#with top surgery scars in real life before

[sleep-nurse]

Can we please get lore? /nf or anything ofc I just love the way you write lore

OUGHHHHHHHH ok well in short. regarding himawari and willow in simple terms willow is literally just a redesign of himawari which was my old sona but i decided to do some interesting lore shit with it

and that shit being the fact that willow was created by himawari in the nothingness (a place in the realm i don't think i really mentioned yet........god it's so hard to explain lore here cus i practically said nothing about the world) because himawari was ''the creator'', and then she gave him her core/soul so that he could be the '''''new himawari'''''', alongside this she gave him another core from someone who we will later find out (probably). after this she decided to stab herself in the chest in front of him so that the timeline would reset but without her and with willow instead, so that he would become the new creator (basically sona). the thing is this shit was fucking traumatising because willow can't help but think this was all his fault even though this was what himawari wanted

[punkbarbarian]

for folks who don’t follow them on instagram— ally beardsley wrote part of an op-ed in the washington post for the 50th dnd anniversary about a moment playing dnd that really stuck with them and i wanted to share it here!

“a character’s journey — and my own”

I was an aspiring comedian in Los Angeles and had just landed a salaried job at the comedy website CollegeHumor. My co-worker and friend Brennan Lee Mulligan was looking for six comedians to create a show that would be like an at-home game of D&D. Why not? “Dimension 20” became a weird punctuation to my day.

I remember there being too many rules to remember. I kept turning to my friend, Brian Murphy, to ask which dice I should be rolling. I wasn’t paid overtime, but I loved the group and was having a lot of fun.

For the second season, I had my sea legs. I created a character for the campaign who was transgender. I had started going by the gender neutral they/them pronouns at work and among friends, but sourcing hormones or getting surgery seemed equal parts expensive and invasive. A fun thing about fantasy is stripping away the crunchy, real-world limitations and asking yourself: “What would I do if I could do anything?”

That season’s arc for my character, Pete, was extremely euphoric for me. I had described him as a trans cowboy you might see at Burning Man, and the artist drew him dressed as a freaky Hunter S. Thompson in an open shirt to show his top surgery scars. He has wild magic — uncontrollable and dangerous in the game mechanics — which we used to explore the painful chaos of leaving a family that doesn’t accept you.

Since then, I’ve started testosterone HRT and had top surgery. It’s funny to listen back to myself playing a character who had transitioned in ways I hadn’t. It’s full of inaccuracies that make me smile. Pete takes a testosterone pill every day; I now know it’s a weekly injection or a topical gel. I see my face, one wrapped up in playing something so new but instantly right. It was like an oracle. A near-future me who has health insurance! Who’s talked to their mom about being trans and even spent a week post-top surgery on that mom’s couch in Temecula, Calif!

As I started transitioning my appearance, seeing that in front of the camera felt raw. I was starting hormones, and my voice was cracking. Realizing it was all being recorded felt naked at times, but it has been really nice to talk to fans and friends about how important it is to see someone that looks like you taking a big risk on themself.

With Pete, it was really important to me to tell a story other than the dramatic lead-up to a medical transition. So we started with him having just gotten out of surgery, but that’s all you see of that process. Part of his backstory is that he doesn’t have a relationship with his transphobic parents, and before shooting the first episode, I felt sick to my stomach. I’ve been on a journey with my parents, and our starting place didn’t have much common ground. When my character meets with his father, it felt as though I was actually running into my own on the street.

Brennan could sense that discomfort, and as my character’s dad was about to call Pete by his deadname, Brennan shut the interaction down, surrounding his dad with bubbles that carried him into the sky. Magic is the power and freedom to manipulate your reality, and you can banish the awful voices in your life — let them swirl away into the air.

[skauni]

They Had The Wrong Traitor….

!!WARNINGS!!: Torture, Explicit Descriptions, Gained Trauma, No Happy Ending.

They didn’t know.

How were they SUPPOSED to know..?

Two months ago, Task Force 1-4-1 realized they had a traitor amongst themselves. Someone giving information about them to Shadow Company. They didn’t know who, until all signs started to point to you. Since then has been hell.

They tied you to a cold metal chair with ropes so tight they rubbed your ankles and wrists raw. You still remembered the day it started. Waking up with a splitting headache in the cold, dim lighted, concrete room. A table in front of you. On it you saw a hammer, pliers, a metal bat, sets of knives—even a damn corkscrew.

That first day was hell. You shrieked at the top of your lungs that you were innocent as your main tormentor, Ghost, broke your fingers slowly. Knuckle. By. Knuckle. When you still didn't confess he took the pliers and slowly ripped your nails from your broken and mangled fingers. Making you scream louder in agony.

The rest of the days blurred. Hardly any food or water; just barely enough to keep you alive. Every time a wound scarred they re-opened it. Soap held your jaw open today as Ghost slowly ripped out your teeth. Your voice long gone from hours of shrieking before this. No fight left in you when their radio's crackled to life. "Soap, Ghost, hall. Now." Price spoke. His voice sounded uneasy.

When they left you tilted your head forward. Letting the blood from your removed teeth drip slowly from your lips. It was painful to breathe. Bruised, cracked, and maybe even broken ribs and a broken nose they kept targeting so it never healed. A broken hand and forearm from three harsh strikes of the hammer. Several deep gashes from some of the knives Ghost used on you. A dislocated kneecap from being bashed in by the metal bat.

You couldn’t hear what they talked about out in the hall. But you knew it was something shocking based on the dead silence that came after Price’s muffled voice. In all honesty, over these two months, you started thinking it was your fault this happened to you. Thinking it was your fault you were framed; you just made yourself too easy a target to frame as the traitor.

You heard rushing feet and the sound of vomiting in the trash can down the hall. You guessed Gaz since you heard Soap ask Price something, you heard Price’s gruff grunt and Ghost’s Manchester accent as he swore under his breath. Your eyes fluttered in exhaustion but snapped open on instinct as you heard the door open again. They’d caught the real traitor, a newer recruit who had everyone wrapped around her finger.

Price had entered the room.

“I didn’t do it…” You whispered hoarsely. Your captain nodded. “I know, Y/N… I know…” he whispered softly. You flinched as he unsheathed his knife from its holster, he moved slowly as he cut your hands and legs free. He tried to pick you up but you cried out. He carefully set you back down and radioed for a few medics. They arrived a short while later as Price kept you awake to be sure you couldn’t slip away before everyone could apologize at the very least.

The medics came soon enough and moved you carefully onto a gurney so as to avoid shattering any bones further. They moved you to the med bay as fast as possible to get your wounds tended to and disinfected. Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Price all sat outside of the med bay as they listened to your agonized shrieks and whales of pain from the medics setting your already healing knuckles back in place.

It took a few hours after your corrective knee surgery for the boys to be allowed to finally see you. The medics said you’d be out for a few days so your body could regain a small bit of strength. None of the team wanted to leave your side. They all had set themselves up so they could sleep by the cot the medics placed you on. In and out, they would individually go on missions or go in pairs so two of them could still keep their eyes on you incase you woke up.

A few days turned into a few weeks. And you finally woke up. But not as easily as the team would have wished. A cold sweat soaking your forehead as you groaned in agony in your sleep until you woke up shrieking and tried to curl into yourself for comfort, only causing yourself more pain. The boys had to pin you down so the medic could inject the pain killer.

