #om! lucifer #obey me lucifer #om! leviathan #om! mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me x male reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me mc #ankiebitez works

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alrmane · 2 months

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do you have any head canons for what it would’ve been like if jake, neytiri and tsutey were all mates? or the three of them with a male reader? atm i’m eating up a fic by @ ronwestbreeze !! but it’s a fem character and it’d be nice to see some rep for masc characters x neytiri, jake and tsutey

ofc! u know I got ur back bookie😘

also idk if these count as headcanons so lmk😭

(1/2 if u want an nsfw ver aswell)

w/ male reader

tsamsiyu - warrior

paywll - healing water plant

kelku - omatikaya home

tsakarem - tsahik in training

on humid summer days, after coming home from an unsuccessful hunt, all bruised and battered, bugs buzzing at your ears, one your beautiful mates neytiri would heal you graciously. she was tsakarem after all, taking a silky woven cloth, dampened in water from a paywll leaf to soothe your injuries. she was the most cautious out of the three. you hissed at the cold liquid on a warm cut, biceps tighting as you did so, pointing out angry veins.

however, when it came to tsu'tey, he was stricter, harsher, expecting you not to leave the already failing hunt to be healed. he frowned all the way back from the hunting site, to your kelku. he mumbled and grumbled about how a tsamsiyu should stick it out, and that tonights dinner for the entire clan relied on this hunting party. his usual rant being ignored by the healer, even as she walked over to him to scan his body for injuries, that he accepted begrudgingly. "they are trying their hardest, be grateful they accepted to join in the first place" she sighed.

neytiri was strict when it came to being cautious and mindful, tsu'tey was harsh when it came to meeting expectations and how you were viewed, but jake? nah, he just did his own thing; he payed no mind to the situation going on behind him, until he began sprawling out slowly on the beautifully woven mat half asleep and ungracefully, tongue curled like a stretching cat. he smacked his lips and turned towards all of you. "gudmornin' my beautiful mates", you all blushed, even tsu'tey who turned his head to hide it. suddenly everything felt mushy again.

later that night, you all kept warm on your sleeping pod, jake resting on your chest, neytiri on tsu'teys belly, tsutey on your upper arm, your and neytiri legs entangled, and jake and tsu'tey nuzzling heads. you all fought a long and vigorous war, starting off as enemies, and burdens, ending in life long partners. even though you all weren't perfect, and not everything could you have, a good thing you did have was this.

divider by plutism

also i be forgetting to check tumblr so sorry if this took long😭

#jake sully x reader #avatar #tsu’tey avatar #neytiri #jake sully #polyamory #avatar 2009 #male reader

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felixscoolcomfortblog · 3 months

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base lore (tw: extreme child neglect/abuse): after 4 years on the run, Will and Hannibal had found rest in a cozy rule community in Oregon where no one knew their faces. Hannibal made small talk and good company with the neighbors well will kept to himself, enjoying being back in a rustic environment. Hannibal had noticed one particular rude couple that was at all the local gatherings. snobbish and vain and already tried to show off to the locals who couldn't give two shits. Hannibal snooped around and heard though gossip that no one liked them and wish they would just move out.....well they could make that happen. Hannibal and will plan hunts regularly but haven't since they moved and settled. no one close had caught their eye and everyone on Hannibal's wheel where too far away. so to say they were eager to go hunting again was an understatement. after a gruesome hunt later, the two decided to wander and snoop around their home. a horrid minimalist Vila that ruined any natural view from the snowy mountains.. ...that's when they found child clothes. ratty and old. unwashed.....where where the kids??? these two NEVER mentioned or brought up having kids. was never seen with kids.....this completely blindsided the two and they felt the need to leave fast. as they carefully walked out the back door and into a more abandoned backward, left to be ruined as it covered in snow. will would spot a lone dog house in the corner of the yard....great a dog too....if he was careful, he could check and leave.... what he found wasn't a dog.....he found the kids. two girls. one around six with dark curls clinging and keeping a 4 year old with snowy blonde hair warm in a tattered blanket. the older one..... barked at him and started to cry, scared of the new adult. will was dumbfounded and his heart ached. he couldn't leave them here. they couldn't leave them here. he called Hannibal over and they both carefully and slowly got the two out and into their bloodied arms. the girls didn't seem to care after a while. the youngest still fast asleep and the other having relaxed and confused by the loving embarrass. it took a while, some discreet clothes shopping and getting back into contact with Chiyoh to baby sit but eventually the kids got used to giving in a warm, safe home. it was a struggle at times but they got used to it easier then expected. the two men had no idea what their names were so made a list of masc and fem names to give the 6 year old a choice then the three could rename the youngest together. the oldest didn't remember their name or refused to say it. they seemed very eager to get a new one. after being read the names a few dozen times, all rather fancy and complicated for the young kid to say, he eventually settled on Felix. it was easy and they were very fond of it. the men then asked if they were a boy or girl. they knew the answer biologically but wanted the kids answer "i don't know....i just like that name." well that settles that. they wouldn't pin any pronouns on Felix. they didn't seem like the type to care, as long as it wasn't stuffy. now into the little one. she was too young to have a say but felix really wanted to name her. despite not liking the really long stuffy names for themselves, they quickly picked the longest and stuffiest name on the lift for his sister: Florence, a name on there for obvious reasons. "sounds like...um...a princess name. and my sister is one!" was all the two men got out of Felix and they were overjoyed at the pick. it fit the little angel very well. the rest of the lore spittles out here. they get comfortable and become very happy kids. in some universes they are never caught, in most they are and are raised by Alana and Margot for a while till their dads break out again. Felix and Florence resents Alana for taking them away but only Felix is vocal about it. Florence has their papa's fake politeness.

Felix Lecter-Graham when found: 6 ages in timeline: 6-24 depending on where i like to think/write. gender: NB he/him likes: punk music, camping, wilderness, drawing, cartoons, junk food (don't tell Hannibal) dislikes: loud sudden noises, weird textures, being forced into a box, spicy food.

Felix is my main oc and the oldest of the two. spunky and outgoing but can be rather crude. supports their dads fully and tries not to care about others options. very protective of their sister and family. gets a lot of snarky rudeness from will but love of the arts from Hannibal. stubborn and refuses to see reason once in a thought path. spits in the faces of those who try to make them see reason and will very shamelessly joke about horrid acts. they have very little filter.

Florence Lecter-Graham when found: 4 ages in timeline: 4-22 (2 years younger then Felix) gender: she/her mainly feminine nb (only likes Felix calling them their sister. hates formal 'women' 'ma'am' 'lady' unless its from family) likes: flowers, classical music, overgrown gardens, also punk music, dislikes: big industrial cities, cars, very picky with food and isn't fond of meats (this was a struggle in the household. Hannibal had to change his cooking style a lot to please this baby. i see Florence going full vegetarian as an adult to avoid the texture issue all together. really enjoys blood though and that's the cannibal loop hole that pleases everyone.)

the sweeter and more "palatable" younger sister who fully gained her papa's sickly cocky politeness. shes just as snarky as Felix but would rather say things with a smile and a bow then outright an insult. loves her family just as much as Felix but tries to play along and agree with others around more antagonistic company. kill them with kindness is her method.

#hannibal #oc #self insert #hannigram #nbc hannibal #hannibal lecter #will graham

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musiclover2732 · 2 years

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so idk if i’m gonna be able to collect the new G3 Monster High dolls cuz that’s a lot of money and i need space to display them but here’s my list of the dolls we’ve seen leaked from top priority to least priority (i’m on mobile so unfortunately i can’t put this under a cut 😢)

Frankie Stein: i love the story of Frankenstein and i loved G1 Frankie but i felt like the design could have pulled more from the novel and the original Universal film. G3 Frankie delivers on that. the platform shoes are fangtastic and i love the nonbinary rep especially as someone who is nonbinary but often female presenting but masculine-leaning. they have an almost masc face compared to the “girl” dolls while still wearing cute blouses and skirts. and i think watzie is cuter than watzit 🤷

Draculaura: i’ve warmed up to her a lot since i was a kid since i went thru the character arc of liking pink again. this isn’t to say i didn’t like her since she was one of the few dolls i had two of (dead tired & ghouls rule drac, dead tired & dawn of the dance cleo, dead tired & dot dead gorgeous lagoona). i really love how she’s a modern ghoul who seems to take inspiration from goth/cottagecore tiktok which makes sense for an old teen vampire who wants to be trendy while still staying on brand for 1600 years. i also agree with many that she’s the best looking and best quality out of the leaks we’ve gotten.

