#Unsafe Binding Practices

[traggalicious]

Nonbinary clown-core is just when u go home and have to unbind. Like. [Removes camisole] [removes sports bra] [removes sports bra] [removes sports bra] [removes sports bra] [remo—]

[castle-dominion]

I forget how I usually advertise my fics

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Castle (TV 2009)

Relationship: Javier Esposito/Kevin Ryan

Characters: Javier Esposito, Kevin Ryan, Other characters mentioned I think

Additional Tags: Trans Male Character, Fluff, One Shot, Unsafe Binding Practices, Episode: s05e18 The Wild Rover (Castle TV 2009), Episode Tag, Season/Series 05, Trans Kevin Ryan, Established Relationship, Established Rysposito

Language:English, Published:2023-09-13, Words:1,019, Chapters:1/1, Hits:0

The wild rover needs to take off his binder - (Trans!Ryan, 5x18 tag) by ADHDdumbass

Summary:

Ryan finally comes home after the events of 5x18. In the show it seemed like Ryan was only gone for, like, two days, but in my fic I wrote it more like a week. He has been wearing his binder for too long & Esposito gets concerned, but they have been up all night since Ryan called Esposito on Liam's phone that night on the docks, so they are just going to take a little rest. Fluff.

Notes:

Inspired by Finally Back by orphan_account.

I saw this other fic & decided "holy crap that could be so good if I rewrote it for these characters. Credit goes to the original author, but the fic is orphaned so... I can't exactly credit them. Still, u can check out the fic!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

[mavro-nation]

druck season 3 was genuinely so healing as a trans guy that the first time i watched it i hated it because it made me confront parts of myself i didn’t even know existed

rewatching 2 years later, the scene in episode 10 where david’s laying with matteo, and he’s finally happy, but still staring at matteo’s chest with that longing even before asked about surgery is just. ugh. brought me to tears.

“you’re not some kind of fucked up vampire who has to hide from society. you’re not that. you have me, and that means you have forever. because… because i love you.” WHAT. SOBBING.

[locked-in-my-heartbackup]

"Fuck that doctor guy, unsafe binding it is!"

[one-hit-boy-wonder]

PSA to NOT put duck tape on your honey!!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Private-sector Trumpism

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in CHICAGO with PETER SAGAL on WEDNESDAY (Apr 2), and in BLOOMINGTON on FRIDAY (Apr 4). More tour dates here.

Trumpism is a mixture of grievance, surveillance, and pettiness: "I will never forgive your mockery, I have records of you doing it, and I will punish you and everyone who associates with you for it." Think of how he's going after the (cowardly) BigLaw firms:

https://abovethelaw.com/2025/03/skadden-makes-100-million-settlement-with-trump-in-pro-bono-payola/

Trump is the realization of decades of warning about ubiquitous private and public surveillance – that someday, all of this surveillance would be turned to the systematic dismantling of human rights and punishing of dissent.

23 years ago, I was staying in London with some friends, scouting for a flat to live in. After at day in town, I came back and we ordered a curry and had a nice chat. I mentioned how discomfited I'd been by all the CCTV cameras that had sprouted at the front of every private building, to say nothing of all the public cameras installed by local councils and the police. My friend dismissed this as a kind of American, hyper-individualistic privacy purism, explaining that these cameras were there for public safety – to catch flytippers, vandals, muggers, boy racers tearing unsafely through the streets. My fear about having my face captured by all these cameras was little more than superstitious dread. It's not like they were capturing my soul.

Now, I knew that my friend had recently marched in one of the massive demonstrations against Bush and Blair's illegal invasion plans for Iraq. "Look," I said, "you marched in the street to stand up and be counted. But even so, how would you have felt if – as a condition of protesting – you were forced to first record your identity in a government record-book?" My friend had signed petitions, he'd marched in the street, but even so, he had to admit that there would be some kind of chilling effect if your identity had to be captured as a condition of participating in public political events.

Trump has divided the country into two groups of people: "citizens" (who are sometimes only semi-citizens) and immigrants (who have no rights):

https://crookedtimber.org/2025/03/29/trumps-war-on-immigrants-is-the-cancellation-of-free-society/#fn-53926-1

Trump has asserted that he can arrest and deport immigrants (and some semi-citizens) for saying things he doesn't like, or even liking social media posts he disapproves of. He's argued that he can condemn people to life in an offshore slave-labor camp if he doesn't like their tattoos. It is tyranny, built on ubiquitous surveillance, fueled by spite and grievance.

One of Trumpism's most important tenets is that private institutions should have the legal right to discriminate against minorities that he doesn't like. For example, he's trying to end the CFPB's enforcement action against Townstone, a mortgage broker that practiced rampant racial discrimination:

https://prospect.org/justice/2025-03-28-trump-scrambles-pardon-corporate-criminals-townstone-boeing-cfpb/

By contrast, Trump abhors the idea that private institutions should be allowed to discriminate against the people he likes, hence his holy war against "DEI":

https://www.cnbc.com/2025/03/29/trump-administration-warns-european-companies-to-comply-with-anti-dei-order.html

This is the crux of Wilhoit's Law, an important and true definition of "conservativism":

Conservatism consists of exactly one proposition, to wit: There must be in-groups whom the law protectes but does not bind, alongside out-groups whom the law binds but does not protect.

https://crookedtimber.org/2018/03/21/liberals-against-progressives/#comment-729288

Wilhoit's definition is an important way of framing how conservatives view the role of the state. But there's another definition I like, one that's more about how we relate to one-another, which I heard from Steven Brust: "Ask, 'What's more important: human rights or property rights?' Anyone who answers 'property rights are human rights' is a conservative."

Thus the idea that a mortgage broker or an employer or a banker or a landlord should be able to discriminate against you because of the color of your skin, your sexual orientation, your gender, or your beliefs. If "property rights are human rights," then the human right not to rent to a same-sex couple is co-equal with the couple's human right to shelter.

The property rights/human rights distinction isn't just a way to cleave right from left – it's also a way to distinguish the left from liberals. Liberals will tell you that 'it's not censorship if it's done privately' – on the grounds that private property owners have the absolute right to decide which speech they will or won't permit. Charitably, we can say that some of these people are simply drawing a false equivalence between "violating the First Amendment" and "censorship":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/04/yes-its-censorship/

But while private censorship is often less consequential than state censorship, that isn't always true, and even when it is, that doesn't mean that private censorship poses no danger to free expression.

Consider a thought experiment in which a restaurant chain called "No Politics At the Dinner Table Cafe" buys up every eatery in town, and then maintains its monopoly by sewing up exclusive deals with local food producers, and then expands into babershops, taxis and workplace cafeterias, enforcing a rule in all these spaces that bans discussions of politics:

https://locusmag.com/2020/01/cory-doctorow-inaction-is-a-form-of-action/

Here we see how monopoly, combined with property rights, creates a system of censorship that is every bit as consequential as a government rule. And if all of those facilities were to add AI-backed cameras and mics that automatically monitored all our conversations for forbidden political speech, then surveillance would complete the package, yielding private censorship that is effectively indistinguishable from government censorship – with the main difference being that the First Amendment permits the former and prohibits the latter.