Through the times you were awake, you refused to let any of them remotely try to touch you. They could see it. The distance you put between yourself and them. The distrust in your eyes. The anger and hurt in your furrowed brow. You had trusted them with your life. And now you were beginning to think you should have never let your guard down. Not for one damn second. But a small part of you thought it was somehow your own fault…

Gaz spent the most time with you. No touching, just trying to get you to talk. Even if in anger. He was slowly piecing your trust in him back together bit by bit. When physical therapy came around you asked him to help you because your knee hurt too much to do it alone and the medic seemed busy with another soldier. The rest of the team saw this, beginning to hope they had a chance at forgiveness as well. They weren’t aware that you never forgave Gaz. You just trusted him enough to count him as a person you will let help you. Not a friend. And not a teammate. Not anymore.

Soap was the second to earn the right to help you, then Price not too long after that. Ghost… was a different story. All he did was glare at you, as if he still thought you were the traitor. To which you returned the hostility. He hadn’t let it show, but he was devastated. He wished he’d have never believed that false evidence. He couldn’t even look at you because all he saw was his work etched into your body. That was why he glared. It wasn’t meant for you, it was directed at his work that scarred your body.

When you could walk on your own without crutches, you went to Price in the break room where everyone was. Expression cold and dead serious as you handed him resignation papers. He froze. “You can’t… we need you on this team Y/N—“ he started but you cut him off. “Need? Or want me here because you loathe yourselves so much you need me to reassure you that you’re forgiven with my presence?” He staggered back. “I never forgave any of you.” You added.

“There isn’t a day we’ve woken up without regretting—“ he tried again. “You don’t get to play that card! Do you know how many times I woke up crying in agony from wounds that are already healed because of you four!? Oh, or how about the fact I can’t stand to be touched by ANYONE anymore!” You snapped back. “Y/N…” Price started to beg. “No. I hate you. All of you. For what you did to me. Don’t even contact me. If you have something to tell me, keep it to yourselves.”

The team was silent. You walked to your barracks and packed. Booked a flight back to your hometown. And walked out the doors of the base. Giving none of them the time of day to apologize or try to fix things between you and them. You hadn’t even told them you neglected to sleep most nights out of fear someone would come out of the shadows and beat you half to death again…

[s0fter-sin]

i need ghoap frantically making out against a door finally taking the leap on their feelings. need ghost grinding against soap, expecting to find him just as hard as him, only to feel nothing

and in all his wisdom and experience, he concludes soap was tortured and never told him

he’s trying to think of a delicate way to say he understands, that he’s been through it and it doesn’t change anything about how he feels (and who the fuck touched him so he can hunt them down and rend them limb from limb)

meanwhile trans!soap’s just trying to find the best angle to grind his cunt on ghost’s thigh

just it never even entering ghost’s head bc he’s never known a trans person but he has met plenty of people who’ve been tortured - himself included - so of course that’s his logical leap

soap takes off his shirt and he sees his top surgery scars and ghost asks if he wants him to kill the one who did it and soap just hums like, “actually, man did pretty good, they healed real well,” and ghost’s just teary-eyes with awe at how well he’s coping, “looking on the bright side, that’s my johnny.”

imagine he thinks johnny was fully castrated but sees he’s determined to still have a sex life with him so he buys packers and straps to help him bc hell yeah healing and soap’s just like, “holy shit i’ve never had such a thoughtful partner before, such a sweet man, lt.”

[runnning-outof-time]

I’m Not Gonna Leave You | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @rangerelik

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: (Y/N)'s still having trouble with getting past her husband's injuries. Tommy assures his wife that he's not planning on leaving any time soon.

Warnings: nightmare, Tommy’s season 3 injury

Word Count: 1872

A/N: bit of a shorter one here….it was fun trying to work the prompts into the story - I hope it all makes sense. The prompts are italicized. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

(Y/N) threw the door to the townhome open, her heart beating so loudly that it was all that she could hear. "Ada!" she called out as she began looking in the front rooms, "Ada where are you?" her panic increased with each second as she wondered if the ambulance had come already. She wasn't sure if she wanted it to have or not.

She got her answer when she walked further into the main hallway and found her husband and sister-in-law sitting at the bottom of the stairs. Ada was trying to keep Tommy engaged while Tommy was trying with all he could not to let his head lull back and his eyes shut. "Oh no," she gasped, rushing over to where they were. "Tommy...Tommy, what's happened?" she frantically searched for his hand, wanting to hold onto it.

"I don't know what happened, (Y/N). He came here like this," Ada answered, her voice shaky, "he...he said that he had a fractured skull, a concussion and internal bleeding, and that he couldn't see," she then rattled off what Tommy had told her when he'd asked her to drive him to the hospital. She decided to call him an ambulance instead.

"(Y/N)..." Tommy stumbled over his wife's name as he tried to get it out with what little energy he had left.

"Tommy? What, what is it?" she quickly turned her attention to him, holding onto his hand tighter.

"I...I love you. You and the children...they, they mean so mu...so..." he stammered out, squeezing his eyes together and opening them again in hopes that he'd see her beautiful face, but everything was still black.

"No, no...you're not doing this. You're not saying goodbye," (Y/N) began choking on her cries once she realized what he was doing.

"I need to...I need to sleep," he panted out before he finally let his head drop, his body losing its tension as his grip on her hand went limp.

"No!," (Y/N) screamed, a wail leaving her body as she grabbed onto her husband's jacket, trying anything she could to get him to come back to her.

"(Y/N)..." Ada's voice came from her side, calmer than she should have been at that moment, "(Y/N)..."

"No, he's..he's..." she choked on her words, still trying desperately to get Tommy to stay with her.

"Wake up, (Y/N)," she heard before she was shaken awake. She noticed that she was in her dark bedroom as she sat up, gasping for breaths while trying to figure out fact from fiction.

"Tommy," she panted, looking over at him as she tried to calm her breathing, "you're...you're here."

"I am, love...I'm here," he nodded, speaking in a calming voice as his eyes searched over her face, "come 'ere," he said to her then, opening his arms so that she could fall into them.

She tucked her face into the crook of his neck and took a deep breath, inhaling his scent and repeatedly telling herself that he was still alive. Her hand traveled up from his shoulder to the top of his head, feeling the scar that was left over from his surgery. Feeling it made her heart hurt, but it reminded her that he'd survived...that what had happened in her nightmare wasn't how things went down in real life.

"Another nightmare?" Tommy asked her after she seemed to have calmed down.

"Yeah," she whispered, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. She finally felt like she could hold herself again. The shaking had calmed down and her mind wasn't running at a mile a minute.

She let go of him, sitting up straight in bed so that she could look at him. She studied his face for a few moments, as if she was committing it to memory, before she looked down at her lap.

"You ok?" Tommy broke the silence, watching her intently.

"I, uh..." (Y/N) trailed off, brushing her hair out of her face as she looked up again, "I'm going to go for a moment," she said then, moving the covers off of her body so that she could leave the bed. She was able to leave the room without being asked any questions, and that was something she was thankful for.

She found herself on the chaise lounge in her private study after checking to make sure that her children were still sleeping soundly. She stared at the ceiling as she laid back on the lounge, trying to focus on the sound of the crackling fire that one of the maids had just made for her. Trying to think of anything other than what she'd just gone through.