Lagoona Pink: yeah she may not be blue anymore but i love this vibe for her and the pink is a lot less washed out (lol) than i was expecting. she looks like a tropical mermaid which is cute considering i heard she’s hispanic now! she was my fav as a kid and i lover her new design cuz it shows how you can be sport and feminine, but also not just all pink. i love that she comes with a swimsuit cuz that’s the closest thing we have to how Rainbow High dolls have a second outfit and she still has other cool accessories plus a wonky ass Neptuna that i love and would die for.

Cleo de Nile: the queen herself. love the blue hair, love the makeup (those lips with the gold!!), love her darker skin tone, love the molded mummy wraps and the inclusion of them more in her outfit than just an afterthought. her canopic jar is precious and somewhat disturbing (which is on brand for her lore) and her gyro has nostalgic vibes for me (regional thing for me personally). i wasn’t really vibing with her boots at first but now that i can see them more as mummy wraps they look so much better. also i appreciate that they replaced Hissette since she was a gift from Deuce and this Cleo isn’t dating him. it’s good attention to detail. and her new pet is very cute and better fitting for her character.

Clawdeen Wolf: i absolutely hated G1 Clawdeen because i always felt she was just a little too rude with her friends and very poorly dressed for a fashion designer. her clothes never really did it for me and even her Scaris doll (my fav outfit of hers from my fav movie about her) didn’t do much for me. this new ghoul however is checking all the boxes. she’s still confident and fierce but doesn’t tear others down to feel good but rather builds herself up. she has a much sportier style which makes sense for a werewolf. her whole outfit is something i would love to wear and the sneaker with the paw-print treads are exactly what a werewolf should wear. her molded tufts of fur are something that really bring in the werewolf look alongside her dog nose so she doesn’t just look like a person with wolf ears. obviously i am not a fan of the cheap ass hair especially after getting a Rainbow High doll (mattel what are y’all doing over there cutting corners on your main character) and the glasses still feel a little awkward to me cuz her ears are at the top of her head so they’re only holding onto sculpted fur (a simple solution would be if they were goggles or regular glasses with a strap).

Toralei Stripe: yes villain girl has a band. she was never my favorite and the probably poly hair doesn’t help but i do like her punk rock style and making her a singer is a really cool take after Boo York, Boo York: A Monsteriffic Musical. it makes sense that she’d be a good singer because of her copycat ability and she always had the punk rock look so it’s good to have a real reason for it this time. and Sweet Tooth is adorable. i’m into paleontology so having a saber tooth cat as a pet is awesome

overall i’m very happy about these new dolls. they’re very high quality for a play line doll. they come with a ton of accessories which are great for people who want to play with the dolls in fun and engaging ways rather than having a stand to display them plus they can stand on their own just fine. i would rather have tons of accessories to play around with, come up with scenarios and stories, and use in photography than a cheap piece of plastic to make them do something they already can that i could order for less online. i love the articulation in the dolls as i’m a huge fan and it’s kind of a must have for me since i enjoy realism and posing toys. it’s what drew me to the original line and made me dump barbie, plus mattel does it really well (their Indoraptor was my first buy from the Jurassic World line and their Jurassic Park Hammond Collection is on my radar). i also love the added articulation at the torso cuz that’s something many dolls lack. they also have the varying body types which makes much more sense for a character based doll line. hot take but i prefer these dolls over the originals and i’m glad i cleared those out and will be trying to add as many of these as possible to my collection!

#thinking about getting a job and waiting for the post christmas sales #and buying more shelves #frankie stein #draculaura #lagoona blue #cleo de nile #clawdeen wolf #toralei stripe #monster high #monster high gen 3 #my opinion #doll collector #long post

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infjsnightmare · 3 years

Text

Wedding Aesthetics: Chuuya

A/N: Finally got around to writing another one of these! Chuuya's wedding is going to pull out all the stops! This man is going to make sure his S/O and himself feel like goddamn celebrities on their wedding day. Chuuya is picking red and gold for his wedding colors. Red is a color of passion and love and wine. Gold is opulence and luxury, and he is going to make sure his S/O feels like a million bucks every single day. He would go with traditional wedding vows, but his eyes would be basically piercing into his S/O's soul as he said them, a passionate fire in them that is hard to miss. His S/O would probably burn themselves trying to match his desire.

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If his S/O is fem: Chuuya is trying to show off his S/O on their wedding day. He wants everyone to know how sexy they are and that they are HIS. He would want a fem S/O in something sexy, form fitting and it is probably ridiculously expensive. She would be stunning and he wants her to feel absolutely confident in herself. Since he wants it form fitting, it would either be a fit and flare or mermaid style dress. Gold or pearl beaded details mixed with lace draw all the eyes to her. Chuuya is a passionate man and I think he would absolutely love a plunging neckline on his S/O, but he is also a jealous man and his S/O probably kept that detail of the dress a secret until the big day. His face is scarlet and matches his hair when he first sees her at the alter.

If his S/O is masc: Chuuya would like his S/O in gold and white so that he, himself, can wear red. His S/O tux will be well-tailored to their body with gold accents for them to look like the pair they are. Again, he wants sexy, confident and luxurious. Visually he likes small details added to the tux so his eyes can explore around his husband's body; gold buttons, intricate cufflinks, pocket detailing. He knows how attractive his husband is and so will everyone else.

Chuuya's Clothes: We all know Chuuya has style and his wedding day is no exception. He'll have his hat off for the ceremony, but it is coming right back for the reception. Chuuya will be in red. It's a color he knows he looks good in and that will play up his cerulean eyes. He'll want something tapered and fitted, which helps him look taller. He'd go with a deep maroon or burgundy shade of red, so that he doesn't stand out too much, but he wants to be as equally impressive as his S/O. He would make sure certain details are gold to match his S/O, like his tie, buttons and lapel chain. He also went to get mani-pedi with his S/O the day before the wedding and got both of their hair professionally done for the occasion. They will look like the power couple that they are.

Bouquet/Boutonniere: Chuuya is going for passion, romance, and red. What would be better than roses for that? I also think roses are something that Chuuya would have been giving his S/O for a long time, so it would also be a staple to their relationship. He and his S/O might have even saved some of the dried roses from throughout their relationship and used them as the flower petals for the walkway. He wants his S/O's bouquet to have a tone of volume and he loves the dramatic effect a cascading bouquet gives. The boutonnieres would have matching gold accents in keeping with their theme and if his S/O is masc, they would have more roses on their boutonniere than on Chuuya's.

The Rings: If anyone can pick out a red and gold ring that still looks stylish, it's Chuuya. He picked out an expensive ring that compliments his style as well as his S/O. He likes the designs that loop around each other. It reminds him of how he and his S/O hold each other when their at their worst and even after his hot temper gets the better of him, they always find their way back to each other. He is grateful for how his S/O makes him feel like he belongs.

The Venue: Chuuya wants his S/O to have an amazing view on their wedding. He would love to have something overlooking the see, making them feel like they are on top of the world. I also think he would like the big windows and the idea that onlookers could marvel at his S/O but they're separated so they couldn't come and interrupt their day. It's doubtful that any onlooker would ever try though, since the mafia will be there, especially with Mori himself in attendance. Everyone who is supposed to be there, will be well-protected. I think Chuuya would like a high-end venue, but he would definitely read all the reviews beforehand to make sure that everything would be as he expected. Honestly, only the best for his S/O.

The Decorations: Dramatic and Romantic. That's the vibe Chuuya wants for his wedding day. Rose petals will be scattered all over. There WILL be red wine fountains and dark chocolate fountains at the reception. And not just any red wine fountain. He is having it custom made to be similar to the free wine fountain in Italy. He wants the guests to have the most memorable experience. No other wedding will compare to his S/O wedding. I think he would like dim lighting but with lots of candlelight at each table, illuminating his S/O face in a warm golden glow.

The Wedding Cake: What Chuuya lacks in height he makes up for in cake. He will get an extremely tall cake with a lot of layers. He can't have the other decorations overshadowing it, so it will be placed in a central area where everyone can see him and his S/O during the cake cutting. He will go with whatever flavor is his S/O's favorite since he cares more about them having the time of their life than about his own tastes. He will make sure that the cake is cleanly decorated and not too gaudy. Again, he wants roses to be everywhere possible, so they will show up on the cake too.