The fear that private wealth could lead to a system of private rule has been in America since its founding, when Thomas Jefferson tried (unsuccessfully) to put a ban on monopolies into the US Constitution. A century later, Senator John Sherman wrote the Sherman Act, the first antitrust bill, defending it on the Senate floor by saying:

If we would not submit to an emperor we should not submit to an autocrat of trade.

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/20/we-should-not-endure-a-king/

40 years ago, neoliberal economists ended America's century-long war on monopolies, declaring monopolies to be "efficient" and convincing Carter, then Reagan, then all their successors (except Biden) to encourage monopolies to form. The US government all but totally suspended enforcement of its antitrust laws, permitting anticompetitive mergers, predatory pricing, and illegal price discrimination. In so doing, they transformed America into a monopolist's playground, where versions of the No Politics At the Dinner Table Cafe have conquered every sector of our economy:

https://www.openmarketsinstitute.org/learn/monopoly-by-the-numbers

This is especially true of our speech forums – the vast online platforms that have become the primary means by which we engage in politics, civics, family life, and more. These platforms are able to decide who may speak, what they may say, and what we may hear:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/10/e2e/#the-censors-pen

These platforms are optimized for mass surveillance, and, when coupled with private sector facial recognition databases, it is now possible to realize the nightmare scenario I mooted in London 23 years ago. As you move through both the virtual and physical world, you can be identified, your political speech can be attributed to you, and it can be used as a basis for discrimination against you:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/20/steal-your-face/#hoan-ton-that

This is how things work at the US border, of course, where border guards are turning away academics for having anti-Trump views:

https://www.nytimes.com/2025/03/20/world/europe/us-france-scientist-entry-trump-messages.html

It's not just borders, though. Large, private enterprises own large swathes of our world. They have the unlimited property right to exclude people from their properties. And they can spy on us as much as they want, because it's not just antitrust law that withered over the past four decades, it's also privacy law. The last consumer privacy law Congress bestirred itself to pass was 1988's "Video Privacy Protection Act," which bans video-store clerks from disclosing your VHS rentals. The failure to act on privacy – like the failure to act on monopoly – has created a vacuum that has been filled up with private power. Today, it's normal for your every action – every utterance, every movement, every purchase – to be captured, stored, combined, analyzed, and, of course sold.

With vast property holdings, total property rights, and no privacy law, companies have become the autocrats of trade, able to regulate our speech and association in ways that can no longer be readily distinguished state conduct that is at least theoretically prohibited by the First Amendment.

Take Madison Square Garden, a corporate octopus that owns theaters, venues and sport stadiums and teams around the country. The company is notoriously vindictive, thanks to a spate of incidents in which the company used facial recognition cameras to bar anyone who worked at a law-firm that was suing the company from entering any of its premises:

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/12/22/nyregion/madison-square-garden-facial-recognition.html

This practice was upheld by the courts, on the grounds that the property rights of MSG trumped the human rights of random low-level personnel at giant law firms where one lawyer out of thousands happened to be suing the company:

https://www.nbcnewyork.com/news/local/madison-square-gardens-ban-on-lawyers-suing-them-can-remain-in-place-court-rules/4194985/

Take your kid's Girl Scout troop on an outing to Radio City Music Hall? Sure, just quit your job and go work for another firm.

But that was just for starters. Now, MSG has started combing social media to identify random individuals who have criticized the company, and has added their faces to the database of people who can't enter their premises. For example, a New Yorker named Frank Miller has been banned for life from all MSG properties because, 20 years ago, he designed a t-shirt making fun of MSG CEO James Dolan:

https://www.theverge.com/news/637228/madison-square-garden-james-dolan-facial-recognition-fan-ban

This is private-sector Trumpism, and it's just getting started.

Take hotels: the entire hotel industry has collapsed into two gigachains: Marriott and Hilton. Both companies are notoriously bad employers and at constant war with their unions (and with nonunion employees hoping to unionize in the face of flagrant, illegal union-busting). If you post criticism online of both hotel chains for hiring scabs, say, and they add you to a facial recognition blocklist, will you be able to get a hotel room?

After more than a decade of Uber and Lyft's illegal predatory pricing, many cities have lost their private taxi fleets and massively disinvested in their public transit. If Uber and Lyft start compiling dossiers of online critics, could you lose the ability to get from anywhere to anywhere, in dozens of cities?

Private equity has rolled up pet groomers, funeral parlors, and dialysis centers. What happens if the PE barons running those massive conglomerates decide to exclude their critics from any business in their portfolio? How would it feel to be shut out of your mother's funeral because you shit-talked the CEO of Foundation Partners Group?

https://kffhealthnews.org/news/article/funeral-homes-private-equity-death-care/

More to the point: once this stuff starts happening, who will dare to criticize corporate criminals online, where their speech can be captured and used against them, by private-sector Trumps armed with facial recognition and the absurd notion that property rights aren't just human rights – they're the ultimate human rights?

The old fears of Thomas Jefferson and John Sherman have come to pass. We live among autocrats of trade, and don't even pretend the Constitution controls what these private sector governments can do to us.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/03/31/madison-square-garden/#autocrats-of-trade

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[littlelovelunette]

Could you do non binary jinx x reader where jinx keeps keeping their binder on too long/too tight ?

(If not it’s fine)

Love your writing! Hope you’re taking care !

Not Good Good

Contains unsafe binding practices, mild chest dysphoria, mild injury, hurt/comfort, non binary!jinx

Jinx had always been reckless. That was nothing new. They ran headfirst into danger with a manic grin, laughed in the face of explosions, and lived their life like a fuse burning down to its last spark. But this? This was different. This wasn’t a battle against some Enforcer or a wild plan to one-up Silco’s enemies. This was their own body, their own damn stubbornness, working against them.

You noticed it first when they stretched, arms raised high, a grimace flickering across their face before they could bury it under something cocky. "Jinx." You leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "When’s the last time you took off your binder?"

They snorted, rolling their eyes. "Pfft. Dunno, babe. Time’s a social construct." You gave them a look, and their grin twitched. "Seriously, Jinx."

Their fingers tapped at their belt, restless energy crackling in their veins. "I’m fine," they said, voice light, but the way they shifted their weight told another story.

You sighed, stepping closer. Gently, you ran your hands over their ribs, fingers ghosting over the fabric stretched too tight beneath their cropped vest. They flinched.

"Jinx." Your voice softened. "How long?"

Their jaw tightened. "Dunno. A day? Two? Feels fine."

Two days. Two whole days?

"Jinx, you can’t do that. Your ribs—"

"Are still in one piece," they interrupted, forcing a grin. "See? No sudden ‘crack’ sounds, no lungs collapsing. I’m good!"