These nightmares had been playing out ever since Tommy's incident and subsequent surgery happened four months ago. He was home now, taking it slow and trying to work his way back to the level he was at before, but (Y/N) still worried that the effects of his injuries would persist and return. The doctors hadn't said that there wasn't a chance of that happening. No matter how many times he assured her that she was ok, she still worried for him. He would always tell her that he was ok, right? But yet the scene that she walked into at Ada's townhome that evening was still burned into her mind.

Thankfully the ambulance did show up in real life...and that they were able to get Tommy to the hospital and to the help he needed before he died on the steps. But the worst always happened in her nightmares, and that was something that she kept to herself; no matter how realistic they seemed. She didn't want to burden others with the horror of them.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting in there before there was a knock on the door. It opened shortly after and Tommy stepped into the room, sleep prevalent in his mannerisms from across the room. His hair was disheveled and his trousers were haphazardly pulled up over his legs, the henley shirt that he usually wore to bed half tucked in and half let out. (Y/N) couldn't stop her heart from squeezing at the sight. Some days it was still a mystery; how she'd managed to find herself a man like him.

"You've been away for a while," he said to her once he was standing in front of the lounge.

"I lost track of time," she replied, glancing up at him before she brought her knees up to her chest and hugged onto her legs while staring out at the fire in front of her. Tommy watched her do this, silently feeling out the climate; trying to decide if he should stick around or leave her be.

He made his decision by sitting down on the now empty spot of the lounge. Him doing so blocked the fire from (Y/N)'s line of view, making her look at him instead. "What are your nightmares about?" he decided to jump right to the question, "they may not be so bad if you talk about them."

"I don't want to burden you with it," she answered him, resting her chin on her kneecaps as a frown formed on her face.

"You wouldn't be, love," he shook his head slightly, "you know about mine...it's only fair you tell me yours. You don't need to worry about scaring me off. I'm not going anywhere, and you can try as hard as you want, but there's nothing you can say that's going to make me love you any less," he assured her then, his eyes soft as he spoke.

(Y/N) sucked in a deep breath after hearing Tommy's statement. She thought about all of the times throughout their relationship where he'd been the one needing to be woken up due to his nightmares. (Y/N) would sit up with him after each and every time; talking through what he'd experienced so that he'd get some clarity from the terrors he'd just gone through.

"They're always of the night that I found you at Ada's house...but you never make it long enough for the ambulance to arrive," she detailed the events of her nightmares, starting to get choked up just from thinking about them. Tommy furrowed his eyebrows as he listened to what she had to say. It was obvious that he was thinking over what she was telling him; putting the pieces together in his mind so that he'd have a thought out response for her when she was finished talking. She continued after taking another deep breath, "they make me think about the worst case scenario...about how things could have been had I lost you that night. And they make me think of how things could be if anything comes up as a result of your injuries."

"Nothing's gonna happen to me, (Y/N)," he assured her, his eyes locked onto hers as he spoke, "I'm not gonna leave you."

"We don't know that for certain. The doctor's said they couldn't rule out the possibility of there being lasting effects from these injuries...or the possibility of something happening to you after the fact," she rattled off her biggest fears, her mind being transported to that harrowing conversation they had with his team of doctors before he was discharged from the hospital.

"I'm going to try my damnedest not to let it happen," he told her, speaking with the utmost confidence. (Y/N) offered him a shaky smile in response. She wanted so bad to take his promise and let it override all of her worries, but no matter how hard she tried, that nagging voice in the back of her mind kept telling her to think the worst. "Hey...come 'ere," he said to her, realizing that she was at war with herself inside her mind again.

(Y/N) listened to him, scooting over on the lounge so that she could fall into his arms for the second time that night. She exhaled the breath she'd been holding as she allowed him to hold her tightly against him. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of her chest now.

"I'm not gonna leave you, (Y/N), ok?" he mumbled into her hair after some time had passed. (Y/N) finally lifted her head from his chest so that she could look at him again. Their eyes met and she instantly felt like all of her fears and worries were miles away. The slightest smile formed on her face as she nodded her head, showing him that she'd heard what he said and that she was going to hold onto that statement with all she could.

Tommy smiled softly at her, happy that she seemed more relaxed now than she did when they'd both been woken up by her nightmare. He leaned in and kissed her then, feeling her smile grow the second his lips met hers.

Tomorrow surely had another set of challenges coming with it, but (Y/N) wasn't going to worry about that now because, at least for tonight, things were ok.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[henrioo]

°•*⁀➷ NOT TODAY: ZORO AND SANJI

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "Married life with young children has several difficulties, one of which ends up being the lack of time for intimate and romantic moments. It looks like today you and your husbands will have a chance to work it out... Or not"

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : MILDLY SUGGESTIVE BUT NOTHING REAL, TRANS! MASC READER, TRANS! MALE READER, POLY RELATIONSHIP (Sanji and Zoro also date each other but it's not explicit), any mentions of pregnancy but the children look like you three so you can imagine what you want, married life, mentions about not having time for your children and partners, INTIMACY, SEXUAL TOUCHES (kissing and stuff), child wetting the bed

꒰ WC ꒱ : 1,4k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : So here another family fluff story, trying now to really go back posting so everyone can enjoy, I have a lot of stories finished so won't be a problem. Enjoy everyone, you know about fem and I thanks for the new followers I'm happy for having support in this hard time for me!

Finally, after an extremely long and tiring day at work, and with double effort of getting home and having to make up for your twins and give them all the attention you couldn't give them while you were away. You and your two husbands found yourself putting the twins in bed, finally able to take a nice hot shower and lie down on their huge bed full of blankets so they could sleep.

You were in the middle of the two men while Zoro was mumbling about muscle pain and Sanji was hugging your waist and hiding in your neck, Sanji always missed you more, since he was just at home taking care of the twins and unlike Zoro that arrived home in the afternoon, you only arrived home at night. So he always wanted to hug you a little and exchange a few kisses to satisfy the longing before you fell asleep peacefully.

You calmly stroked his blonde hair as you had your eyes closed and let your head start to relax to sleep, Zoro had one leg over yours and Sanji was curled up against you like a needy puppy, everything was exactly perfect in your perfect life with your two husbands and two wonderful daughters.

Usually the three of you slept considerably quickly, but today the mood was a little more… different. Sanji started kissing your neck, then he started with small bites and then his hand was going under your pajama shirt and starting to caress the scars from your top surgery. You mumbled a little sleepily as you opened your eyes to try and understand what your blonde husband was wanting.

“San?” You asked, a little confused about his touches, soon he was pressing his crotch against your leg.

“Dog in heat” Zoro teased and turned to grab you on the other side while staring at Sanji provocatively.

“Shut up idiot… I wasn’t the one who was jerking off in the bathroom moaning his name” Sanji huffed irritably and you smiled realizing that even after years of marriage these two still fought about everything.

“Well, I'm not the one wearing provocative clothes and sticking my ass out every time he comes over trying to get him to pay attention to me” he countered again and now they were both embarrassed for having their secrets exposed.

“Okay, okay, no fighting kids” you laughed and stroked their hair at the same time “What are you up to?”

“We miss you…” Sanji murmured and rubbed his nose against your neck while Zoro hugged your waist tightly.

"You've been a terrible husband, neglecting us..." Zoro said and bit his ear irritably.

“Sorry, I was trying to be the man of the house to support this needy housewife and the gym addict” You laughed, you always teased Sanji by calling him a housewife and you also liked to say that Zoro only pretended to work at a gym to work out all day. Of course there was no offense or criticism in this, especially because they both said that you were the impotent husband who was married to work and forced his wife to have a lover... although in this last part you were a little hurt at being called sexually impotent.