After the Wedding: Chuuya is riding off with his S/O the back of his motorcycle to grab their bags and head to the airport. Tachihara wanted to attach wine bottles to the back of Chuuya's bike, but was stopped by Kouyou, who instead tied beautiful gold and red ribbons along the handles and a few other places. Chuuya didn't tell his S/O where they would be headed, opting to keep it a surprise, but they are headed to the French Riviera to have a week full of romance and each other. Chuuya also brought along their handheld games for the days when his S/O felt like staying in and just playing against him.

#chuuya wedding headcanons #chuuya bsd #wedding headcanons #aesthetic

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ghoste-catte · 3 years

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I absolutely adore how you write kankuro.💕 Could you bless us with some random headcanons for him? ☺️

ALWAYS excited to talk about my favorite boy!!!

Kankuro has 0 brain-to-mouth filter. None whatsoever. People think Gaara is blunt and rude? At least Gaara is trying. Kankuro is 100 times worse. He gets away with it a little bit because he says everything with a slightly sarcastic tone, so sometimes people can brush it off like he’s joking (He’s not. He means it.) Part of why the shinobi corps like him so much (and part of why some of them think he should be Kazekage) is because they think he’s “brutally honest” and “plain-talking”, but in actuality he’s “kind of a dick”. (Also he wouldn’t last 10 minutes in the verbal sparring session that is a Suna Council meeting. He’d be much more likely to start hollering at all the old geezers and upend the table with his chakra threads.)

He has an absolutely nasty temper in a fight but is less likely to go hands-on than he is to posture and say something vicious he’ll later regret. He’s much more a poke-at-the-other-guy-and-see-if-he’ll-bite fighter, the sort of person who would play ‘I’m not touching you’ as a kid to see if they could get the other person to hit first. He’s got a hell of a lot of patience with this technique. His and Temari’s verbal battles are legendary, and it’s often Gaara who has to intervene and tell them to go fight it out on the practice field to get the negative energy out. Temari is much more likely to hit him than he is to hit her.

His greatest fear is something happening to Gaara or Temari when he isn’t there to protect them. That’s why he’d rather be Gaara’s personal bodyguard than take any other high-status position he could rightfully have. When Temari requested permission to move to Konoha, he was actually the biggest hold-out--not because he didn’t want her to be happy, but because he was worried about her safety. He resented Shikamaru for a long time because he felt like Shikamaru took his sister from his protection, and only warmed up to him after a very minor scuffle where he saw Shikamaru throw himself in Temari’s way to protect her.

He has better-than-average eyesight (good news for working with all those fiddly screws and tools), but when he gets older he ends up needing bifocals from long-term eye strain (working in his dank little basement room all the time) ... which he resists until the very last moment because he’s vain. This ends up making him even more reclusive and secretive when he’s working on his puppets.

He does remember their mother, but he lies and tells Temari he doesn’t, because the only memory he has is of her crying.

I hadn’t really considered this before I got into a discussion about him yesterday, but Kankuro has major trans vibes to me. He basically wears a full-body dysphoria hoodie every day of his life from puberty onward. When he’s young, the fact that he looks like his dad is something he’s really proud of (until he realizes what an asshole Rasa is and decides he doesn’t want to be associated with him anymore). He picks puppeteering as his art because of the clothing and because the paint lets him both masculinize and anonymize his features. Likewise with his manner of speech, the movie tough guy talk makes his speech feel more masc. I also think he sees himself as a straight guy for most of his teenage/young adult life--partly because he feels like that’s How Guys Should Be--until he’s like. Oops. This is no longer on a bro level anymore. (I can pretty much ship him with anyone who’s around his age and unrelated to him, lol. You could sell me on him working with most people. Except maybe Sasuke?)

This is really @egregiousderp‘s headcanon, but I’m gonna mention it because it’s really good. He and Temari were trained from a very young age to be able to take down Gaara, and his puppets have chakra seals in their bodies for that reason. That’s also why he and Temari are such unusually skilled and advanced shinobi for their ages.

He loves kids, but only on a fun uncle level. He wouldn’t want the responsibility of them on his own. He initially didn’t want a genin team, either, but Gaara assigned him one because Kankuro was getting into a late-twenties slump and griping about becoming an old man. Gaara’s logic was that having the kiddos around would make him feel young again. It didn’t really work, but Kankuro does really like being a "cool sensei”. (The kids don’t think of him as a cool sensei, but HE thinks of himself as a cool sensei and that’s all that matters.)

Being Gaara’s bodyguard is a pretty boring job, but Kankuro has stashes of all sorts of weird shit shoved into nooks and crannies all over Suna. Puppet parts, toys, poison ingredients, comic books, little travel-size drink bottles and snacks. This also means he knows every excellent hiding place for a trap or weapon, and he can tell easily if an area’s been tampered with or disturbed.

He sucks at talking about his feelings. If he’s feeling upset, he’s much more likely to retreat into his dark basement alone. The avoidance doesn’t necessarily help him feel better, but he does come up with his most devious mechanisms and poison techniques in this state, and successfully completing the task sometimes tends to snap him out of his funk. Temari was the only one who would go down and try to coax him out of his crummy little dungeon, and after she moved out, he was basically down in there 24/7 unless he was at work. Gaara eventually wrote Temari a letter and she had to tell Gaara to go in after him and pull him out, because he won’t come out on his own.

So there you go! Ten headcanons about my favorite dude.

#answered #anonymous #headcanons #kankuro #naruto #Anonymous

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thefixergone · 2 years

Text

social presentation and conduct , repost don’t reblog . bold for always . italics for sometimes . hyperlink for circumstantial . strike for never or not applicable .

how they introduce themselves in relaxed social settings : it 100% depends on the situation and environment . but almost always introduces herself as one of he alias’ . unless she trusts you then it’s just a warm little smile or a big hug . she can either be warm and inviting or completely put off by someone’s presence . often she finds herself wanting to be alone , and will let someone know when she does . she isn’t an easy person to be around with , even if it is considered a ‘ relaxed ’ situation .

how they introduce themselves in a formal / professional setting : professional , guarded but also respectful . since most don’t know her real name or identity , she professional goes by the fixer . formally she can either introduce herself as mia ( for those she trusts ) or as one of her alias’ . but again , totally depends !

when meeting new people : warm. cold. guarded. welcoming. friendly. rigid. skeptical. judgemental. chatty. shy. timid. outgoing. easily initiates conversation. waits for someone else to begin conversation. closed-off. intimidating. approachable. cheerful. internally wary. externally wary. small talk. eager to become personable. avoids overly personal topics and questions. likes meeting new people. neutral about meeting new people. anxious when meeting new people. dislikes meeting new people.

in crowded social settings : social butterfly. wallflower. stays close to those they know. willing to branch out on their own. comfortable. thriving. anxious. wary. hyper-vigilant. observant. self-absorbed. attentive. distracted. disassociates. overwhelmed easily. extroverted. introverted. ambivert. people watches. inclusive. exclusive. hospitable. unapproachable. charismatic. purposefully attracts attention to themselves. unintentionally attracts attention to themselves. charmingly awkward. uncomfortable awkward. suave. unassuming. pretentious. code-switching.

conversational conduct : attentive. distractible. dominates. listens. well-balanced. shares. withholds. keeps focus on the other. likes to keep focus on themselves. tries to keep a balanced exchange of attention. opens up easily. avoids vulnerability. encourages vulnerability in others. uncomfortable with displays of vulnerability. rambles. concise. wordy. swears casually. swears conservatively. never swears. descriptive. vague. blunt. flowery. analogies. wandering topics. stays on topic. meandering. focused. tangents. reserved. poised expressive. easily ends interaction. finds ways to continue interaction. lingers until the other indicates they’re done. anxious to fill silence. comfortable with silence.

if your muse is neurodivergent how do they appear masked vs unmasked : n / a .

fashion presentation : colorful. muted. neutrals. neons. pastels. academic. office. business casual. casual. business formal. camp. conservative. sensual. bright. dark. frilly. form-fitting. sombre. plain. whimsical. rigid. monochromatic. light academia. dark academia. alternative. goth. punk. grunge. pastel goth. boho. ethnic traditional. modernized traditional. glamourous. elegant. experimental. vintage. artsy. chic. follows trends. doesn’t pay attention to trends. vibrant. practical. sporty. androgynous. femme. masc.

what is a typical outfit for your muse : warm and earthy colors , black clothing , vintage pieces ( ie : her vintage leather jacket ) , jeans - likely high waisted with a leather belt , a teeshirt or blouse ... one preferably with an interesting design . boots or converse’s or even vans .