You frowned, but before you could argue, they suddenly swayed, grabbing onto the table for balance. Shit.

"Okay, yeah, maybe not good good," they admitted, blinking hard, like the room had just tilted sideways.

"Sit. Now." Your voice left no room for debate.

For once, they didn’t argue. You guided them onto the couch, kneeling in front of them. Your fingers went to the hem of their vest, and they tensed.

"Let me help," you murmured.

Jinx hesitated, biting their lip, but nodded. Slowly, carefully, you helped them peel away the layers until only the binder remained, black fabric stretched taut over their ribs. They sucked in a sharp breath when you started rolling it up, and you immediately paused.

"Too much?"

"Nah." They exhaled shakily. "Just... weird."

You worked slower, easing it over their shoulders until finally—finally—it was off. The angry red lines biting into their skin made your stomach twist. Their ribs were sore to the touch, muscles stiff from lack of air.

Jinx slumped back against the cushions, taking their first real deep breath in days. Their shoulders rose, fell. They blinked at the ceiling, lips parted slightly, like they’d forgotten what it was like to breathe freely.

"Better?" you asked softly.

They let out a breathless laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, s’better."

You traced a careful finger along the reddened skin, your heart aching at the sight. "Jinx, you have to be careful."

They rolled their head to the side, looking at you. "I just—" Their voice wavered for a split second before they swallowed hard. "I don’t like it. My chest. Feels wrong."

You reached for their hand, squeezing it gently. "I know, baby. I know. But hurting yourself won’t help. You need to give your body breaks."

They exhaled, shoulders slumping. "I don’t wanna look in the mirror and see that."

You brushed their messy blue strands back, pressing a kiss to their temple. "Then we’ll find something that works better for you. A safer binder. A looser fit. Anything, as long as you don’t end up hurting yourself like this again."

Jinx’s fingers tightened around yours. For once, they didn’t have a quip, didn’t deflect with jokes or chaos. They just nodded, eyes a little too bright, a little too raw.

"...Okay," they whispered.

You kissed their knuckles, lingering there. "Okay."

That night, you kept them close, fingers tracing over the spots where the fabric had left its mark. You’d remind them as many times as it took—they weren’t broken. They weren’t wrong. They were Jinx, and you loved them, all of them.

Even on the nights they didn’t.

[transmasc-advice-blog]

Binding

Binders

I found that Spectrum Outfitters worked best for me (prices range from $50-$39). I also have binders that are older and stretched out or that don’t work as well (like gc2b) that I use when I don’t need as flat of a chest because they are easier on my rib cage lol. If you do that, do NOT count that as a break!

Practice safe binding!

Don't bind for more than 8 hours

Don't sleep in a binder

Don't exercise in a binder

Get the right size

Try to only wear a binder for 5 or 6 days a week (this one is hard, I know)

If it hurts, take it off!

If you notice bruising, something is wrong! Your binder might be too small or you may be wearing it for too long.

TransTape

Wearing binders all the time is not too good for you so I recommend using a variety of different binding techniques. One is TransTape!

The reason Ace bandages are unsafe is because as you breathe it gets tighter and tighter and can really hurt you. But TransTape doesn't do that, it's like the tape athletes use when they sprain their ankle or something. It's safe as long as it is used properly. Plus, you can wear it for up to 5 days, exercise and sleep while wearing it, and it's water proof!

TransTape isn't the only brand of course, but they do have a lot of great resources.

Learn more at their website here. I recommend starting with this page and the FAQ.

KT tape is another option if you cant afford/arent allowed to order TransTape. You can find it at most drugstores and box stores for relatively cheap. The adhesive isnt as strong as TransTape, keep that in mind when applying.

Men's Compression Shirts *I have not used these myself (yet) but I hear they work pretty well*

Made for cis men with gynecomastia but hey we can use em. Obviously will work much better for smaller chests, but could still do something for bigger chests, maybe for under a hoodie?

They won't flatten you as well as binders but the goal is more to masculinize the shape of your chest than to completely flatten it. They are also safer than binders.

Other stuff

The color black will make you look flatter

Layers! Lots of layers! (don't overheat)

Sports bras

Compression bras

Button ups <3333

Resources

Pain-Free Binding Techniques | Youtube Video by Arthur Rockwell

Binding 101 - Point of Pride

Binding Safely - Spectrum Outfitters

How to Hide Your Chest (without a binder) | Youtube Video by Iris Olympia

Binder Care - Spectrum Outfitters

Please free feel to add!

[zaunbinary]

trans silco hc mostly about binding bc this is the posture of a transgender man

content warning for unsafe binding practices silco isn’t real and if he was he’s dead so he can hurt his ribs but YOU can so bind safely

never got top surgery because he didn’t want to lose the time that recovery would take. his boobs would be free when his city’s free

didn’t bind when he’d work in the minds partly because of discomfort mostly because he Actually Couldn’t Breath with the air condition

felicia and vander would always try to tell him to take his bandages off or find a safer way to bind and silco would hit them with “oh so you don’t want me comfortable with who i am? is that what you’re saying?” and it took him saying this like 3 separate times for them to realize he wasn’t being serious

didn’t bind at all for the first year after vander tried to kill him because it felt too suffocating. he tried once causing a panic attack where he desperately tried to claw the bandages off eventually using a knife to cut them off completely leaving a few scars on his side

eventually the routine of binding became sort of cathartic? almost? everyday he’d watch himself in the mirror slowly building himself into something stronger than his past. or at least that’s how he saw it

singed was mad as hell finding out how silco binded and would plead for him to PLEASE let me chop your tits off please🙏

[sluttyblacksmith]

Dakota couldn’t save her because he was unsafely binding. If he had practiced safe binding he could’ve caught her.

[grim333z]

Bandages~

Ftm!Carl x Ftm! reader 

[ this was intended to be ftm reader but honestly it works for anyone really.]

{Tw: mentions of unsafe binding, scars, gender dysphoria}

"Don't believe what they say

We're dead flies in the summertime

They leave us all behind

With duct-tape scars on my honey"

"hey,?" Rings out from the entryway, the quiet gentle tick of the latch hooking as the door closes, its the Grimes boy, you'd seen him around every so often, preferring to bury yourself in your studies rather than engage with any of the other teenagers in the area. "Hm?" You hum as a gentle response, watching his figure soon appear across the counter to you. 

"Can I help..?" You query, looking at him looking uncomfortably out of place, he'd been in the infirmary for a gunshot wound not long back, way back when Denise hadn't got a clue to even start training someone, letting you linger but not touch. Being fascinated by everything she did, but being shut down after asking any questions, distracting her from her work unintentionally.

"Is Denise here?" He glances around with his one none bandaged eye, before his gaze falls back on you again,  you shake your head in response, shutting the book in front of you. 