“Well… Now you managed to make two men very angry and excited” Sanji smiled mischievously as he inhaled your perfume.

“And you know that the majority always wins…” Zoro said laughing and soon you were sandwiched between the two strong men.

"Oh yes? So you two are going to make a sandwich with me and punish me for not paying attention to my perfect husbands?” You said, sighing as you felt their hands becoming bold as they began to touch you.

“Something like that…” Zoro whispered as he moved closer to finally kiss you and begin the fun.

Before you could finally make up for lost time and have a passionate and exciting night, small footsteps were heard in the hallway and the door was quickly pushed open completely. The door was always propped open in case your daughters needed to come after you during the night… And it seems that was exactly what had happened now.

You jumped in fright as you pushed the two men hard enough for them to let out groans of pain. You looked at the door and at two daughters illuminated by the hallway light that was always on. The two wore matching pajamas, although Sora's were green pajamas with yellow ducks and Kuina's were yellow with green trees. They both had blonde hair and Sanji's characteristic eyebrows, however, their skin tone was a mix of theirs and Zoro's.

Sora was sniffling and her face was swollen and wet as she carried the huge stuffed monkey she got from Luffy, while Kuina had a determined face and was holding her sister's hand tightly. They might be twins and be the same age, but Kuina always acted like an older sister for everything Sora needed, she was really similar to Zoro and the woman she was named after. Sora wasn't exactly fragile, as she had enormous strength in her fists and legs, however, she used to be more sensitive and affectionate and this resulted in many tears. Kuina also had her sensitive moments, as she always cried in children's films, but she liked to act tough and you wouldn't stop her.

"Dad! Sora wet the bed!” Kuina screamed as if declaring war and you would have laughed if you knew it wouldn't make the situation worse. When her secret was revealed, Sora cried louder and clung to her sister for shelter.

When you heard the cries and all the commotion, the three of you were already extremely awake and all the excitement had been replaced by worry for two girls. You got up faster and were soon kneeling in front of the two girls, accepting Sora who crawled into your arms, whimpering.

“Oh, honey… It’s okay, there’s no need to cry” you stroked her hair, smiling and trying to calm her down. “You did well, Kuina, but next time don't be so... Loud, your sister might be ashamed of this” you explained calmly, knowing that Kuina wouldn't take it as criticism but rather as a way to evolve.

"Serious? But there’s no need to be ashamed, Sora!” She said, patting her sister gently on the head, “Grandpa Zeff always says Daddy wet the bed a lot as a kid!” She smiled, thinking that this would help her sister to be less ashamed of the situation, which in fact happened, as Sora calmed down and looked at her sister, surprised and now calmer knowing that this was normal. In the background, you could hear Sanji muttering about how he was going to kill his father and Zoro laughing at him.

“Okay, okay, why don’t we change Sora and put you two to sleep again?” You suggested using your shirt to wipe Sora's wet face a little.

“Can we sleep with you tonight, dad?” Sora sniffed, looking at you with those tearful puppy eyes... And of course you weren't able to deny it, even if it meant that your night of wild love had gone to waste.

Some time later, you were all in bed. Sora was clean and in new pajamas, this time a yellow one with cute seaweed and of course her sister also wanted to change to match, and now she was wearing a green one, but with goldfish. Kuina was between you and Sanji already drooling over him, while Sora was curled up in a ball on Zoro's chest who held her tightly to comfort and protect her from everything. You were in the middle of the two and, every now and then, you stroked their hair just to hear your girls' soft breaths.

“Well, they told us to enjoy our honeymoon” Sanji sighed, trying to make a drama about not being able to have a night of love with the two of you, but soon he started laughing softly, making you both laugh too.

“Yeah… and you still wanted one more” Zoro laughed, thinking that if with two children it was already difficult to have a little intimacy, with three it would be impossible.

“I can't help it, I wanted a mini marimo to complete the collection” He laughed and then yawned, feeling sleep taking over him.

“We’ll think about the mini marimo later… For now, let’s just sleep and… Well, maybe these two will stay with Zeff for the weekend” you said, closing your eyes.

“Does it mean what I think it means?” Sanji asked excitedly.

“Be quiet, perverted cook,” Zoro snorted at him.

“Yes, yes, no fights or otherwise, I’ll go with the girls to Zeff” you laughed trying to threaten them.

“Well… You’re an essential part, but not mandatory…” Zoro teased and you scowled, these two were screwed with you when the three of you were finally alone.

[the-laughing-lunatic]

headcannons for spy, medic, scout, and sniper, with a transmasc S/O?

(Hell yea man, trans guy myself so this is right up my alley B) Thx for requesting! :D)

Spy, Medic, Scout and Sniper w/ a trans masc S/O!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

☆Spy☆

He took up drag both femme + masc in his younger years to help his disguises, so he’ll help you look more masculine 

“Mon chéri, you really must stop using gauze to bind, it is not doing your chest or yourself any favors. If you don’t have a proper binder you can use pantyhose, you know.”

He’d take you to help you get a tailored suit and put on a tie if you were never taught as a child

When you get the horrors (dysphoria and or period ) he’ll stay with you to help you in his smoking room

“Darling, will you please stop grabbing my knife so you’ll respawn without your period? It’s not gonna work, you’ve tried it before.”

“Ugh, fine. …can I pretty please get a kiss then?”

“...You’re not getting the cyanide in my teeth either.”

“Come on!”

☆Medic☆

He’s pretty well versed in this kind of thing, as an ex-doctor who isn’t bound by the law at all he’s definitely performed gender-affirming surgeries in secret in the past (for the price of a few unnecessary organs or course)

He’d offer to do your top + bottom surgery for the boyfriend discount of not stealing any of your body parts

He’s completely fine if you don’t want that though 

“It doesn’t matter what you have in your pants, schatz, what matters is that you have a man’s heart.”

“Aw, Ludwig—”

“And a man's kidney, lungs, ohoho! And an especially manly appendix.”

(it’s medic he’s gonna be a little silly)

The second you mention you’re on your period he immediately gets so much stuff for you, painkillers, a hot water bottle, blankets and snacks for you

Will pamper the hell out of you

If you’re getting hit with dysphoria he’ll reassure you

“I just- I just don’t feel like a man right now.”

“You? Not a man? Nonsense! If you weren’t a man, I wouldn’t be dating you, now would I?”

“I know, but-”

“But nothing, you are sehr männlich, and my mein Freund, those silly thoughts won’t change that.”

☆Scout☆

You’re gonna need to help him out a little bit

“So like– you’re a guy right? But you got a girl’s body or whatever, so is this gay or not?”

“It’s gay, Jeremy.”

“Okay, okay, just double-checkin’.”

If you’re on your period he tries to help in the main way he does with you: cuddles

He’d wrap his arms around your waist from behind and hold you and the hot water bottle pressed to your stomach close to him

Kisses your neck and just rambles about how handsome you are

“You’re a real hot guy, y’know that, prince? Jus’ makes you even stronger that you go through all this shit.”

“Shut up.”

“You picked the wrong guy to date if you wanted someone who could shut up, hotcakes. You’re stayin’ here and hearing about how handsome you are for a while.”

☆Sniper☆

Bro does not give a shit imma be real

“Mate, I couldn’t care less whether or not you’re a gal, a bloke, or a bloody alien. You’re sweet, and ya make me smile.”