when others need comfort they : if it’s someone she cares about then she 100% goes to comfort them . mia is naturally a caregiver and very attentive / affectionate . of course she always asks ahead of time if they want to be touched ( because sometimes people need the comfort , but without the touch lol - and she wants to respect that . ) she’d offer distractions , she mostly goes by what the other person is visually and vaguely showing to her .

when they need comfort : ugh , it totally depends . again she isn’t an easy person to be around with , so you can only imagine if you’re actually with her . seeking comfort can be fickle with her , it takes time for her to trust someone enough to actually seek someone out for comfort . she goes through a phase of keeping things to herself , which of course leads to it festering and then she just becomes overwhelmed . seeking comfort form someone else can be seen as a weakness , it’s something that is engrained in her because of the way she is trained . but once she get’s through the shit , she easily will ask someone for help .

typical disposition and demeanor of your muse : off the bat , mia can be quite the intimidating person . she’s stoic and dangerous - looks like she can kill you with a spoon ( and she could . ) there’s a part of mia that watches the room , when she meets someone new - she’s already searching for your weak points . she’s reading your body to see who you really are . mia is a rebellious and often vulgar woman , with a very obvious ‘ i don’t give a shit ’ attitude . also she gives off a very mysterious vibe as well , to compliment the dangerous aura she exudes . if she’s friendly with you , cares about you / is close to you : it’s the complete opposite . she can be goofy , playful and very mischievous .

tagged by : @mahdena , my absolute loml , thank you !

tagging : @parieur / @banschivs / @jokethur / @batfall / @barnaes / @vendicarus / @plnkladies ( any1 of ur muses <3 ) and anyone else who wants to do the thing !

#boops this on dash ~#* out of character ‚ dash game .

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rainwolfheart · 3 years

Note

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.”

#da drunk writing circle #dragon age #nanders #nathaniel/anders #dadwc #my fic

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mrpatrouiousachatz1993 · 4 years

Text

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.

#transgender #genderqueer #genderfluid #gender nonconforming #gender non binary #cisgender #gender expression #agender #trans man #trans woman #trans children #education #protect trans kids

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clareguilty · 4 years

Text

Charles/Javier/Reader Fic

Read it here on AO3 Rating: General | No Warnings (reader is gender neutral but masc) Word Count: ~4500

"I know, old girl," you patted your horse reassuringly as she let out a worried snort. "We'll find them soon."

The sun was sinking over the Grizzlies, and Flat Iron Lake was turning from purple to inky black as you carefully made your way along the shore.

You knew how important it was that camp remained well hidden, but you had hoped that you would at least be able to find the gang with nothing but Mary-Beth's letter to go off of.

Dearest Cousin,

The weather is growing too hot here now that spring is in full bloom, so we've decided to move somewhere cooler. Your uncle has found a great place for us to pass the season right on the shore of Flat Iron Lake, not too far from Rhodes. Just head East from town. Come visit us as soon as you get the chance, the whole family can't wait to see you again. I hope this letter finds you well.

Warm regards, Leslie Dupont

P.S. We passed through Valentine. It is a disgusting and rotten town, and the sheriff is very unhelpful.

The girl was clever. She had sent you the location of the new hideout without giving away anything else about the gang in case the letter fell into the wrong hands. You had guessed that the law had caught up with them around Valentine, and that the sheriff was on the lookout for any trouble. You had no need to go back there anyways. The past few weeks, you had been working a job at Emerald Ranch.

It was your first real job. Your first time being out on your own since you joined the gang. The freedom and independence meant a lot to you, not to mention the fact that Dutch trusted you enough to send you out on your own. You were tired of feeling like dead weight, and this was your chance to prove yourself. Hosea had set everything up for you, and you had gone undercover as a ranch hand for nearly a month as you gathered information and put all the pieces in place that allowed you to steal away in the dead of night with $800 and a satchel full of valuables.

But that $800 dollars would never make it into Dutch’s hands if you couldn’t find the goddamned camp. It was getting dark, and that wouldn’t help you any.

Or would it?

As the sun disappeared behind the mountains, you noticed a flicker of light through the trees. That fire had better belong to the gang.

You picked your way through the thinning trees, stumbling upon a pack of familiar horses.

“Oh, thank god,” you hitched your old girl and stripped her of as much tack as possible before striding determinedly towards a familiar white tent.

Arthur looked up from his journal as you passed his cot. “You’re back!” he grinned, pushing to his feet to follow after you. “Did you get on alright?”

“Yeah. Everything was fine for once.” You made your way to where Dutch was sitting. A few other gang members had noticed your arrival and were heading over to meet you.

Dutch greeted you with open arms and a boisterous cheer. “How great it is to see you,” he pulled you in for a chaste embrace.

You pushed your stuffed satchel into his arms. His grin widened as he hefted it, feeling the sheer weight of your score. He shot you a look of pure admiration. “You’re always so good for me.”

You flushed and smiled. Dutch was kind, and he cared for you. It felt good to be home.

A hand closed over your shoulder and you turned to see Hosea smiling just as wide. "Thanks for setting up that job for me," you clasped your hand over his.

"I should be thanking you for bringing my ideas to glorious fruition," the older man grinned. "You did good."

It was the warmest welcome you could imagine. A celebration was quickly under way, rejoicing at your return as well as the money you brought with you.

"You must be tired," Susan flitted over, "let me show you where we've got you set up." She led you to a spot by the fire. Your bedroll was laid out among the others, but that was all you could see.

"Where's my trunk?" You asked, unstrapping your gear and setting it neatly nearby.

Susan's brow creased. "It should be right over here. I had them unload all of your stuff already."

You circled the tent. Swanson's, Charles', and Javier's trunks were all neatly lined up, but no sign of yours. "It's not here."

"I'll have Bill double check the wagons. He was the one responsible for picking up your things." She strode off, and you wanted to feel sorry for poor Bill. Susan was a force to be reckoned with. But you couldn't muster up any sympathy at the moment; you wanted your trunk.

The sharp cadence of Susan's voice could be heard as you grabbed a beer and settled in by the fire. Uncle had pulled out his banjo, and Pearson was on the accordion, leading Sean and Lenny in a drunken and out of tune rendition of some old navy song.

You watched as Bill lumbered over to the wagons, peering in each one. He grew more and more frustrated as you watched him. At last, he threw his hands up and returned to where Susan and Dutch were sitting. You made your way over there as well.

"-must have gotten lost somewhere along the way," Bill was saying. "I swear I loaded everything up."

"Where's my trunk," you demanded.

The three of them turned to you. None of their expressions showed any promise.

Bill was the first to own up. "I promise you I packed it before we left Horseshoe Overlook. I don't know what happened, but I can't find it."

"My clothes are in there. My things are in there."

"I know," Dutch attempted to placate you. "We'll keep looking for it. I'm sure your things will turn up."

"I want my clothes," you were growing angry now. You had more than just your clothes in that trunk: a bottle of nice brandy, a bag of coins, and some jewelry you had stolen from some asshat in Strawberry, but Dutch didn't need to know about any of that. You had worked your ass off for weeks only to come back and find all of your things were missing. Not to mention you had to leave your spare shirts behind at Emerald Ranch to make room for everything you had stolen.

"We'll find them," Dutch raised his hand, "and if not, I'll set aside some of your most recent score so you can replace what you lost."

You took a step forward, glancing wildly between the three of them. "I just rode all the way from Emerald goddamn Ranch, stumbling through the woods to find this place. All I want is a clean shirt and a night of rest, but what do I find? My things are gone."

You could hear the camp fall silent around you, watching your outburst as you jabbed a finger into Bill's broad chest.

Heavy footsteps approached from behind you and large, warm hands closed around your shoulders, pulling you back a respectable distance. "Easy, Little Bear," Charles was grinning; you could hear it in his voice. "Let's wash what you've got on and hang it to dry overnight. You can borrow some of my clothes in the meantime."

You acquiesced, knowing it was useless to try and argue with Charles. He was more level-headed than you and always so damn reasonable. He steered you away from Dutch and Bill, towards the shore of the lake where the water lapped gently against the muddy bank.

"Your clothes will be too big on me," you complained. Charles was easily twice your size.

"Yes, but they'll be clean." He pointed a warning finger at you, a silent command to stay still while he went to grab something for you to change into.

You sulked and stared out over the water, watching stray boats drift across the horizon. Charles returned, a bundle of familiar fabric draped over his arm. You recognized his blue button down.