"She isn't here, is there anything I can help with...?"  Your eyes focused on him, as he looks down at the floor in front of his feet, you can practically smell the embarrassment radiating off him, like he's only in their for a really stupid reason. "I just, needed some bandages...please" He hums quietly, glancing at the storage cupboard, "Why?" You huff in response, garnering a look of confusion from the boy; who'd now clearly never been challenged for needing medical supplies,

"For my eye...?"He hums, to which you nod in response, letting him wander over to the cupboard grabbing a bandage which was far to long and far to wide to wrap a couple times around his head, while the bandages that he usually needed sat unacknowledged beside the one he'd picked up. "Wrong one, you need the one to the right," He turns to look at you, the roll sitting limp in his palm, "What, oh.. right" He responds picking up the right one.

"Unless you need the other one, but if you did it wouldn't be for your eye... too long to wide to sit comfortably on your face." You ramble, looking at him. Watching him debate about which one's he actually needs. "You can tell me you know..?" You breathe, trying to coax whatever it is out of him. 

"I just, I just need these okay.." He says shovelling the roll into his pocket before making a B-line to the door. "What for." You say, not letting up, "I have to tell Denise, and she'll get an answer out of you anyway." 

"Just drop it." You say, watching him glare at you, before the pale white roll falls from his hands, slipping out his grip accidentally. He bends down to pick the thing up, wincing on his way down ."I didn't mean actuall- are you alright...?" You ask... as he attempts to straighten out in front of you. "m'fine, just some side pain, its nothing." He brushes you off. 

"Side pain?" You ask, feeling the curiosity rise within you, the un-satiable need for explanations, and there really was no Denise to take this patient from you, she was out. 

"Rib pain..?" He breaths, like he almost doesen't want you to hear. 

"You're not..?" You question, glancing at the bandages in his hands before back up to his face as he nods. "Ah...Right, you're... ok I get it, just... you're in pain?" Letting your feet fall against the floor as you walk around the kitchen island to stand in front of him, watching him nod. 

"You could be bruising your ribs. Especially if you're going out on runs with it on, How long...?" You hum, as he pauses for a moment to think before responding, "A couple years." Your eyes widen.. "Years..?" blinking at him for a moment before continuing "Without a break?" 

He nods, a faint look of guilt crossing his face, "Its, just not safe. I'm gonna say take a break, hell stop using them, we have some sports tape you could try, its kinda fiddly but its less pressure on the ribs if you wanna give it a go..." His eyes look up at you, intrigued by your suggestion, 

"Sports tape?" He questions, making eye contact for the first time, slightly confused on why you haven't bombarded him with questions, just taken the information and offered help. 

"Kt tape, people use it to like support muscles after sustaining injury's in sport, Denise always puts it on the lists for run's since someone's always pulling something when on runs or working on something." he nods in response to your words, mulling them over in his mind.

"Doesn't it just work like bandages though...?" You feel his gaze on you as you head to the cupboard to grab a decent size roll of pale flesh tone KT tape, "Nope, it doesn't compress...? it kind of just moves it, to look flatter... so there's no pressure on the ribs. Its a little fiddly, but once you've got it, it'll stay there for a bit then you change it." He look perplexed at the small roll in your hands, nervously chewing his bottom lip. 

"Uh, right, thanks" He quietly accepts the roll, heading for the door. "I'll give it a go..."

"You sure you don't wanna try it in the bathroom, you know in case you need any help" You hum as you resume your seat in front at the counter, Carl stammers unsure on how to respond, seeming eager to escape this incredibly awkward situation, however deep down knowing he's more than likely got no fucking clue where to start. "I don't-" He stumbles over his words, unsure on which option is gonna work out most in his favour.

"I won't do anything you're uncomfortable with. I'm a doctor not a creep." Your fingers idly trace the raised letters on the cover of the incredibly worn medical textbook in front of you, noting the distinct look of hesitation plastered across his face. "hm?" He poses the sound like its a question but you aren't entirely sure what he's trying to ask. "I'm- I mean I don't really know what- how to... you know" he sucks in a deep breath, feigning composure.

You click your tongue, before signalling him towards you. Standing up to find a pair of scissors, watching his awkward form linger where you once stood, upon your return, he passes the roll over, watching you cut off a decent strip and round the edges, doing that three more times before passing them too him, "You just kind of" You hum making the motion he'd need to follow, a confused but almost understanding look on his face. "It'll be weird at first, Just give it a go...?" 

"uh yeah, I- uh still haven't got a clue." He stammers holding the strips you'd cut off like they're inches away from exploding, "I can do it for you, you just don't seem the most comfortable right now, let alone-" He nods, before you can finish talking.

"It's fine, just get it over with" He rambles.

Sliding his Shirt down, running the pale palms of his hands down the front of his shirt. You watch as his eyebrows wrinkle before softening before looking up at you with a gentle momentary smile on his face, hardly even their. "Thanks.." He breaths, looking in the mirror as you collect the backs off the tape and throw them into the small trash bin beside the toilet, nodding "It's fine, dude I get it." He looks at you in confusion before clocking your words, smiling at you before walking out. Leaving you to clean up, which you didn't really mind, there wasn't really much else to do. 

Over time he develops the habit of coming to you to change it, trusting you more than himself to apply it right. 

He stands in front of you, gently tracing the buds of his finger tips around the edges of the fresh tape, looking at himself in the mirror, "They're not to tight are they?" You query, noting him fussing over them longer than usual, he shakes his head, blue eye tracing his own bare pale torso in the mirror, "Are you okay...?" You whisper, receiving a hum in response. Passing over the grey button-up he'd come to the infirmary in, slipping it on loosely, he hesitates glancing at you. "I- thanks for doing this for me... I really appreciate it" He hums, unsure where to look though his gaze always seems to land on your lips, only for a brief moment though you're so sure of it, "It's fine honestly, isn't much else to do around he-" You ramble being cut off by his lips against yours, feeling his arms either side of you as he braces himself, it's messy and clumsy like he's really acted on impulse here, though it doesn't lack emotion, you can tell whatever has brought this on has been building for some time... Though when he pulls away he looks thoroughly ridden with guilt, fingers fumbling to  button up his shirt as he fiddles with his free hand to get the door open. Leaving you left confused, leaning against the cool granite counter in the bathroom,  blinking at the empty space where he was just stood. 

The rest of the day you spend spaced out staring at the words in the notes Denise gave you to study; which in all reality were just a distraction to keep you out of her way. Eyes going over the words over and over without them ever actually being absorbed. This spaced out state doesn't seem to dissipate on the walk home either, until you spot him, knees drawn to his chest atop the gazebo he usually sat with Enid on, however this time he was alone. 

