#nonbinary character too

[yelenabelovaautism]

ironheart is really really good

[l0id-0nline]

Transgender allegory? In my digital circus? It's more likely than you think...

Edit: I know they cannonically use any pronouns, I meant that their relationship with body dysmorphia is not about being trans. They feel uncomfortable in a body that is not theirs, and this narrative is often used by trans people to describe their discomfort with their body. In Zooble's case, they are trapped in a digital avatar. That is why I called it an allegory, since Zooble's dysphoria is not directly about being trans.

[samstarium]

nb aziraphale icons! all art is from hg-aneh (2/?)

transparents under the cut

[montygatorguy]

people using he/him pronouns for wembley electra will forever piss me off. they’re the one iteration of electra that CANONICALLY uses they/them. even motherfucking greaseball doesn’t misgender them like come on.

[shimada-death]

Ed not only being Non-binary but also transitioning along the story is really cool and something i have barely seen in other media (esp fem presenting nb) but i think deep down their current stance is just a culmination of their wish to being "someone else" while also being unable to

They were "adopted" by the Guerras yet after the divorce Angel never cared for them, he only has Isabel's custody and doesn't seem to be bothered for this. Francisco calls them a freeloader and they never call any of them "family" even if they legally are

Yet they're still asked to fill the "older brother" role for Isabel

This has led to Ed seeing Isabel has their only link to their family, even if they hadn't realized it yet. With that in mind their mental breakdown in chapter 5 changes a lot. It's not about "losing a friend", deep down it's about not filling the only role they've been asked to.

When they aren't asked to be"the older brother" then they're "the Burger's son", a living memento and reminder of their parent's disappearence

Bruce and Gwen don't really mean anything to Ed since they were too little to remember them, but they're asked to be on a constant mourning, Spender remembers all of the club members yet the only thing he can share about Ed is that they're the Doctor's child and what it means to his relationship with the doctors

This roles are no problem for them, they like to fill the mold that people assign to them after all

But they have become a core part of their identity. And when Ed starts questioning their gender identity they start to question why they can't fill those roles too.

And the wish has come true! they're someone else! they're smart and cute and aren't lacking anything in particular! They've broken the mold!

But that "someone else" is still the kid who wishes to fill the "Isabel's sibling" and "Burger's child" because Ed has entangled those concepts so tight to their identity and self that they can't imagine a version of themself without them.

Ed's identity as a whole has been what others have built for them and they have just accepted to be the reflection of that, realizing they're non-binary and be open about that (even with a big push from the wish) has been the first step to unbuild all of it, but they still need a lot of reconstruction to do which i think they're currently not smart enough to see.

[bulbasauryeee]

i will never stop thinking about the fact that kris dreemurr, protagonist of one of the biggest and most influential indie games of all time, is openly and undeniably nonbinary/gnc. not nonbinary to be singled out, not nonbinary because they're non-human/non-living, not nonbinary to show that they lack personality... just nonbinary for the sake of being nonbinary. and they're the main protagonist!!! it's so cool

and the fact that they're treated the same as everyone else for it and it's not a huge deal to anyone. the fact that everyone in that game, no matter how opposed to them they are, never misgenders them. never finds it weird. never sees them as lesser than for it. kris is in fact seen by many as an important person to be respected; a hero

i knowwww people say this stuff all the time and it's such a small thing (kinda) but god it really does mean the entire world to have representation like this

[bastart13]

In season 4, we get to meet some new fairies! Caligo Hawkeye, spymaster and sibling to the Fairy Councillor, and Elder Lightwing, grandmother to Sophie and Solaire

[cosmicredcadet]

"This fandom is so queer friendly!" This fandom literally hates, bisexual, trans, nonbinary, and aspec people but ok.

[aashidoodles]

Drew some of the main digimon cybersleuth girlies

[nadiajustbe]

The other thing I immensely love about Bartimaeus of Uruk is how inhuman he is. Usually in media authors tend to "humanise" inhuman characters, by giving them stable human appearance or/and character traits. This vampire is actually a 17yo guy. This devil is a 30yo man. This magical god is a always teenage girl and they act accordingly. This is an easy route. Johnathan Stroud doesn't chose it.

Bartimaeus is not a woman but nor he is a man (even despite using he/him pronounce primarily it is canon all spirits are genderless out of nature, some just stend to stick more to one gender than the other). Sure he is not a "child" but nor he is an "adult", because he was never a human in the first place and was never fully presented as either of this. He doesn't devide love in platonic and romantic and doesn't feel a need to clarify. He struggles to explains the way he thinks and difficult for it to translate it to a human reader. He doesn't act as someone of a particular age in "human" understanding as well. He knows thousands of languages and switches between them. He loves humanity and yet still has an unique outside perception of it because he's not a human. He doesn't fit in any of human boxes to check, he's everything and nothing at once. He can look an act of any age or gender or feeling and perhaps fit none of those in your mind.