Def relates to you with not fitting in with the other kids in childhood

If you’ve had top surgery y’all are chest scar bfs

When you get dysphoric he’ll get you two to do stuff to distract you

[quick, instantaneous, sudden] camping trips, hunting, hiking, or even trying to shoot at the blu base for funsies

Can’t be dysphoric when you’re running for your life, right?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[rosenbergamot]

Everyone is Trans???? (REAL NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)

Grian is the only trans person on Hermitcraft.

He knows this as a complete and utter fact. He’s not lying about this, no matter how much he wishes he was-- and goodness, does he wish he was every damn day of his life. It’s lonely to be the only trans person on a server full of your dearest companions. 

It’s not even a horrible thing. He doesn’t trust them any less, doesn’t love them any less, but he sure is peeved about being surrounded by cis people all the time. When he wants to talk about his hips looking too wide today, or his top surgery scars not sitting right enough for him, or the way he’s so happy he can finally grow something of a beard, or how having long hair has gone from something dysphoric to something euphoric for him-- he just can’t! 

Because they won’t understand! And, sure, of course he can just tell them because they’re his friends and they care about him, but sometimes he doesn’t want to just be cared about. Sometimes he wants to be understood. Sometimes he doesn’t want to have to explain everything, going through the same tiring motions he’s gone over time and time again in his life. 

Can a guy not just want another trans person to complain to? Is it really so hard for that to be his reality? Is it really so much to ask?

He’s having a particularly annoying day today. His stupid jeans aren’t fitting correctly on his hips. Usually he’s not too angry about it. On days where he feels more feminine he likes that he has these hips, revels in the way clothes hug his curves, but right now he’s feeling just about as Man as one possibly could, and it’s making him want to rip apart his clothes because none of them fit right. 

He ends up in a pair of sweatpants that hide enough of himself so that he’s able to leave his base. The day outside is warmer than expected, beautiful and sunny, and he immediately regrets the large sweater and comfy sweatpants he had chosen to wear. The light glints off of the ocean, teasing him with its deep secrets that he will never be able to decipher. 

In the distance he can see the newest addition to Scar’s train-- the big snail that those pesky snails had built. It worries him that they can build things all of a sudden. Still, it’s not like he can do anything about it. You just have to accept that they’re going to do whatever they please and then they’ll tone it down. It seems they like to cause mayhem. He can’t really knock them for that. 

He unhooks Pluto from the post. He runs his hands through his mane, reveling in the coarse feeling. It takes his mind away from his body for a few seconds, lets him be completely and utterly still in a way that he often isn’t. Being so detail oriented and such a perfectionist can be hard on the psyche sometimes, especially when that energy is directed towards your body. 

You might as well roll his boulder and call him Sisyphus because he’s… uh…

He’s having a rough go at it. 

Pluto whinnies as he stops petting him, nudges his hand with his snout. It’s time to go check the shopping district. Maybe do permit things. Ugh. 

The ride is uneventful. He smashes the glass to the permit office with his pickaxe, picks it back up and replaces it so that nobody gets any funny ideas. Don’t want them bothering him or anything of the sorts when he’s here. Having to work is his worst nightmare.

The office is as quiet as it is dark. He sighs so loud it fills up the space. He freshens up the light, makes sure that the sign telling people the door is out of order is in place, and then moves behind the filing cabinets, taking a look at his uniform that sits there.

Usually he likes how it fits. It’s tight, accentuating his flat chest and his curves. He likes it that way. Not today though. 

Today he’ll forgo the outfit. It’s not like anyone is going to come in, anyways.

--

Twenty minutes later and he was very wrong. Someone is digging underneath the building, muttering to themselves, and Grian guesses who it is before he even pops his head in. 

Of course Scar of all people needs help with permits today. He’s always looking for any chance he gets to bother Grian into doing work. He puts down his book, eyes him with an anger that he knows feels inappropriate even for him. Sue him, he’s having a bad day.

“Grian!” Scar’s voice is louder than he remembered. He’s got specks of dirt on his face. 

He shoves his shovel into the dirt, leans on it, falls over a little bit as it teeters, tries to right himself, ends up just knocking the shovel over instead, stands up straight, puts his hands behind his back. Stops. Coughs. Smiles. Continues yapping.

“It’s so lovely to see you here! It’s such a coinkidink that fate would put the both of us here! In the permit office! At the same time! Almost as if we’re destined to meet here and do paperwork together and-- and help me with my permit so that I can actually do something as a zoo keeper…” His voice is quieter at the end. Grian pretends not to hear it. 

“Scar.” He greets flatly. “What do you want?” 

Disregarding his ire, Scar saunters up to him. “Oh, well, nothing too bad, G, nothing at all! I wouldn’t dream of making you work or anything-- um…” He stops suddenly. He opens his mouth. He closes it, looking him up and down. If a visual question mark could appear over a person’s head, it absolutely would in this moment. “You’re not dressed up in your-- your little… office uniform! Your little suit! Where’s your clip-on tie, Grian?”

Ugh. “Office Grian is out of the building today.”

That does not do anything to quell Scar’s confusion. His big ol’ eyes look wet and pathetic as he stares at him. “B-B-B-B-But… how am I supposed to get help with my form if office Grian isn’t here?”

“You’re just gonna have to deal with good ol’ regular Grian today.” 

He loves Scar beyond words-- really, it drains him how much he loves this man-- but today is not the day for him. He can feel his energy departing out of his body already. He was going to try and stick it out for a while today. It looks like plans are changing swiftly.

“Is regular Grian as know-- legible. Knoll… knowledge…” He hums, goes down a different path. “Do you know how to do the form? Because I need some serious help, G.” 

He drags a hand down his face. It’s sweaty. “Office Grian doesn’t even know how to do the form, Scar.” 

“What?!” This is genuine surprise from him. “So you’re tellin’ me that this form is all… all…”

“Bullshit?” He finishes the sentence for him. “Yeah. Pretty much.” His head is starting to hurt. “Ugh. Look, Scar, I’m not feeling good today, so maybe we can leave this for another day?”

The humour drops from Scar’s face. It leaves genuine concern. “Yeah-- I mean, no worries. Of course. Of course! Do you… uh, do you need-- need anything? Want to… talk about it?” 

It’s tentative. An olive branch. Scar is a very kind guy. A genuinely nice person. He thinks he’s perhaps caught him off guard with how open he’s being right now. It leaves him quiet and thoughtful. 

When the smile is off of Scar’s face one can really appreciate the way he looks. It’s not like his smile isn’t beautiful-- because it is, it’s moreso that this stillness is rare for him, moments of calm few and far between his cheesy one-liners and fake grins, and so when one is awarded this sight it feels disarming. 

He often forgets how beautiful Scar is. He thinks about how handsome he is on the daily, a fact which he divulges to nobody but himself, achingly aware of it everytime he sees him. Yet he misses how pretty he is. It makes his heart hurt.  

“Um.” He says as he snaps himself out of his… state. With nothing else to say, he just goes, “okay?” Y’know, like someone who wasn’t just staring deep into their friend’s eyes and remarking on how gorgeous they are. Like a smart and normal person. He grins to try and make it look extra convincing.

Scar’s face immediately screws up into worry. It was not convincing. 

“Ohhhh, god. Who are you and what have you done with Grian? I-I-I-I’m scared! You actually want to talk about it? What kind of sorcery is this?”