"Carl?" You pause your movements yelling up to him, just faintly you see his eye widen as it clicks in his brain who you are. "Uhm...uh shit- I uh.." He stammers, meanwhile you're climbing up to sit with him, hearing the apologies start the moment you take seat beside him "I uh I'm sorry I just don't know what I was thinking... I just, I'm so-" He stumbles being cut off as you pull his face towards you, looking into his eye, the warmth of his face radiating into the palms of your hands "Carl, Dude" He blinks at you, chewing the dry skin in the corner of his mouth; radiating some uncomfortable almost fear. "You never gave me a chance to respond, you just took off...I didn't mind it..." You whisper, watching his gaze fade into something more relaxed. "Really?" His words are filled to the brim with uncertainty, the gentle almost child like uncertainty faintly lingering in each of his words. "Really." You whisper, brushing some of his loose hair behind his ear. The faint pink edges of his lips raise slightly, illuminated by the subtle blue glow from the moon. 

[awriterofdivinedreams]

Interest Check for Kakashi Fanfics

What WIP would you like to read? 

This isn’t a promise that I’ll work on what wins. I’m curious as to what people want.

Branching Out Under Shadows

Kid Kakashi has a run-in with Genma’s cousin (transman) and Kk asks if he can be a shinobi (tw panic attack?)

First Rain Over Parched Fields

Kid Kakashi gets his first period on a team mission (tw body dysphoria, tw panic attack?)

Cambium Wolf (wip link here)

Team 7 meets Kakashi’s wolf partner, Nasukome, for the first time (during wave arc)

Tending a Neglected Garden (wip link here)

Kakashi can’t bind a week into his 1 on 1 training with Sasuke for the chuunin exams (tw unsafe binding practice)

Breezes Over Pistil and Stamen

Kakashi courting Iruka over the years from Iruka’s perspective

Future Germination

Kkir kids time travel to pre-chuunin exam arc and meet team 7

PLEASE REBLOG TO SPREAD AROUND!!!!

[customboytoyz]

i can't bind rn because my ribs are fucked (i didn't bind unsafely, my body is just falling apart) so now to distract myself from dysphoria i'm thinking about a forcemasc scenario where i convince a roommate to use strong kinesio tape instead of wearing a bra "because it'll just make your chest seem a little smaller and stop people from staring". and of course i need to help her do it the first couple of times until he just does it on his own without thinking, like he used to with a bra. it's just comfier than those pushup bras with wires he used to wear. but when he first started doing it on his own, he got his long hair stuck in it several times and called me for help. i told him every time it would really be easier if he just cut it. eventually he let me give him a haircut, it's unfortunate my hand slipped but it'll grow back. he can handle a couple of months with hair as short as mine. he said that he's starting a new job but that everyone in the interview process was confused by his fem name, so i suggested he just picked a masculine name to use during work. it would be easier for him to introduce himself to his new coworkers if he didn't have to explain everything each time. and then we practiced him being called by that name until his new job started. i only called him by that name every time we saw each other. and when he started it, well it's easier for him to remember what name to respond to if i only call him by his work name.

is this anything. i feel like most of the time i try to write i focus too much on the manipulation and forget to include any horny shit lol. i just feel like if i were forcemascing someone i'd need to convince him that it's all for him and his benefit and if i'm clearly getting off on it that kind of falls apart. like unless it's someone i'm already fucking it's hard for me to think of a good enough reason to start until he's already getting bottom growth. curse my need for my writing to make sense even if it's (meant to be) just porn

70/100

[steddieunderdogfics]

rec for trans characters theme weekend:

Below the Belt (Through My Chest) by sirencalls

Below the Belt (Through My Chest) by sirencalls

Rating: Explicit

3,573 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings Apply

Tags: Established Relationship, Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve Harrington, Drugs, Mildly Dubious Consent, Trans Male Character, Strap-Ons, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Grinding, Porn With Plot, Trans Eddie Munson, Unsafe Binding Practices, one use of the word transsexual because i couldn’t find anything else that fit to the time period, i don’t know a lot about the history of the terminology despite my efforts to research :(, i’m not cis though so don’t get all mad in my comments

Summary:

While Eddie is eternally grateful that the universe had blessed him with a small chest, that doesn’t change the fact that all he wants to do is fuck his boyfriend, but he’s unfortunately lacking in the department of having a genuine, USDA certified dick. He’s been getting Steve off with his fingers and tongue since they got together, and it’s not like Steve has had any complaints—quite the contrary, in fact—but Eddie just has this itch he needs to scratch.

Thanks for the rec!

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks!

[solarmorrigan]

Hands Where I Can See Them, part 11.5 [Rated E]

Optional smut continuation of part 11. Full chapter under the cut, click through at your own discretion. Read here on Ao3

[Warnings/Tags: very mild d/s dynamics (like. super mild, mentioning it just to be safe), unsafe sex, slightly possessive behavior (welcomed), rimming, anal fingering, anal sex, bottom!Steve/top!Eddie]

This is far from the first time Eddie’s had Steve spread out beneath him in bed.

This isn’t the first time he’s had him naked, skin flushed, chest heaving, lips parted and kiss-swollen, staring up at Eddie with bright, eager eyes – and god (or whoever else) willing, it won’t be the last.

But something about it still feels new.

There’s an awareness now – and understanding that this isn’t just his friend Steve, that they aren’t just here to have a good time, to make each other feel good and then part ways. The man beneath him is his, as much as Eddie belongs to him in turn; there’s something solid between them now, heavy and binding and comforting in its weight.

Eddie looks down at Steve with the knowledge that Steve wants to be with him, only with him, that Steve loves him and is letting Eddie love him in return, and Eddie wants to devour him.

So he gives into the urge.

Kneeling between Steve’s thighs, Eddie leans in and presses his lips to the soft spot just behind the hinge of Steve’s jaw, kissing and licking and nipping his way down the length of his neck. Steve is sighing with it when Eddie reaches the crook of his shoulder, where he opens his mouth and bites down on the thick muscle beneath his lips.

“Ah!” Steve hisses and jerks beneath Eddie, but the arm that comes up around Eddie’s back only pulls him closer.

Of all the many varied things they’ve done in bed together, this is the one thing Eddie had always wanted that he’d never indulged: biting, marking.

Steve hadn’t been his, he’d reasoned, so the right to leave hickeys and bitemarks hadn’t belonged to him. Now, though – now, Eddie eases up on the pressure of his teeth and instead seals his lips over the tender skin, sucking hard enough to bruise.

Beneath him, Steve practically whines, hooking one leg up over Eddie’s hips and pulling him closer, grinding up against him. Eddie moans, rocking into the feeling of Steve’s cock rubbing against his, hard and hot and beginning to bead with precome, and he finally releases Steve’s neck, licking over the bruise before he goes.

Ducking down, Eddie mouths his way across Steve’s collarbones, over his chest, and latches onto a patch of skin just over where he estimates Steve’s heart should be, scraping the spot with his teeth before he sets to sucking in another mark.

“Fuck, Eddie,” Steve hisses, all but squirming under Eddie now.

Eddie pulls away, kissing the already-purpling bruise he’s left before looking up at Steve, taking in the dark flush that’s starting to spread down his neck, the wet shine of his lips as he pants for air, and he grins.

“Gonna tell me what you want, sweetheart?” he asks.

Steve licks his lips, nodding. “I want to feel you – want you inside,” he says, low and rough. “Fuck me, Eddie.”