"Wash up and get changed. I'll help you wash your things." He handed you the clothes.

The polite thing to do would have been to turn him down; you could wash your own clothes. Instead you stepped behind the wagon, stripped out of your things, and tossed them in the general direction of Charles. He didn't say anything, but you heard his footsteps retreating towards the wash basin.

You waded into the lake. The water was still warm in the shallows, heated from the afternoon sun. The mud was soft and cool beneath your bare feet, squishing between your toes until it dropped off into cold darkness. You swam out a few yards, scrubbing through your hair as best you could and trying to rub all of the Heartlands' dust from your skin.

The quiet of the lake was soothing, and you floated in the water until your fingers wrinkled and pruned. Finally, you waded to shore, drying off with a spare cloth before pulling on the clothes Charles lent you.

He was right; they were clean, and soft, and they smelled good. Charles must have stored herbs with his things because everything smelled like oregano and mint and thyme and leather.

They were also far too large on you. You rolled the sleeves up as far as you could and resorted to simply tying the bottom hem at your hips to keep the shirt from reaching to your knees. You rolled the pants to your ankles, working your belt through the loops with only a little difficulty.

You spotted Charles hanging your things out to dry. He looked you up and down as you approached.

"I look ridiculous," you groaned, helping him pin your trousers to the line. He made a soft sound, but didn't say anything.

"Thanks for loaning me some clothes," you placed a hand on his arm as the two of you walked back towards the fire.

"It's nothing," Charles shrugged. He passed you a beer and steered you towards the fire where Sean was giving a slurred, impassioned speech about what you assumed to be the beauty of a woman's breasts. You took your seat, waving off any comment about the fact that you were drowning in Charles' clothes.

The party continued on even as you laid down for the night. The younger men carried on and on without any care, much to everyone else's annoyance as things refused to quiet down.

Just as you fell asleep, you thought you heard the distant rumble of thunder, but that might have just been Uncle snoring.

It was thunder.

You woke to a sheet of rain coming out of nowhere, jolting you awake as well as Javier next to you. Thunder rang out over the water and the wind began to pick up more quickly than you could understand.

Javier cursed and began grabbing anything he didn't want to get soaked, dashing for the nearest wagon. A flash of lightning broke you out of your stupor and you jumped to your feet.

"My clothes," you whined. You ran to the line where Charles had hung them, but it was empty. The wind had taken everything. Not even the pins remained. "Aw, shit," you cursed, stomping in the mud.

Camp was in a state of chaos behind you. No one had anticipated the rain and people were running left and right to try and keep the storm from causing too much damage. The girls were all huddled in John's tent, sheltering Jack as best they could. Hosea and Lenny were trying to keep the ammunition dry, pulling a waxed tarp over the crates. It was a surprise the gang had dealt with many times before. Rain was nothing but an inconvenience.

Charles found you staring wistfully at the empty clothesline.

"They're gone," you said lamely.

"I'm sorry. I should have seen the storm coming," he tried to pull you at least under the bough of the tree so you weren't standing under the downpour.

"It's not your fault." You shook your head.

"Come on," he tried again to usher you towards some shelter, "there's no need to stand out in the storm." You followed along begrudgingly, settling in across from Javier in one of the covered wagons.

The storm passed, and everything was mostly dry by the next evening. You were now stuck in Charles' clothes indefinitely. Sean and John wasted no time in teasing you. You looked ridiculous.

"Please, Dutch," you begged, "just let me go into town and buy some clothes. I'll head straight to the general store and nowhere else."

"I'm sorry," he shook his head. "Our presence, or lack thereof, in this town is of the utmost importance. We have an in with this Sheriff Gray and his family, and I'm not going to risk it for anything."

You stormed off, throwing your hands up in disbelief. Sadie shot you a look that could only be described as commiserating. She was in the same boat as you, forced to remain in camp until someone decided to escort her to town.

Javier waved you over before you could get too far. He must have sensed your plan to steal away into town without anyone noticing, because he forced you to go out fishing with him on the lake.

You let him row the boat out onto the water, too petulant to even take your rod out for the first 20 minutes. Javier was unfazed. He baited his hook and cast his line like you weren't even there.

You eventually gave in and cast your line beside his, bringing in a few small bluegill while Javier managed to hook a bass. "Not bad," he clapped you on the back. "Much better than Arthur."

The compliment made you feel better, and you offered to row back to shore.

Charles was waiting for your return. He took the bass from Javier and told you to give the bluegill to Pearson.

"This can be our dinner tonight," Javier grinned. "We catch it, he cooks it."

You had no objections to that, following the two of them over to one of the smaller fires where Charles immediately set to work preparing the fish.

"You know," Javier spoke up, "you can borrow some of my clothes if you need to. They'd probably fit better, and we all know I'm the best dressed one around here."

Charles didn't appear to take any offense to the suggestion, so you grinned at Javier. "Thanks for the offer. I can't believe Dutch won't even let me go into town."

The three of you shared a meal of fish and mushrooms. Javier and Charles were easy to be around, and they never hesitated to put another serving on your plate. You envied the easy familiarity between them, the soft touches and gentle smiles they exchanged. They had a bond stronger than any men you had known before, and you enjoyed this invitation into their comfort and intimacy.

Another sunrise, another day of Dutch refusing to let you go into town. Fed up with his nonsense, you wandered over to where the O'Driscoll boy was resting among the horses.

He was eager to help, especially since he didn't know you were going against Dutch's orders. He helped you saddle up one of the Morgan horses, cooing to the beast as you mounted up and slipped quietly into the forest.

You pushed north until you broke the treeline, and then turned west towards the road. It was a straight shot to Rhodes from there. Sure, you looked ridiculous in Charles' oversized clothes but you weren't going to let that stop you. You could change once you got to the general store and then everything would be right as rain.

Except you didn't even make it to the general store. You were hardly at the edge of the farmlands before the thunder of hooves sounded behind you. Your pistol was in your hand before you had even turned.

Charles and Javier were gaining on you, and this borrowed Morgan would never be able to outrun them. You let out a groan of frustration, rearing to a stop and giving up before the men had even reached you.

They overtook you on either side. Charles scooped you up in one arm and deposited you onto Taima in front of him. Javier rounded up the poor horse you had borrowed from the O'Driscoll and began leading it back to camp.

"Little Bear, what were you thinking?" Charles was scolding you. "You're in Dutch's good graces after that job at Emerald Ranch, would you really want to ruin that by defying him?" You slumped forward. Charles threw an arm around your chest to keep you upright. "I don't understand why you can't just be patient. Javier and I can look out for you until Dutch says it's okay to go into town." He was right, but you certainly weren't satisfied with it.

You let them sneak you back into camp. For the rest of the night, neither one let you out of their sight. Whenever you strayed too far from the gang, Javier was there, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms.

Even more embarrassing, Charles moved his bedroll to be on the other side of you. You were trapped between him and Javier with no way of sneaking out in the night. Despite your frustration, you felt safe between them.

The days wore on with no chance of going into Rhodes. Javier took great pleasure in dressing you up, forcing a multitude of accessories on you and laughing to himself as he made you look 'proper.'

Arthur and John stood by with amused smiles on their faces, snickering every so often. You glared at them, but you doubt the expression carried any weight when you looked like a goddamned fool.

"They're just jealous that they can't look this good," Javier scoffed. "Let me comb out your hair."

If you thought you looked ridiculous in Charles' oversized clothes, you felt like a clown in Javier's. Sean and Uncle began to lay into you instantly, and you quickly grew too irritated to be around them.

The girls were the only ones who had anything nice to say about how you were dressed, but they turned all of their compliments to Javier and his impeccable sense of style. You were nothing more than a pretty doll for them to look at.

"You look fine," Charles assured you. "Javier’s look suits you. Maybe you should consider adding a waistcoat to your new wardrobe."

You rolled your eyes at the suggestion, but he didn't miss the way your hands smoothed over the fabric. You were considering it.

Javier followed you around constantly, showering you with praise that was really just him complimenting his own work.

"If you don't cut it out I'm going to take this off right now and throw it in the lake," you turned on him.

"But then what will you wear?" Javier countered.

"I'll borrow something of Arthur's," you waved a hand to where the older outlaw was scribbling in his journal.

"Huh? Me? Why can't you wear John's stuff?" Arthur immediately shot you down.

"Because none of Marston's stuff is ever clean," you said. Arthur and Javier both nodded in agreement at that. Marston was always filthy, and his clothes were worn and threadbare.