The bit of humour grounds him. He snorts. “Scar, don’t make me regret my choice.”

That shocks him into movement. His friend’s head whips around, eyes looking for something. He runs around the office wildly, tripping over his untied shoelaces, ignoring his squawk of “tie your shoes Scar!”, and comes back with two chairs. He sets them down in front of the desk, patting the other one. When Grian doesn’t move he pats it again, more insistent. Finally he acquiesces, leaving the comfort of the desk and sitting across from Scar. 

“So!” His voice is far too cheery. His smile is straining at the edges. He’s out of his element right now, Grian realizes. And it’s because he always has to fight to get these talks out of Grian. It’s like pulling tooth and nail sometimes. And here he is, just ready to… to bare it all. 

Oh, god. He’s going to talk to him. About his problems. And his body. 

He suddenly feels sick.

“I think I may throw up.” 

Scar’s smile falls. “What?” 

He splays his upper body across the desk. His stomach is doing flips. “This. This is going to kill me, Scar. Do you understand?” 

“N-No?” 

“I am going to die a painful death, Scar, and it’s all because you made me talk about my… my feelings!” He makes a throwing up sound. 

“Now you-- you just wait a second, mister!” Scar leans forward so that he can poke him in the shoulder. “I didn’t make you do anything-- in fact you agreed to it! So let me hear it, Gri, or I-I swear I’m gonna… I’m gonna! I’m gonna send those stupid snails back over to you and make them eat your mending book right in front of your eyes!”

He gasps. “You wouldn’t.”

An mhm. A nod. “Ohhh, I would. Don’t you test me now!” 

He’s seen enough fish in the short span they’ve been in this season to know that, in his shock, his mouth is opening and closing like one. It takes all his resolve to not run out of the building and leave this stupid place behind. Sure, Scar may try and follow him, but he’s fast-- surely he can outrun him! It… it wouldn’t be too hard! He can do it!

The energy leaves him in one fell swoop as the silence drags on and Scar only seems to get more worried about him. Finally, he looks away.

“I feel alone…” he bites out. It’s like chewing glass. 

“Oh?” Scar is interested. That’s him telling him to continue. 

The proverbial glass on his tongue and teeth cut up his mouth and bleed the truth out of him. “I have… a particular problem that nobody else on the server can relate to.”

“Is it an avian thing?” He scratches his head. “Y’know, I know that Pearl isn’t exactly an avian herself, but she may be able to help you out. Or-- hey! Jimmy is an avian! We can message him?” 

He’s earnest. So earnest. He grits his teeth. “It’s not. An avian thing.” 

That makes Scar stop. “Is it… is it a them thing?”

Them. Neither of them need to say their names to know. 

“God-- no. No. Thank goodness.” In his stress, he begins to pull at his hair, his wings ruffling. “I just. God. Scar, I can’t believe you don’t know. We’ve spent…” lives together. Lived and died together. Stuck by each other’s sides when no one else would. Hurt each other but mostly just loved each other. “We’ve spent time together.” 

“We sure have! I-- I, uh… I don’t know what you’re talking about, though.” 

“Have you ever looked at me when I’m shirtless?” He just decides to bite the bullet. 

Scar’s jaw drops. His face begins to turn a shade of red he didn’t think was possible. He looks away, fiddling with the brim of his hat. “No, no-- no! No way. Noooo way. Never, G-- never! I would. Never.” 

“Why are you so--? Look, nevermind! Scar, I-I’m different from everyone else and it’s not because of them and it’s not because I’m an avian.”

“You’re gonna have to spell it out for me.” He’s still not looking at him. Did that really embarrass him so much? That… that means many things that he just does not have the brain to dissect right now. 

“I’m not cis.” Is all he can really say. 

It’s so silent you can hear a pin drop. 

“You’re…” Scar’s finger wobbles as he points at him. His jaw is back to being on the fucking floor. 

For a second, Grian thinks he’s just fucked up the entire thing they have going on. Scar is going to leave him. He’s going to hate him and he’s going to tell everyone and it’s going to ruin his life. Poppies and lilacs will mean nothing to them anymore. 

But then Scar starts to smile. He wiggles his fingers, bouncing in his seat. “Ooooh, Grian! Grian, I had no idea! What the heck?” His laugh is a little intense considering the information just given. Dread leaks out of his body and is replaced by confusion. Scar is still laughing. “What the heck?! You mean to tell me we could have been bondin’ even more? How-- how the heck did I not notice that?”

“What…?” His voice cracks. 

Firmly, Scar points at him. “Hold on, how the heck did you not notice this?!” He points to his own chest.

“Scar, what on Earth are you talking about?” 

With little care for much of… anything, really, Scar rips his own shirt open, the buttons flying off and skittering across the floor. He points aggressively at two thick scars underneath his pecs. They pucker at the end, pulling skin taut against his ribs. He’d recognize something like that anywhere. 

It’s Grian’s turn for his jaw to drop. “W-What? You… wait-- what? You… I-- Scar, put your shirt back on!” 

“The shirt is gone, Grian,” he says with faux seriousness. “You’re just gonna have to deal with this right now.”

He’s trying very hard not to stare at Scar’s chest. He is fighting a losing battle. 

“Nevermind that, though-- how the heck did you not notice these scars? They’re gigantic, Grian! Biggest ones I’ve got on my-- my whole… whole area!” He gestures vaguely to his body.

“Your torso?” He sighs. “I don’t know, Scar, I guess I don’t make it a habit to look at your pecs?”

That answer seems to displease him greatly. “Well, I can’t see why not, my pecs are amayzin’.” 

You know what… “Sure, Scar. Sure they are.” 

He beams at him. “You’re welcome to stare at them anytime, Grian!”

His ears are getting warm. Stupid Scar. “It’s nice to know I’m not alone on here.”

To Scar this seems like a joke. He laughs. When Grian doesn’t laugh too, he stops. Stares at him. Squints at him. “You-- you weren’t ever alone, Grian.”

“I didn’t know that you were also trans!” He argues, feeling his back start to rise. 

“No-- no, I mean… jeez, Grian, I don’t think I know a single cis person on this server. In fact, MIster, I thought you were the only one we had-- until now, of course!” 

“What.” 

“Actually I think Skizzy Wizzy is cis! Or-- or maybe he’s not…” He furrows his brows. “Ah, whatever, point is: you’re surrounded by trans people whether you like it or not, mister!”

“Why would I dislike it?” It still doesn’t feel real to him. If he weren’t sitting down he would have to sit down again. As it stands (or sits, he supposes) he just sinks lower into his chair. “I can’t believe this. I’ve been-- I’ve been stewing for years! Wait-- Mumbo?!”

“Yep!” He pops the ‘p’, grinning wildly. It makes Grian start to laugh. That makes Scar start to laugh. In a very sweet moment that turns very sobering very quickly, Scar takes his hand, squeezes it as if he’s squeezing one of those grip testing machines-- ow! “Now you don’t have to hide it, G. Isn’t that amayzin’?” 

The contact makes his head start to spin. “You’re crushing my hand, Scar.”

“Whoops!” He lets go, blushing. “Sorry, sometimes I don’t even know my own strength!” 

“Yeah, yeah… anyways, what was that about you definitely not staring at my chest earlier?”

Scar runs out of the building so fast you would swear he had somewhere to be. 