Eddie groans, the words going straight to his cock. He’d been pretty certain of the answer, but it doesn’t pay to assume; they don’t do this every time, and it isn’t as though they never switch it up (Eddie can remember the last time Steve had fucked him; his knees sliding across the sheets with Steve’s big hands curled around his hips, holding him in place as his cock split him open, the pace slow and deep, until Eddie had been all but drooling into the mattress and coming with barely more than a couple of tugs to his cock), but four times out of five, if they fuck, it’s Steve on the bottom.

They’d discovered together how sensitive he is, how he melts for just a couple of fingers inside of him, how he’ll practically scream if he’s fucked just right, how responsive he is if someone lays him back and doesn’t let him think.

Steve loves the feeling of being taken care of, of being filled and so obviously wanted, and Eddie– Eddie can’t think of a single damn thing better than the feeling of those thick thighs wrapped around his waist, shaking with the pleasure that Eddie is providing, or the sight of that strong back curved down in offering, waiting for Eddie to take him apart.

There’s nothing Eddie wants in the world as much as he wants to make Steve feel good right now, and he plans on pulling out every little thing he’s learned in the months they’d spent having—as Steve had said—a lot of sex in order to do just that.

“Anything you want, Steve,” Eddie croons – and he fucking means it. He scoots away and pats Steve’s hip before instructing him with a little twirl of his finger, “Over. On your knees, baby.”

While Steve twists on top of the covers, moving to obey, Eddie stretches for the bedside drawer, reaching in for the lube and condoms that are still right where he expects them to be, even though it’s been a couple of months since he’s had occasion to even be near them.

He turns back to find Steve waiting for him on his hands and knees, watching with anticipation, and Eddie shakes his head.

“Not quite what I meant,” he says, dropping the lube and condom on the bed before moving one hand to cup the back of Steve’s neck and press down gently. “Just your knees.”

And just like that, Steve goes down, shoulders braced on the bed, face half-buried in a pillow, allowing himself to be bent and molded to Eddie’s specifications, trusting Eddie to give him what he needs – and Eddie very much intends on delivering.

He presses a kiss to the base of Steve’s spine and runs his hands up the backs of his thighs, coming to cup his ass in his palms. He allows himself one indulgent squeeze to those soft handfuls before pressing his thumbs between Steve’s cheeks and spreading him open, exposing his tight, pink hole.

The breath Steve lets out is audible, sharp and anticipatory as Eddie leans in and blows a teasing stream of air over him before, with no further warning, he licks a thick stripe up from balls to tailbone.

“Unh-!” Steve sounds surprised, but the noise that comes from deep in his chest is no less pleasured for it. “Fuck, Eddie–”

Eddie hums and aims another broad lick right across Steve’s hole, and from there, the noises don’t stop. Eddie’s always loved eating Steve out for exactly this reason – it drives him crazy. He gets loud and squirmy and, if Eddie keeps at it long enough, teary and desperate. He’s so sensitive, so responsive, and Eddie fucking eats it up.

(So to say.)

He progresses from teasing strokes with the flat of his tongue to testing probes with the tip, and Steve answers him beautifully, pressing his ass back towards Eddie with a whine. Eddie obliges the unspoken request, sliding his tongue past the tight ring of muscle, and Steve shouts.

“Shit! Ah, ah–” He thrusts back, the arch of his spine curving deeper, hands fisting the comforter as he tries to get closer while Eddie fucks him with his tongue. “God, Eddie, please.”

Eddie wonders, not for the first time, if he could get Steve to come on his tongue alone, but now isn’t the time to find out. Instead, he pulls away to reach for the lube, ignoring the little sob of air Steve lets out as he goes; he’ll be back soon enough.

He drizzles some lube out into his hand, spreading it between his fingers and thumb, warming it just a little before he’s spreading Steve open with his dry hand and rubbing his thumb over his hole. He’s already a little puffy, flesh still wet from Eddie’s tongue, and he opens up beautifully, taking Eddie’s thumb all the way to the last knuckle with a long, low groan.

“God, look at you,” Eddie says, twisting his hand and feeling the silky heat against the pad of his thumb. “Take me so beautifully, it’s like I belong inside you.”

“Yeah.” Steve nods rapidly against the pillow. “God, yes, you – ohfuck!”

Eddie smirks as he hooks thumb inside of Steve and tugs, gently but inexorably stretching him wider, watching as Steve bucks back into the feeling. He ducks back down and shoves his tongue into the space he’s making for himself, and listens to Steve cry out.

Eventually, Eddie’s thumb is replaced by two fingers, and by the time he gets to three, Steve is all but sobbing, shifting restlessly as if his body can’t decide whether it wants to drive further into the pleasure or if it wants to escape Eddie and the relentless way he’s been stroking Steve’s prostate for the last minute.

“I’m – ‘m gonna – fuck, Eddie, fuck me, please,” Steve begs, legs shaking and hips canting towards Eddie still, like he just can’t help himself.

Gently, Eddie slides his fingers out, pressing another kiss to the tip of his tailbone as he goes. “Back over for me, sweetheart,” he says. “I wanna see your pretty face.”

“Starting… to feel like a dog,” Steve pants as he flops onto his side and then turns over onto his back, “the way you keep ordering me to roll over. Gonna tell me to sit and stay next?”

“Well, you are a very good boy,” Eddie says, smirking at the predictable catch in Steve’s breath, the way he goes absolutely still for a moment; if the flush high on his cheeks could get any darker, Eddie’s willing to bet it would right now, but the way his cock twitches hard against his belly gives him away all the same.

Eddie doesn’t push it today—it’s something they can have fun with later, with the many, many laters he hopes there will be—and instead reaches for the condom he’d abandoned to the side of the bed.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, watching Eddie’s hands. “Was there – was there ever anyone else? While we…?”

“Oh, fuck, no,” Eddie rushes to assure him, fumbling and nearly dropping the condom packet when he reaches for one of Steve’s hands and grips it tight. “No. I mean, Jesus, Steve, I had you – even if I didn’t quite understand how I had you, why would I have wanted anyone else then?”

Steve gives a little shrug. “I didn’t think– I mean, I hoped not, but I just– thought I’d ask. Because if there hasn’t been, then… you don’t really need that.” He nods at the condom, still clutched in Eddie’s free hand. “If– if you don’t want.”

“You–” Eddie breaks off, choked for a second by the feeling of pure arousal that rises up in his chest. “You want me to?”

Steve nods at whatever meaning he takes from Eddie’s half-formed question and sits up to cup a hand around the back of Eddie’s neck, pulling him into a kiss.

“Wanna feel you. Nothing between us,” he murmurs as they break apart. He kisses the corner of Eddie’s mouth, his cheek, and then leans in to speak quietly, right into his ear, “You can come inside me, if you want.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Eddie practically lunges for the lube, flipping the cap open with an urgency he usually tries to keep in check. “If I want. If I want, he says!”