Remembering the true source of your anger, you turned towards Dutch's tent, fury in your eyes. None of this would be an issue if the bastard would just let you go into town. Javier quickly stepped in front of you, seeing how poorly this could end.

"Hey, hey -- easy, Osito," he backed you up a few steps, "just wear my stuff for a few days. I promise we'll get you something soon."

Ignoring Javier, you took a step toward Dutch’s tent. His arms locked around your chest and shoulders and he began dragging you away. “Dios mio,” he muttered under his breath, “Te amo, pero puedes ser mucho.”

You had no clue what he was saying, but you didn’t care unless he was taking you into Rhodes. Javier dragged you up the hill, past the horses and into the trees. You didn’t fight him, but you certainly didn’t make it easy on him. He dropped you in the leaves once you were you of sight of camp.

“What’s your problem, huh?” he demanded. “Dutch gives you one order -- una orden -- and you have to fight him at every turn? He has a job lined up for us. You can’t jeopardize that. Why can’t you just wait until he gives you permission to go into town?”

Javier’s scolding made your blood boil. You pushed to your knees, staring up at him. “He’s being ridiculous. Even you have to see that. I’ve lost everything. I hate being so dependent on everyone for everything all the time, and now I don’t even own the clothes off my back. I just want to have something of my own again.”

Javier opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the approach of someone else. You both turned to see Charles; he had probably heard everything. He walked straight towards you, helping you to your feet. You glanced between him and Javier.

“I understand you’re upset,” Charles spoke first. “You lost more than just your clothes in that trunk. Was there anything important?”

You looked to your boots. Charles wouldn’t tell Dutch that you were hiding money from him, but you weren’t as sure about Javier. Sighing, you spoke up. “A bottle of brandy -- the good stuff. Some jewelry I had stolen. A, uh, a bag of coins. Those don’t really matter thought, they can all be replaced. There were some letters from my mother -- heirlooms and things too. I can’t get those back.” You kicked at the underbrush.

“I’m sorry,” Charles smoothed a hand over your hair.

“Sorry won’t bring them back,” you hated that you couldn’t stop fighting. You didn’t want to argue.

“Can you do something for me, Little Bear?” Charles gently nudged your chin with his thumb and you looked up at him. Against your instincts, you nodded. As much as you wanted to take care of things yourself, it would be better to trust Charles. “Can you wait three more days?”

You frowned and turned to Javier, eyes pleading. He just shrugged and shook his head. This was between you and Charles.

“Three days,” you agreed. “After that, I’m doing things my way.”

Charles nodded.

The next morning, he was gone. You searched all over camp, but you knew he was nowhere to be found; Taima was missing as well. Several other horses were missing as well, The Count and Silver Dollar were nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Charles?” you asked Arthur.

“No clue. He left before I woke up this morning. Must be riding out pretty far, I reckon.”

You were tempted to break your promise. Who knew when Charles would be back? Three days was nothing. He likely wouldn't be back until next week. No one would notice or care if you left camp now.

Except Javier. Loyal Javier, who had watched you give your word to Charles. Javier, who was letting you borrow his clothes. You couldn’t do that to him.

So you dug in and did your chores, helped cook and clean and sew, always one ear to the ground for any word from Dutch or Charles. Damn that van der Linde and all his planning. You just wanted to be reckless for once, to run in without thinking. What did it matter, all these Grays and Braithewaites?

Night fell on the third day, and you slumped into the seat next to Javier. He threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “Don’t worry,” he grinned. “Things will start looking up again soon.”

“Whatever,” you sighed, but Javier made a satisfied sound next to you. You narrowed your eyes and pointed a finger at his chest, “You know something, don’t you?”

“Who? Me?” Javier laughed, “I am not in the habit of knowing things.”

You knew you would never get a straight answer out of him, so you leaned into his side and watched the flames lick up towards the sky. You dozed off without meaning to, unsure if you imagined the feeling of Javier’s lips brushing against your forehead.

The sound of an approaching horse woke you. Someone had returned to camp.

Taima’s white flank shone in the moonlight and you raced to meet Charles as he dismounted. He scooped you into his arms, spinning you around before setting you on your feet. You couldn’t help but match his wide smile.

“I’ve brought you something,” he retrieved a rather bulky parcel from his saddlebags. “Let’s move closer to the fire.”

You tore open the twine and paper, running your fingers over the soft fabric inside. “You didn’t…” you held up the shirt in the firelight. It was nicer than anything you had owned before, and it must have cost a fortune.

“I spoke to Dutch, and he agreed to let me ride to the tailor’s in Saint Denis. You should thank him when you get the chance.”

You didn’t think Dutch deserved any thanks for all his ridiculous impositions, but you threw your arms around Charles’ neck. It was one of the kindest things anyone had ever done for you.

“There’s more,” he turned you back to the parcel. “I’m sure Javier wants to see them as well.”

You held up each item, letting both men feel the fabrics and admire the craftsmanship. There were shirts, trousers, a jacket, and even a tie. When you reached the last item, you let out a bark of laughter. It was a waistcoat, not unlike the one Javier had leant you.

“Muy hermoso,” he nodded in approval. “You’ll look almost as good as me.”

You rewrapped the items and tucked them next to your bedroll.

“You don’t want to change right now?” Charles raised an eyebrow. You were in his shirt and Javier’s pants. They were comfortable and worn.

“It can wait until tomorrow,” you shrugged. "Thank you… for taking care of me," you stared at the bottle in your hands. "I know I've been difficult to handle."

"You would do the same for us," Charles smoothed a hand over your hair.

"There's one more thing," Javier shot you a coyote grin. He reached into his own pack and pulled out a bottle. The firelight caught in the glass and glowed amber. "The good stuff," he passed it to you. It was brandy, nicer than the bottle you had lost.

You hugged him tight, uncapping the bottle and taking a drink before offering it to Javier. He drank and passed the bottle to Charles. It was some of the smoothest, sweetest liquor you had tasted.

#Charles Smith #charles smith/reader #Javier Escuella #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella/reader #charles smith x reader #charles smith/javier escuella/reader #fic #rdr2

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rustybutterknife · 4 years

Note

Trans masc beetlejuice angst?

Not gonna lie, this made me dysphoric to write.

Tw: shark week, blood mentions, dysphoria, whatever else you guys ask to tag

So as a kid, he didn’t feel right. He hated his name, his body, he felt more comfortable doing things like a boy would.

It took him awhile to figure out why his chest and hips and soft face felt so god damn wrong.

He came out to Juno when he was about 14 in human years. Things were thrown, she screamed at him and called him slurs. It wasn’t very nice.

Even after going on T, changing his legal name (in the netherworld), and having top surgery, she still isn’t having it.

The scene after Beetlejuice gets vibe checked is the first time that Juno calls him Lawrence because it would take explaining and she didn’t wanna do that, also it would be awkward because he has a whole ass beard.

A few months later, after getting together with the adults in the household, they’re all sleeping together soundly in the giant bed Adam had built for them when he wakes up to an uncomfortably wet feeling he hadn’t felt in years.

He reaches down, and brings back his hand. Blood.

Immediately, he crawls out of bed and quickly gathers some black pajama pants and boxers that Delia was kind enough to buy him, so he would have clothing other than his suit to wear.

Barbra, who was asleep right next to him and a pretty light sleeper, woke up as he crawled out of bed.

She watches him in silence, wondering why he was awake at this time of night.

In the light of the hallway night light, she saw what looked like a red stain covering the front and back of Beetlejuice’s pajama pants. Almost like…

She lifted up the sheets, and was met with a blotch of blood where Beetlejuice laid previously.

Reluctantly, she woke up the others.

“Uh… guys?” “What is it?” Charles rolled over, immediately noticing the blood and sitting up straight with a yelp. Barbra made a shushing motion, a small blush spreading across her face.

Delia woke up, rubbing her eyes. “What time is it?” She asked, her voice still heavy with sleep. “Not important. There’s blood on the sheets.” “Wait, how? Because it’s…” Delia checked quickly. “Okay, it’s not me. And you’re dead. So who…?” “Uh… about that…” “so ghosts can bleed? Jesus fucking Christ…”

Adam awoke, and looked at the blood before looking between Barbra and Delia. “Who…?” Before he could finish his sentence, Delia pointed at Barbra.

Barbra simply shrugged it off, and helped them change the sheets quickly.

With that, she excused herself as they got back into bed and knocked on the bathroom door.