Which is good enough for Grian, because that means he doesn’t have to put an ounce of work in today! He puts down his ‘Gone Fishin’ sign, repairs the hole left by Scar, and then leaves the building. He feels lighter than he’s ever felt before.

So it turns out he was wrong. He’s never been so glad to be so wrong. 

(read it on ao3 here! <3)

[beautifulqueerexistence]

Trans spirituality - A Nonbinary Rant

I know there’s a ton of pressure on trans people to transition to a point of passing… but does anyone else feel like they’d still be trans no matter what life they were put in? Like transness is inherently connected to their spirit? And the experience by itself, even with all the rejection and waiting and pain and frustration that comes with it, was always written to be a part of you?

I was never someone who “always knew.” I grew up in an environment that didn’t allow for that, with princess toys and dress up stuff shoved in my hands before I could form a full sentence. And I was, objectively, happy. I carried those experiences until I was 18. My makeup was always done, my clothing was always feminine, I got GOOD at being a girl.

And then, one day, I realized I didn’t HAVE to be. I learned about HRT, I learned about top surgery and binding and packing… and it felt like this other piece of me just… woke up. And never went back to sleep. I fought it for YEARS, pushing off the nagging feeling that HRT and Top surgery were for me. But that piece of me just would not go back to dormancy. They refused. And I couldn’t keep fighting them, I was suffocating myself by pretending they weren’t there.

I was never painfully miserable being a woman, but I knew something wasn’t right. I’m two years on T, almost a month post op after Top Surgery, and being a man feels the same way. Neither are bad, neither are miserable, and I could safely live in both experiences with mild discomfort.

But something in me was always meant to be trans.

Those bandages came off, and I saw my scar shape for the first time, and the flat chest felt like mine… but the SCARS also felt like mine. It’s as if they were always meant to be there. The piece of me that woke up finally took a breath. With every weekly T shot, they take a breath. With every day I wear eyeliner, they take a breath. With every day I grow out my facial hair, they take a breath. That piece of me thrives in the in between. I thrive in the in between.

I think we get so caught up in the experience of dysphoria that we almost forget to discuss the relief and poetry that comes from being trans. In the face of being disowned and ridiculed and threatened, I’m surrounded by the most sincere, supportive, REAL people I could ask for. In the anxiety of battling insurance and laws, I get to exist as my own act of defiance against those who can’t, or won’t even try to understand me. I got the amazing chance of living in the in between and living a life that can only be understood if you live it. And while I’m not trying to dismiss the very real pain and very real struggle that comes from being genderqueer, especially in conservative environments and in the light of recent laws… I try to take time to be thankful that I have spirit worth working for. A spirit worth struggling for. And that the experiences adjacent to that have made me a more empathetic individual to those in other in betweens. That I really, truly appreciate my body and what it’s done for me, because I had to fight to make it mine.

That piece of me just woke up one day, and I don’t think I’d want them asleep again even if I could choose.

[seeminglydark]

I'm in love with Caro's style! It's a super cool mix of masc, fem, and vaporwave kind of look. As an enby who, at first, thought I had to look a certain way after coming out as non binary, I was wondering how Caro found their style after they started transitioning and figuring out who they were as a person.

Hello! So I did draw an entire four page little comic thingy to answer this, but I'm going to post it tomorrow cuz I wanted to draw a cute little cover for it ha. Figured I would answer you in text today though, and then you can have the visual tomorrow <3 First thing I'm going to say is that there is no 'certain way to look' for any gender identity or sexuality, cuz thats important, for those who dont wanna read through this text dump. Dress how you want forever.

SO! *rubs hands together* how Caro found their style! Background to those who havent read my comics, Caro grew up as a super high femme kid with crazy helicopter parents who controlled every aspect of their life, including how they dressed. They participated in pageants, modeling and wore a LOT of pink. Not that Caro didn't like pink, they did, but they liked purple better.

After Sully (highschool sweetheart) left, and Caro was on their own, they cut their hair off in a fit of rage and suddenly had to grow up real quick because they were on their own. Whats that got to do with fashion, RJ? Everything, dear reader! When they left, they had a bunch of Sullys shirts and his battle jacket. All 10 sizes too big of course, so paired the oversized tops with their own jeans, workout shorts etc. They had their cheer sneakers. And that is what they wore for a few months, til they got a job at the local gas station. The gas station employees were like, what is going on here with this little girl wearing too big clothes with a fucked up haircut, so, they pitched together and got this kid a proper haircut, during which Caro tearfully explains they arent a girl at all, they dont know what they are and everything is very scary and please dont fire them. Bev, one of their older co-workers decides they need better clothes and takes them to Seattle to thrift! Caro never thrifted in their life and found themself enamored with tacky 80's clothes and patterns, bright colors, funny tee shirts, etc. They worried, because maybe that wasnt what a boy would wear. Bev tells them theres no such thing as what a boy or a girl would wear, something Caro had never heard before, and that gives them mental permission to gleefully grab all the things they never got to wear growing up. They looked like a roller rink carpet threw up on them. they loved it.

The Gas Station Adults buy them a jacket that fits as well, GasCo purple of course, with their chosen name on the name tag. a symbol of acceptance. Caro started hearing things about genderfluid and nonbinary, and looking into what that meant, and what it could mean for them. Their podcast project, Mil-Liminal goes viral. Goldie, their agent, helps them get on low t. they realize how much fun body hair is and LOOK they can wear crop tops to show off their new tummy trail while still hiding their boobs. Whats even more fun? Getting tattoos. Taking their body back. Making themself into the person THEY want to see, and whats makes them the most happy. Still looking like an arcade carpet threw up on them, still loving it. They get top-surgery. Goldie asks them if they want to do a public face reveal. They've kept themself hidden this entire time, and realize they dont want to do that anymore. They shouldnt have to. They want to show the world this person theyve become. Which also means choosing a signature look for Mil-Liminal.

A Mix of their Highschool Varisty Jacket, and their GasCo Jacket. Sneakers. A nod to the pieces of clothing they always felt comfortable in.

Shorts and crop tops or mesh tops. Show off the tattoos, and the scars they earned becoming the person theyve always been.

Wear their identity on their sleeve, because not everyone can, but they are in a position where they want to make a difference and be seen for those who cant, cuz they know how it feels to be lost and scared and not have any idea how to move forward. Let their voice BE a voice.

A SnapBack. A call back to the first date with their highschool sweetheart, who listened, and put his hat on them and took them out and let them be themself, and loved them for it.

The most important thing to take from this anon, is that there is no Look. There is no way to dress or act or look if you're non binary, its not fashion. The same way clothing has no gender, anyone can wear whatever the fuck makes them happy. Put clothes on that, when you look in the mirror, you feel comfortable and happy. Its a very personal thing, and its about YOU, and how you feel. and your gender journey. Gender and Sexuality is as vast a spectrum as the human condition.

Thank you so much for the ask and inspiring me to make a look book and fashion journey post, I'll put it up tomorrow <3

[cyborgpuppyofficial]

Hey! Before I begin this thread, I just wanna say, DON'T HARRASS ANYBODY. If you find the original post about what this is, then don't harass them or send them threats. They just have a bad take, that's all. Don't look for them, don't engage, just ignore their ass.