Laughing, Steve falls back against the pillows, watching through half-lidded eyes with satisfaction. “I mean, it kinda looks like you do,” he teases, and Eddie manages a breathless laugh as he’s stroking himself with one lube-slick hand.

“You’ve convinced me, Steve,” he says, aiming for dry but still sounding eager.

He positions himself between Steve’s thighs, guiding his cock until the tip is resting snug against Steve’s hole, and they both breathe sharp with the anticipation. But instead of pushing immediately in, Eddie leans up, taking Steve’s mouth in a kiss, deep and slick and consuming.

“I love you,” he says before they’ve really even pulled apart.

Steve’s expression goes soft at that, eyes wide with something that sparks like wonder. “I love you, too,” he answers, and Eddie grins.

He hopes that even if Steve says it a thousand times, he never gets used to hearing it. He wants it to feel like the first time, every time.

Slowly, he pushes forward, his mouth falling open at the heat squeezing around the head of his cock. Oh, he’s missed this – he’d missed everything about Steve, of course he had, but fuck if he hasn’t missed the way his body welcomes him in, grips him tight like it never wants him to leave.

He’s missed Steve’s fingers digging little bruises into his arms or his shoulders, missed the way his hair frizzes out across the pillow as he tosses his head back, missed the almost feverish gleam in his eyes when he’s close to coming – Eddie’s missed it all, and when he finally sinks in to the hilt, it feels like coming home.

“Oh, fuck, Steve,” Eddie breathes, pausing with his hands braced on Steve’s hips, wondering how long he’s even going to last.

“Move,” Steve all but demands, the desperation that had abated during their brief conversation returning with a vengeance. “Fuck, Eddie, please move.”

And Eddie had promised him anything he wants – he’s not about to deny him now. He pulls back, sliding almost all the way out before shoving back in, hard and fast the way that’s always made Steve light up in the past, and Steve doesn’t disappoint.

“Yes!” His back arches, hips bucking up to meet Eddie’s thrust. “God, just like that, Eddie, fuck.”

And fuck Eddie does, setting an unrelenting pace that pushes sweet noise after sweet noise out of Steve’s throat, hitting Eddie’s ears like music, like Steve is the best instrument he’ll ever learn to play. He’s not sure he can keep it up for long, but he’s not sure he’ll have to; Steve looks at least as far gone as he is, if not even closer to orgasm after all the time Eddie spent opening him up.

“God, fucking – perfect,” Steve hisses, his hands coming down to cover Eddie’s where they rest on his hips. “Always feel so fucking good.”

The hands over his own make Eddie pause, fully sheathed inside of Steve, panting and still for a moment. Then he takes his hands from Steve’s hips and instead twines their fingers together, leaning forward so he can brace their joined hands on the bed on either side of Steve’s head.

Steve clutches tightly at Eddie, letting out a delighted little noise that turns into a full-chested moan when Eddie pulls out and thrusts back in.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, aiming for the same spot again and getting an even louder noise for his effort. “Right there, baby?”

“Yes,” Steve gasps, his legs coming up around Eddie’s waist, encouraging him to thrust in harder, deeper. “Fuck, yes, yes, yes–!”

Eddie’s cock throbs, balls drawing up as he fucks faster into Steve, his rhythm going a bit sloppy. “Gonna come, baby? Just like this? Just my cock inside you?” He’s not sure if he’s teasing or if he’s begging, trying to make sure Steve is as close to the edge as he is. “Or are you gonna wait for me? Wait ‘til I come, ‘til you can feel me hot and wet inside you, so you know you’re mine–”

Steve arches up and comes with a wail, his cock untouched between them, spilling messy and slick across his belly and chest, and Eddie is fucking helpless to do anything but come after him.

He keeps thrusting, keeps grinding up into Steve until Steve’s noises become overstimulated little whines and Eddie is feeling a little raw himself. Carefully, he slides out, glancing down just in time to see a trickle of white follow him, leaking slowly down the inside of Steve’s thigh, and he wishes he could be ready to go again right this minute.

In lieu of that, he flops half onto the mattress and half on top of Steve, peppering breathless kisses across his shoulder, across his neck, over the hickey Eddie had left that’s already a livid shade of magenta, up his jaw and over his cheek, until Steve turns his head and catches him in a kiss that keeps him still for a long moment.

“That was different,” Steve says quietly when they part. “I mean, it was good! It was great, it was just… it felt different.”

“Told you: you’re mine. And I’m yours. And now we’re both fully aware.” Eddie kisses Steve on the cheek, then pauses as he’s hit with a thought. “Oh damn, do you think we just made love or some shit?”

Steve snorts. “I’m not sure making love involves getting turned on by watching your own jizz leak out of my ass,” he says, in a tone that very much implies ‘don’t think I didn’t notice.’

“Boo, that sounds boring,” Eddie says, very much ignoring Steve’s tone. “How about we say that we fucked with love?”

“How about we don’t.”

“Amorous fucking.”

“No.”

“Sweet, sensual sodomy.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Steve laughs, crashing his mouth against Eddie’s in something that might have been a kiss if they hadn’t both been grinning. “I love you.”

“Yeah? I guess that works: We fucked, also we’re in love,” Eddie declares, and Steve rolls his eyes.

“I guess that works, yeah,” he says quietly, smiling, still, and finally–

Eddie feels like he got it right.

-

No tag list on this one because I didn't know for sure who'd be comfortable with it, sorry!

[cricky-butspicy]

How would creatures and slashers react to the reader having a binder on to long

I’m just thinking about how confused creatures would be because why is destinedmate wearing something that could hurt them if kept on too long

Remember everyone, practice safe binding habits or I’m crawling out of your closet to take care of you and MAKE you practice safe binding habits. Seriously, don't fuck around with unsafe binding methods or practices; you will pay for it. Be good to your body <3

Better hope you are wearing a well made, proper fitting binder in the first place (or maybe not your good one for these scenarios,) because either way, neither parties react well to good ones being kept on too long, let alone bad ones.

The creatures notice it with your breathing. It looks, constricted. They don’t bring it up at first. Maybe you are taking tiny scared breaths around them because they make you nervous like a prey animal around a predator instead of the full breaths of a human. But that doesn’t last long if they notice you are comfortable in all other ways. It’s just your chest not fully expanding when you breathe. It concerns them. You should be taking better breaths. Sun asks about it. He may even feel around the area and notice it feels tight, even if you swat at him not to touch you there. He doesn’t understand. He's feeling to see what's wrong.

“Breathe? Can breathe? No? Breathing wrong? Something tight?”

He can feel the binder, and may try messing with it through your clothes to make it stretch, but he notices, it doesn't really do that all that well. You can assure him all you want that it’s fine, but he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like it looking like you are struggling to do something as natural as breathing, but he doesn’t know how to help with that. He might come back and ask.

"Off? Take off cloth hard to breathe in? Hurt. Could hurt!"