And this gives so much freedom for creating and fanfiction. Go on make him a young adult college student! Make him a middle aged man who has thousands of jobs! Make him a fourteen year old Ptolemy's twin! Create an AU where he as an anger or a cupid or an ageless God and none of it would be OOC to him! Human!Bartimaeus can be a traveler, a performer, a coffee shop barista, a hired killer! Perhaps don't make him a human at all, what If he is a tired cat who Kitty feeds on her way to work in a shop?

The possibilities are endless because instead of being a human with some cool flashing eyes and superpowers he is not actually a human. He's Bartimaeus of Uruk and that's it.

[drainage-system]

they put in stars and time in the woke content detector im crying

funny how they dont even mention isabeau trans or mirabelle aroace or anything. Also i was expecting it to mention that the character profiles list the characters' pronouns too

[rosecandyart]

Happy Pride Month 🏳️‍🌈 Never be afraid to be who you are

[nomazee]

dan heng x gn reader — 1.6k — long overdue continuation of my dumb delinquent au (and the two remaining fans cheer in delight), high school au, probably very americanized, probably ooc, very super incredibly vague implications to sad things but it's so blink-and-you'll-miss-it, himeko is dan heng's adoptive guardian in this au, do u guys hate me for the hoops i'm jumping through to squeeze every character in this au, reluctant friends-to-crush-to-lovers fast/slow burn unbearable unspoken feelings trope

drabble no. 1 of this series/universe, u should probably read this first heh...

notes: hi guys, i'm back after taking yet another unplanned year-long hiatus, hope u missed me! (the crowd stays quiet) i bring u another delinquent au drabble because the worms got to me and i couldn't help it OK, OKAY?!?! enjoy! :3

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

Dan Heng hasn’t seen much of you in the last week. 

It’s unusual, he defends his worries to himself, very unusual. Despite not having a single class with you, he sees you often. In the last few months since he’s known you, he’s seen you at least three times a week after school, sometimes bloody and other times free of any injury, but the point is, he sees you. Talks to you, lets you walk him home (and pointedly doesn’t let you take him to any antique stores or overpriced tea shops on the way there). 

Today is Friday, and the fifth day straight that he’s stood in the courtyard behind the school for thirty minutes after dismissal, waiting for you to show up, appearing in a breeze of glitter and dust like a poorly-practiced magician. It’s the fifth day straight that you haven’t shown up, and he’s starting to realize how paradoxical your friendship feels. 

Dan Heng is hesitant to even call it a friendship. It feels weird—it’s like he’s known you for years, like he’s grown up with you on the same block in the same neighborhood, except in truth he’s only known you for three months, and he just learned your birthday last week after (embarrassingly) prying it out of you. He doesn’t know where you live, which front door to knock on so that he can check up on you, he doesn’t even have your phone number. All he can do is circle the perimeter of school grounds, waiting for you to show up, or looking for a top hat somewhere so he can pull you up out of it like he’s the poorly-practiced magician and you’re the bunny that he’s unethically shoved into a top hat. 

Luckily for him, though, fifth time’s the charm, and on his (miserable, lonely) walk home, he bumps into you as he rounds the corner to his block. Like, really bumps into you.

He hears a semi-familiar shout of horror as he stumbles back, the sudden slam of pressure on his nose making his eyes water, and he clasps his hands over his nose (it doesn’t hurt that bad, he swears), and then your hands are grabbing his shoulder and giving him a firm shake before he can even process that it’s you he’s just stumbled into. 

“Oh!” You shout, and he registers the tilt of your head through his watery, cloudy vision, “It’s you! I was looking for you.”

Dan Heng feels like— laughing, dryly, or maybe grabbing your shoulders back and shaking you until you reflect on how ridiculous you sound—as if he wasn’t the one wandering school grounds for an hour each day for the last week in search of you, like a lost dog, and god he really hopes no one caught him doing that, but at the very least March 7th definitely saw him, which means it’s going to hit the rest of his social circle eventually and he’ll have to hang his head in shame and stay silent when all his friends ask him why he was moping for five days straight. 

“Looking for me?” he mumbles, repeating your words instead of coming up with a thought of his own because he’s still sort of reeling from the sudden sight of you and the buzzing ache in his nose. “Am I bleeding?” 

“Oh,” you say, yet again, and he feels your hands take his wrists and pull them away from his face so that you can get a good glimpse of him. “Nope, no blood. Thank god. I’d feel really bad if I had to return you to Himeko with your face mangled.” 

“Return me,” he echoes again, and in two seconds flat he sobers up and straightens his posture and finally gets a good look at your face. “What? Where have you been?” 

“Around,” you answer vaguely, like you always do, and Dan Heng is now half a step closer to actually shaking you by your shoulders and turning you upside down until the truth falls out of your pockets like cartoon coins. “I’m back now, though! I wasn’t going to get a perfect attendance award anyways, so it’s kind of whatever.” Your lips quirk up into a stupid smile, and your eyes are scanning his face and his potentially bruised nose bridge. “Did you miss me?” 