“Gummy bear…?” “What?” It’s evident in his voice that he’s been crying.

“Uh… I saw what happened, it’s alright. We changed the sheets.” “What happened?” “I saw you get up, it’s alright.” With that, he starts crying again.

“Oh shit… uh… is it alright if I come in?”

It takes a minute, but the door eventually unlocks and opens.

His face is streaked with tears, his eyes red from crying and his hair a mix of deep purple and black. He has an arm wrapped around his abdomen, the other on the doorknob.

Without saying anything, he lets Barbra in and closes the door behind her.

They both sit on the bathroom floor, avoiding eye contact.

“So… is this a normal occurrence? I thought it was possible on testosterone?” “It usually isn’t, but there are the occasional screw ups in hormones. So then…” he vaguely gestures to himself and the pile of bloodied clothing in the corner. “This.”

Barbra nods, looking down. “Do you want me to put that to wash for you?” He nods, and she grabs his garments. “Is there anything I can get for you while I’m downstairs? Some snacks or juice? That used to help me when I-“ “just some ibuprofen would be nice.” “Alright dear…” with that, she kisses him on the forehead and walks down to the basement, where the washer and dryer are kept.

He quickly shuts the door and tries to keep an impending panic attack at bay. He shakily gets up and looks at himself in the mirror. He sighs, quietly mumbling “you’re still a man… right?” To himself before going down to the living room to watch TV. Anything to distract him from this miserable hell with yet to come.

Barbra comes back upstairs, holding a blanket she put in the dryer for Beetlejuice when she sees on the sofa, curled up and watching some TV show about three people cracking jokes at the expense of people in clips of them getting hurt or being just plain stupid.

She walks over to him as he pauses the show to look up at her.

“I brought this for you, I thought you would enjoy it.” she says, handing thblanket over to him. “Thank you…” he mumbled before wrapping himself in it.

She gave him a warm smile before grabbing some water and ibuprofen for him from the kitchen and sitting next to him.

He took the pain killers, making a small face of disgust after he swallows them.

“Don’t like pills, huh?” he nods, leaning into her, his hair filled with traces of purple.

“...do you wanna talk about it?” “About pills?” “No, about… uh… I don’t know what you call it-“ “Hell.” “Oh…”

with that, a few strands of red show up, along with additional strands of purple.

“Well, if you need anything, just tell us alright?” “...do the others know?” “No, I’m sure they’re just assuming it was me.” “How would that- alright.” “That’s what I thought, but Delia just sorta blamed it on me and I went with it.” “Thank you…”

They sit in silence for a bit before Beetlejuice wraps his arm around Barbra, snuggling into her. Barbra smiles, playing with his hair until they both fall asleep.

When they wake up, there’s a shopping bag from the local CVS, filled with snacks, a box of chamomile tea, a container of Advil, and a handwritten note.

“Hey, I saw the clothes in the washing machine, so I thought you might enjoy this. They’re in the dryer, take care. -Adam.”

#rusty speaks #beetlejuice #trans beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice bway #beetlejuice broadway #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice incorrect quotes #beetlejuice headcanon #beetlejuice shitpost #beetlejuice angst #beetlejuice meme

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bugaboowritings · 5 years

Text

Manon And Her Babysitter (A Masc!Marinette Fic)

Manon being a Mood for 2393 words straight.

I have like 30 wip’s (not all Masc! Mari fics, I’m working on a new au and maybe even in a zine-fingers crossed) and school is starting for me so heads up if I don’t post much. Or post less than I did before. Writing is a stress reliever for me so you may notice a pattern when I post.

This Masc! Mari (aka Marin Dupain Cheng) AU based off the lovely @daloochsdoodles and their art. Please check them out.

Marin didn’t think that a girl with eyes the size of dinner plates would take such a liking to him. Asking him about his day or take her to parks when she visited.

Manon didn’t think that a headstrong teen would have so much patience with her. Even at her worst and crankiest moments in the day. ——

Alya once told Marin that he intimated her when she first entered the school gates on her first day. His height and dark clothes just added to the anxiousness of the new school, new town, new people growing in her stomach. Alya felt smaller than the head on the tiniest pin needle or a mouse in a garden of starving foxes. Of course, Alya would never let anyone push her around but ideas like that just bubbled over in her mind. Yet the growing worry disappeared the moment Marin looked at her -and flashed a sunny smile.

However, to be fair, Alya later confessed that Marin could never be scary even if he tried. His warm aura, his soft pastel Jagged Stone sweatshirt, with his charming features was the total package of a fluffy boyfriend that anybody, whether their sexuality, would want to wrap their arms around. He’s a soft man. Even with his tall and strong build.

So at this instant, in his family’s living room, he didn’t know if his face looked like the soft friend Alya knew and loved or the intimating teenager that could cut diamond with a stare. His question was answered when the girl that hid behind her mother’s legs gave him a toothy smile. As toothy as she could make it with two of her front teeth missing.

Marin gave a gentle smile back, waving to her before he went back to his tablet. Annotating an article about the American Revolution for history class. Saving the key details in his head to use in the upcoming class debate while relating it back to the French Revolution. Clicking the screen with his stylus some more before his mom called him over.

“Honey, I want you to meet my friend, Nadja.” Sabine introduced, motioning him to show his good manners. Marin reluctantly slips out of his comfy position on the couch. Shaking Nadja’s hand while his mother continued.

“She used to come to the house all the time when you were little! It’s been years since I could remember you guys standing in the same room.”

“Your mother talks a lot about you-”

“Marin, but some people call me Mari.”

“AND I’M MANON CHAMACK!” The little girl yelled excitedly. Sniggering to herself when she got Marin’s attention. Proudly standing in front of her mother while her body rocked back and forth on the balls of her heels. Marin couldn’t help but share her infectious smile. Reminiscing when he was around Manon’s age. How he would try to get noticed by the older kids at school or in family reunions. Making himself seem like the coolest kid ever or just hovering over big kids before they bothered to include him in their games.

Nadja and Sabine smiled at each other, fighting the urge to laugh at Manon’s sudden introduction. Sabine quickly invited them in and out of the doorway. Nadja instinctively followed Sabine when her eyes lingered on her daughter. Praying that she wouldn’t cause too much of a ruckus for Marin.

Marin squatted down to meet Manon’s height.

“So what brings you here, Manon? Have any plans for the day?” He asked. Letting this kid be a healthy distraction from his report.

Manon swang her body side to side, taking in a breath before rambling. “Mom says that she plans to take me to the park if I’m SUPER good when she’s here with your mommy! Maybe even get a cookie from the bakery too!” Skipping her way in and passing Marin. Jumping a little higher as the thought of having a baked good made Manon’s mouth water.

“MAYBE I should even get a brownie! With sprinkles! Or maybe just a WHOLE cake with blue frosting!” Giggling to herself some more before her loud voice went over the list of treats she likes.

“Aren’t you rambunctious,” Marin sighed. Following Manon into the house (while she asked what rambunctious meant) before shutting the front door closed.

—-

“I have a friend with your name. At least it sounds like it.” Manon explained between her bites on her brownie. Still warm from his mother’s kitchen with hints of pinks and blues from the sprinkles Manon added. Crunching them under her tongue. Unintentionally making her mouth a light shade of purple.

“Yeah,” Marin answered. Holding Manon’s hand as he held the other with the animal balloon that he bought (*cough* with no influence from the baby doll eyes *cough*). “What’s their name?” He asked. Looking back and forth for any cars as they crossed the street.

“Maribelle. She’s pretty cool and foreign. Gave me half of her cookie so we’re friends now.” Manon nonchalantly said. Unaware that her friendship was bought, but from the looks of it, she didn’t mind too much about it. “Now that I think about it, Mari sounds like a girl name. Right?” The little girl said innocently.

“Yeah, it was in a way,” Marin replied easily, checking for incoming traffic until they reached the sidewalk. “But things change.” Giving Manon a smile which she returned after wiping the chocolate off the edges of her lips.

“You wanna go on the swings?”

“Last one there is a rotten egg!” Manon snickered. Running as fast as her legs could take her to the empty swing set. Leaving Marin in her dust.

——–

“PLEASSSEEE MARI!” Manon cried. Collapsing onto the ground and kicking her feet in the air. All as Marin stood firm on his promise with Nadja.

Don’t let her eat sweets after 7 pm.

“No.”

Earning him another anger huff from the little girl.