With more assurance, he'll leave you alone on it, but he won't be happy. He's noticeably less bubbly and joyful. He seems cautious, and he's looking at you a lot. He knows you are wearing something that isn't good for you (even if he doesn't understand that it's only because you aren't following the proper way to wear it.)

Moon would probably notice what happens when you keep a binder on too long first. He smells the blood being changed. Irritated skin with bad chaffing that can cause broken skin and minor bleeding, bruising of the ribs and surrounding area of your chest, troubles breathing and faintness. Moon realizes you have something on you that is hurting you.

Unfortunately for you (and that binder,) Moon doesn’t take kindly to something hurting you, even if it’s your choice to have it on. He doesn’t really get that. He’s tearing it off kind of suddenly, no matter how badly you try to stop him or tell him it’s just a binder or that he’s wrecking your clothes. He finds something hurting you, something he can remove, like a tick, and he rips that sucker off to shreds and watches for you to take a full breath once it’s off. And when you do, he almost seems relieved that you can take a full breath. But it’s hard. Changes to your blood and its flow can be hard for him and Sun to handle, especially if there is blood in the out open air for them to get good whiffs of, so he might just stare down at you like a meal for a second. He gets a hold of himself quick enough, and he looks down at you while asking.

“Why wear? Ouch? Hurt. Cloth hurt chest. Bound like snake. Why wear?”

You can try to explain, but they don’t get it. You wear something to bind your chest tight, but it’s bad for you? It helps your mental health and makes you feel like you? But it hurts and causes damage. You tell them only if it’s done wrong. They bring up that you are doing it wrong then and that you shouldn't do that. You have to do it right.

They are just creatures. They don’t know any better. You’ll have to spend a lot of time explaining this one to them, specifically wearing a binder that can hurt you. They can understand that you don't want to look the way you do. It's not you. They'll offer making a deal with the Fae for you. They won't want to, but they'll do it! But let them make the deal. Fae are tricky, and humans aren't specific enough when making their deals to make sure nothing mischievous happens when making the deal. But they beg you not to do that again and to be more careful. They don't want their destined mate hurt.

Before I start on the Slashers, a fun fact! Did you know they both keep pocket knives of them? :) Soleil's is more of a multi-tool, so not an official pocket knife, but it has a decent knife on it when he needs it while Atlas's is a high quality, button lock folding pocket knife. It's medium sized and had a dark blue handle. He hardly ever uses it, but he does keep it in his back pocket almost at all times while Soleil tends to keep his multi-tool knife in whatever bag he's carrying around! If no bag, he sometimes keeps it in a pocket if he feels the need to have it! (like walking you home at night.)

(Rip to your binder again, sorry, safety first, and my Moon characters, are a little intense/insane.)

Soleil and Atlas probably find out about your binder early on. They don't care about you wearing one, but they do ask questions about the quality of it. They know some can get sketchy. Soleil also asks if you have more than one. He worries about the cleanliness of wearing one all of the time.

If it is a "one all of the time" sort of deal, Soleil begs you to let him buy you more so you can wash them regularly. And he begs that he does some research on them either alone or with you beforehand to make sure he's getting you the safest one he can get for you while also having it be one you are comfortable with. It's a team effort. Any DIY or bad substitutes are thrown out the window with them immediately. They make sure you have high-quality, safe binders and Soleil researches the HELL out of them to make sure they are being worn correctly and safely by you.

That means the standard safety measures. No sleeping in it, wearing it less than 8 hours with at least one 15+ minute break at the 4 hour mark to do some breathing exercises and stretches, (he might let you get away with 10 if you've done two or more 15+ minute breaks and haven't had the chance to take it off again, (because it's technically 8 or less preferred, can push to 10, but absolutely must take off at up to 12 for regular chest binding because 10+ is dangerous with standard binders and over 12 is a safety hazard. It must come off.) It's too constricting if you do it for 12+ hours, and if you do that, you are banned from your binder for a few days to recover) making sure you take breaks from everyday use to change into an either less constricting binder or just something that will lightly compress your chest so your ribcage can get a break, proper binder washing and cleaning, and proper body care around them. Also the solid rule of "if it starts to hurt, TAKE IT OFF."

Usually, Soleil is very good about reminding you that "Hey, maybe it's time to take a breathing and stretching break? I know you don't like it, but it's been on long enough. It's time to take it off for awhile."

He and Atlas don't mind you borrowing something baggy to cover yourself in while you take your breaks. Hell, if they need to, Soleil will make sure they have sports/light compression bras of your choosing at their house so they make sure you don't have to wear your binder all of the time and can get more breaks.

If you've worn one for too long, and Soleil has caught on to that? SCOLDED. You are getting scolded and pushed to a bathroom for you to change yourself out of it. If you won't change yourself, he's sending Attie in after you! Jail! Jail for Sunshine 1000 years! But in all seriousness, he's worried about your health and doesn't want you hurting yourself. It's important to him that if you are going to do this so that you are comfortable and feel more like you, that you do it the proper way. They'll help you if you want to actually get top surgery one day or gender reaffirming surgery, but you need to be safe until they can help you do that.

Atlas, really doesn't pay much attention to your binding habits. He leaves that to his overthinking boyfriend, Soleil. But if he starts catching on to your body giving him vibes like you are uncomfortable or are in pain, he's going to notice and he's going to ask.

"What's up? Is something bothering you? You look uncomfortable."

And maybe you can get away with telling him nothing the first time. But if you continue to give him those signs of discomfort and maybe even gain one like odd breathing, he's going to catching on, and he won't be happy. Especially if you start coughing or your breathing gets unstable. Atlas might get a little intense about it, and in those moments, you have no choice but to let him drag you off to the bathroom as he starts to try and undress you quickly while he scolds you about wearing the binder for too long.

And almost like he and his creature counterpart have something in common, when he sees the article of clothing, Atlas says this thing needs to come off you, and he isn't fucking around trying to wiggle you out of it when you look like you might pass out.

Say goodbye to that binder and hello to Atlas's handy-dandy pocket knife that I warned you of earlier. You can try to tell him not to cut it off and that you can wiggle it off, but he won't listen.

“I’ll buy you a new one, this one needs off now.”

If you try to tell him you’ll feel dysphoric he’ll come back.

“You can wear my hoodie. It’s not the same, I know, but you can’t wear this any longer, and I can’t wrestle this fucker off right now. I’m getting it off.”

And there goes your binder, cut up and off of you with a very irritated Atlas looking at you while trying to look your body over for any signs of harm. If he finds any, he's glaring at you for a second before sighing and helping you through a few stretches and breathing exercises before tugging off his sweatshirt so you can wear it like he promised. He also promises to patch you up at home after you promise to take a shower to clean any chaffing or rash burns.

They get it. They want you to feel authentic and happy with your body, too. You can't put yourself in danger doing it though. They care too much for you to be wearing it for 12+ hours and bruising the hell out of your ribs and passing out from binding too long. Do it safely, and they have no qualms and they'll let you do your own thing.