“Yeah,” he admits, like an idiot, and he unfortunately doesn’t miss the sudden stalling of your expression, the way your smile freezes for half a second and the twitch in your brow. “No,” he quickly rights, but it’s a moot point by now, “whatever. What do you mean, around? Have you been at school at all this week?” He finally looks down at your clothes, which are very much not any kind of school-uniform-adjacent garb, but rather a collared shirt with some kind of logo on the top left. 

“I’ve been working,” you say, and it’s maybe the most honest and straightforward answer that Dan Heng will ever get from you, so he relishes in it for a moment. “You know, a job. Have you heard of that before? Jobs? Employment?” 

“That’s allowed? Are we allowed to work?” 

“Well,” and you do it again, glance off to the side before coming back to him, “I hope so. I’m not looking to quit this job so soon. They hired me, so it’s all good. I just had to miss school this week so they could train me, but I’ll be back on Monday. You’ll get your daily dose of me again soon, don’t worry!” 

Working. Dan Heng doesn’t know much about your schedule, what you do after school besides annoy him and walk him home and get into fights with seemingly invisible and untraceable and unnameable people, but this feels like one more piece in a thousand-piece puzzle where half the pieces have been drenched in water and bent. He feels two steps away from knowing more about you at the same time that he feels miles away. 

“I’m at the movie theatre,” you tell him, “so you should come visit with your friends some day. Four to ten P.M. on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. You can introduce me to your friends properly, you know,” and you have that nearly-tense, nearly-dishonest quirk of your lips, and you’re looking right at him like you’re trying to tell him something without saying it, “unless you’re too embarrassed to let them meet me.” 

This is not the first time you’ve said things like this, not by a long shot. Dan Heng thinks back, and is sure that you say something along the lines of aren’t you embarrassed at least once for every two times that he talks to you. Scared you’ll get caught with me? you asked him just last week, like being with you was a surefire way to get cursed or shunned or ostracized. Dan Heng doesn't get it, and it doesn't sound like you want him to. 

“No,” he says, steadfast, realizing belatedly that your hands are still around his wrists from when you’d tugged them down off his face, and his skin beneath your fingers is heating up rapidly, but so are the tips of his ears. “That’s not it,” and he really doesn’t have the strength to say anything deeper than that, so he dodges, “what were you doing on my street? Did you go to my house?” 

You’ve been caught. Sheepishly, you let go of his wrists, one hand going up to scratch the back of your neck instead, looking at his neighbor’s dead half-dead rose bush next to the sidewalk. “I kind of figured maybe I’d check in on you, or something. Ask to hang out. But when I came at three, you weren’t home yet, so I just kind of hung out with your mom. I was leaving just now. Figured you were busy, or something?” 

It’s an open-ended question, one that Dan Heng is very unwilling to honestly answer—if he did, he’d have to admit that the task that was oh-so-arduously occupying his time after school was sitting in the courtyard like a grieving wife waiting for her spouse to come home from war. He shakes his head instead of explaining anything—that should be enough of an answer. 

“She gave me cookies,” you continue in lieu of a real response from Dan Heng. “Seriously, am I the only one that eats them, or am I, like, stealing your only source of food every time I come over?” 

“The first one. I hate those things. They’re dry. I don’t understand how you eat them like that.” 

“Woah! Rude! Whatever, more for me. Hey, you’ll help me with all that schoolwork I missed, right?” You punch him in the shoulder playfully, which might’ve knocked the wind out of him had it been aimed any closer at his sternum. “I think we have almost all the same teachers. And I'm a quick learner, so it won't be so bad for you."

“Fine,” he says with a faux reluctance that would really only be convincing to a child, “I can walk you home.” 

“Haha,” and you punch his shoulder again, soothing it this time with a pat before you trail your hand up to the side of his neck, clasping the side of it with your warm palm, like you’re holding his pulse in your hand, and Dan Heng holds his breath so you won’t easily feel the rapid thump of blood underneath his skin, “maybe next time, champ.” 

You’re smiling again, laughing when you look at the paling expression on his face, like you know something he doesn’t, and he barely has time to feel disappointed at your easy rejection before you laugh, breathy, one more time, and say goodbye. 

(Himeko, to Dan Heng’s utter misery, hounds him for “details, the whole story, what did they say, Heng?!” the second he steps into the threshold of his house, keys still dangling from his hand. Terrible, awful, miserable. He does in fact, tell her everything.)

[samstarium]

nb crowley icon fest! all art is from hg-aneh (3/?)

transparents under the cut

[ulteri0rm0tives]

It's every iteration.

It's every iteration of V that will always find Johnny. Every iteration of V that Johnny grows to care about. It's every iteration of each other, in every universe, that will always find each other. They'll always become inseparable, tied together in unfathomable ways. Ways they could never truly unravel from each other in the end, no matter the end.

They'll always be destined for one another. No matter what face is worn. No matter what universe. No matter what, they're always meant to be. No matter what, the stars will always align for them, just to come crashing down from the sky.

[joshuamj]

In Stars And Time? More like In Ace And Gender

+ some alts