Nadja was off handling another story that needed to be scripted and filmed on the same day. Extremely unrealistic for someone to do, but Nadja was up for the challenge if it meant that she could have a full week off with her daughter. The exhausted, workaholic mother promised Marin that she would be back before 11 pm. However, he pushed back his tutoring session from tomorrow morning to tomorrow in the afternoon just in case she came in later than that.

Till Nadja arrived, Marin was ready to handle a cranky six-year-old for the next three+ hours.

Manon, now a cranky and sleepy six-year-old, stopped tossing and turning on the ground. Stretching out her arms and legs like a starfish in defeat. Closing her eyes and slowly opening them again.

“Tired?” Marin asked, placing his hands on his hips.

Manon nodded, lifting herself off the ground. “Can I have Unicorn Puffs for a snack now?”

“I’ll make you a fruit bowl with fresh strawberries and melon.” Marin reasoned. Recalling that Unicorn Puff Cereal was also a “no” in Nadja’s list.

“I can put that one chocolate drizzle you like on them though.” He sighed, lowering himself to Manon’s level.

The little girl shot up from the floor, her twin-tails bouncing with her quick nod. Gaining back her energy and beaming her toothy smile. Now complete thanks to her new front teeth.

“Deal.”

——–

“Look, Marin! It’s that one person from your magazines!” Manon wooed. Amazed that the model’s hair was as shiny in real life like it was in the glossy pages of Vogue. Wanting to feel it as she stepped towards them before getting pulled back.

“Oh my gosh, Manon! Look the merry-go-around is empty. You should totally go there!” Marin hissed, ignoring his friend/unicorn’s laughs. Pushing Manon towards the carousel. Away from the shiny person taking pictures from the fountain.

////

Manon choked on the sobs that threaten to come up her mouth. Her face felt hot like the time she threw up all the sugary goods that turned bitter in her stomach. However, this type of sick didn’t make Manon’s belly flip in pain, but her tiny heart beat faster and her palms lost their grip on Alya’s hand. She wanted her mommy to smoothen her nerves or Marin to pull her in one for his hugs. Wishing she could smell the fabric softer his mother buys on his sweater or hear her mom tell her that it would be okay in the end.

-But no matter how much Alya distracted her, Manon could only watch the ice around her grow thicker and thicker. Looking towards the outside was harder as the ice grew mistier. The firefighters outside tried to explain how they would get them out as if to calm them down but Manon couldn’t hear them and the ice made them look all distorted and ‘wriggly’.

“Lady Beetle and Chat Noir will save us. Right?”

Manon remembering back to the dolls Marin sewed of the heroes. How they sat on his shelves with a smile. Wondering if they would look that friendly when they pull people out of danger. Or if they really win every time when an Akuma comes and hurts Paris.

“Of course! They’re superheroes."Alya smiled. Pulling her face towards her. Grinning like everything was okay, even when it felt like it wasn’t. Rubbing circles on her back to keep her warm.

"They always save the day. We just have to trust them.”

////

Lady Beetle jumped from building to building before landing on the ice dome that shielded the merry-go-round from the summer heat. Showing no usual signs of melting. Making him less surprised when he felt the toughness and chill of the temperature drop from the ice through his suit.

Lady Beetle doubted it would make a dent, but he still whipped his yo-yo around the ice capsule. In an attempt to crack it or even split the whole thing. The yo-yo didn’t do much like the firefighter’s axes. Huffing in frustration before seeing a little girl clapped her hands against the ice.

“Manon-”

“LADY BEETLE!” She cried out. Getting the woman behind her to do the same.

“Alya,” Lady Beetle whispered. Rushing over to them.

“LADY BEETLE!” Manon yelled again, softer than the last as LB got her level. He resisted the urge to tell Manon everything. That he’s sorry for leaving her for even a moment when he promised her to protect her. Sorry about ignoring her the whole day and pushing her aside for one of his complex plans on getting a date. Sorry for not stopping Stormy Weather from trapping them in a chilly container. Even apologizing that he didn’t buy the ice cream she wanted.

However, then would blow his identity.

Lady Beetle rolled his words in his mouth, having to settle for the “You will be okay, I’ll get you out” line. Swallowing his uncertainty as he heard Stormy Weather crackled her umbrella to form a hurricane in Chat Noir’s direction. Who tried their best to push Stormy away from the citizens.

Lady Beetle looped his yo-yo in his fingers. Ready to throw it before Manon called out to him.

“I trust you.”

—

Marin hurried before the reporters could mog him for an interview or bumble questions about the Akuma attack today. Chat Noir left before their miraculous give out and Marin just needs to see if Manon and Alya were okay. The Miraculous cure would have healed them if anything happened yet that didn’t make Marin feel any better though when he reached the park and they weren’t there.

“MANON! ALYA!”

He called, running around for a bit. Knocking into someone, promptly saying sorry before spinning his head around to find his friends. His lungs drew sharps breaths the more he ran. Stopping when he heard a small shout calling his name.

“MARI!”

“Manon! Alya!”

Rushing into Manon’s hug. Glad to see her again and even better to feel that being trapped in a chilly ice dome for an hour didn’t give her a fever. Manon’s little hands pulled on Marin’s face, making him face her big, goofy grin. Alya behind her having the same one plastered on her face, only to punch Marin’s arm and scold him for scaring them shitless when he disappeared when the Akuma nearly froze all of Paris.

“YOU WILL NEVER BELIEVE WHO WE SAW TODAY!”

“Wh-”

“LADY BEETLE!” Manon screamed. Almost making Marin drop her from the shock of her roar. From there Manon continued to gush about the red hero. How they tried to get them out and then promised to beat the Akuma to save them. How high they could jump, making it seem that they could fly over buildings. How Chat Noir and Lady Beetle worked together to save the day. Plus how cool Chat Noir looked when saying “Cataclysm”. How the magic ladybugs fixed everything for good and how-

“I’m just glad you’re okay, Manon.” Marin sighed. Chuckling as Manon tried to mimicking Lady Beetle calling on their Lucky Charm. Alya stole Marin’s attention while she happily flipped through the photos of the Akuma to post on the Ladyblog. Mentioning how some filters were needed to make the picture clearer. Even catching a video of the magical ladybug effortlessly fixing buildings and basically 'curing’ all the victims that got swept up in Stormy Weather’s scheme.

Marin was just relieved that everyone was fine and well as people gawked at the aftermath of Lady Beetle’s damage-control or how the girl with the once cursed umbrella now happily smiles on TV announcing that the weather channel will now have two hosts.

——— All as a certain black cat sprang down to an alley. Dropping the magical transformation and swiftly returning to their life. Slipping their way back into the park where a restless and provocative photographer sat and a large gorilla- uh, I mean bodyguard searched for him. Leaving the small piece of freedom they have behind to return to their civilian life. Not before knocking into someone that looked too familiar to just be a stranger.

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musiclover2732 · 1 year

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I posted 1,858 times in 2022

20 posts created (1%)

1,838 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@eeveelotions

@elytrians

@sergeantsporks

@crazyw3irdo

@zo-lost-and-confused

I tagged 1,855 of my posts in 2022

#reblog - 1,834 posts

#art by op - 381 posts

#monster high - 104 posts

#hetalia - 87 posts

#the owl house - 85 posts

#toh - 84 posts

#zexal - 57 posts

#yugioh zexal - 56 posts

#yu gi oh zexal - 56 posts

#ygo zexal - 56 posts

Longest Tag: 118 characters

#💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

My Top Posts in 2022:

10 notes - Posted September 2, 2022

WE TRENDING NOT ONCE BUT TWICE YALL

15 notes - Posted February 10, 2022

would y’all consider a slime girl to be slimy?

16 notes - Posted October 19, 2022

My Prediction for Camp Cretaceous Season Five (season four spoilers ahead but also this is a joke)

Kenji is forced to choose between his father and his friends. Daniel is wealthy and might spend time on this island so theres a very large (oddly familiar) golf course there too. Kenji is a dramatic theater kid who also probably watched disney channel as a kid. i want him to perform Bet On It exactly as it appears in HSM. i want Kenj’s VA to sing it too (i don’t care how good/bad his voice is). i want this to be real and i want it to be the only musical moment in the franchise. Kenji going feral on a golf course while everyone just kinda waits around in awkward silence. universal, hire me.

https://youtu.be/k-t4vqd534Y

18 notes - Posted February 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

THE COMPLEX HISTORY ALGORITHM!!!!!!

21 notes - Posted November 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#what were the 3 untagged posts???#tumblr year in review #tumblr

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