Trigger warning for Transphobia, and general dumbass takes ahead. This is gonna be a long one, so strap in! ^w^

So there's this assinine thread that is spreading around in the Sonic Headcannons tag, and I'm here to ratio it, and debunk it. Because it's been REALLY on my nerves, and I wanna talk about it in a longer format. Again, don't look for this person. And if you find them, don't harass them. That's not cool, and I blurred their name for a reason. Anyways, let's begin! In this first screencap I took, they talk about Sonic not being Trans because it doesn't fit with his character

Now me personally, I don't see Sonic as Trans. But I do see him as Demisexual and Demiromantic as two parts of my headcannon for him. So I'm gonna tell you that it's NOT THAT DEEP. Sonic can still be Trans or Cis, and still have the same personality. It's almost like Trans people are human beings, who have personalities outside of being Transgender! Who would've thought! What a crazy concept!😱 Which by the way, his personality changes in many interactions, look at Sonic Prime, or Sonic Boom for example. In Sonic Prime he acts way more goofy, and in Sonic Boom he's more of a sassy dork. But they still like the same things as far as we're aware. Do you know what would change about them and their personalities if they were Trans? If you said absolutely nothing, congratulations, you're not a braindead idiot! >w< Sonic can still run fast, be cocky, eat hot chili dogs and lie, as well as being Transgender! Because being Trans changes nothing about a person, especially not a FICTIONAL CARTOON HEDGEHOG.😱😱

Also Sonic is a fictional character, he's not even from nature itself, and it's fine if he were to change his gender. Which by the way, MOST TRANS HEADCANNONS MAKE HIM FTM, WHICH CHANGES NOTHING ABOUT HIS PYSICAL APPERENCE OTHER THAN TOP SURGERY SCARS. Side note about this first part, whoever actually uses "Woke Propaganda" in a non ironic way, I'm not gonna take you seriously. >:3

This next part of this weird take talks about how Trans Sonic is not representation, and that I can call them a transphobe all I want. So I will! Okay Transphobe, and I will fight you.🥰

Sometimes people like to just put headcannon things onto characters they kin, or they genuinely have reasons for thinking Sonic is Trans. Either way, Sonic and someone's headcannon of Sonic aren't the same! Someone drawing cute little top surgery scars on Sonic isn't going to change the Sonic Brand. It's not cannon, and Sonic being Trans is a headcannon for a reason. It's just a silly thing that lots of people agree with, and it literally harms nobody that some people draw Sonic as Transgender. People can still love Sonic the character, and still draw him as Trans.

They aren't doing a disservice to the franchise by making him Trans, people are just having fun. You should try that sometime! It's better than spewing hateful opinions, and unironically using the word "Wokies" to refer to anybody who DARES to draw Sonic with two little lines on his chest. By the way, bellow is what they're SO PRESSED ABOUT!😱 Isn't that just the scariest thing you've ever seen!? Just two little lines on a character's chest area! Woah! I'm never gonna be able to sleep again!/silly Grow up.

(I don't know who the original artist is, if ya'll know, please tell me!)

Last screenshot I promise, but I'm not sharing their image they included with their lovely post.

Uhh, Trans teenagers exist in real life. Sure a lot of them don't get surgery, but that's the beauty of FICTION. Also why do you care so much that if he is a Teenager and Transgender? That seems a little gross to me. Trans people are able to make their own decisions, and can choose to, or to not get surgery. I'm not Trans myself, and I think that people should wait until they're older to get surgery. But I'm not going to throw up in disgust because someone made a choice for themselves. And it's really weird that you're pressed over a fictional teenager with top surgery scars being drawn on them.😒

People can draw their favorite characters as Trans to kin them, or just because they feel like it. In either scenario, it's a drawing. A fictional drawing that was made for fun. And what exactly are you "helping" by saying this take? Just exposing yourself for being scared of little lines on Sonic's chest? What changes about the video, or drawing, or media you consume because Sonic is drawn with, or without top surgery scars? Again, ABSOLOUTELY NOTHING!🥰🥰 Unless you're reading or watching a comic about Sonic's journey with being Transgender, which is a fanmade thing. Then nothing about certain videos or fan content changes in the slightest. And I think it's so strange that you're hurt enough by Trans Sonic, that you had to say it was the worst headcannon BY FAR. What about those headcannons that Sonic is in love with Tails, or where he's a stalker, or a creep? I guess those aren't nearly as bad as a Trans person existing according to this lovely individual. And I guess a Trans person is the worst thing he can be. (GROSS TAKE)

Fuck off, get a hobby, cope, L+Ratio.😒 Also Trans rights are human rights, and all my Trans fans are valid! And they're allowed to headcannon whatever character as Transgender, since they aren't hurting anybody by doing it! ^w^

Thanks for reading all of this if you did. Again don't look for this person, and don't harass them! I just had to get this off my chest as someone who's been harassed for my own Sonic LGBTQ+ headcannons before. Continue doing your headcannons, as long as you aren't being mean about them. And I hope you... enjoyed this post I guess? XD I hope I did well debunking this weirdo. I'll be sharing my own headcannons, as well as their headcannon designs over here hopefully sometime soon.

Trans rights are human rights! And have a wonderful day everyone, peace out! ^w^

Boo! Ahhh so scary!/silly

[crossdreamers]

Transgender characters in  Sims 4 can now wear binders, shapewear, and have top surgery scars

Life simulation game Sims 4 shows the world how easy it is to be transgender positive.

Pink News reports:

The new options can be found under three categories: medical wearables, top surgery scars, binders and shapewear.

Medical wearables include hearing aids and glucose monitors, while binders and shapewear include new tucking underwear, tank tops, and binders.

Over at The Daily Beast Shannon O’Connor writes:

Not only does it add some much needed inclusivity to video games, but it also is an outlet for queer players of The Sims who are going through the personal struggle of coming to terms with their identity that lets them truly be seen. Now, anyone struggling with gender dysphoria can create a Sim with top surgery scars or a binder, live a little like that in the game and maybe start to feel a real sense of self. 

There are obviously also a lot of trans people who use Sims to explore and express their gender identity before (or without) transitioning, and who will not make use of these additions. That is fine too.

Regardless: Electronic Arts (EA) deserves praise for taking the needs of trans people seriously.

[fanonical]

i hope transmasc people doing this are having fun (which is the most important thing obviously) but man i kinda hate the current trend of fandom artists giving random male characters top surgery scars to show that they’re trans, not because i don’t like deciding random characters are trans (because that is based.) but because it feels like a quite cookiecutter, quite uninspired & often historically inaccurate approach to telegraphing that character as trans? especially when the rest of their design is exactly the same hunky cis dude proportions from before. the trans guys i know in real life have varied bodies! i’d love to see that represented more in art rather than just five hundred Resident Evil boys who look the exact same as before

[grow-bettah]

Do you guys want a headcanon/ personal c!Grumbo lore dump? no? okay here It is!!

starting off with my silly guy for obvious reasons- Grian. quick warning i pour a ton of myself into him as a hyperfeminine fat trans man💕

Grian - Avian. Big ol' birdy bird. no set species, he does whatever. TRANSGENDERED. Trans Man Grian owns my life, and this plays jnto my Ariana stuff too btw. Grian doesn't want top surgery, but he's been on T pretty much ever since he joined Hermitcraft, like mid to late s6 he asked X if it was possible to do that for him. He's gotten waaay more confident since then. also he was a scrawny lil guy when he joined HC, but once he got comfortable he let himself heal (no more watchers) he became the fat little rat bastard I know and love. /aff Grian has fibromyalgia! He's an ambulatory wheelchair user and otherwise Mumbo carries his cane around for him just incase he needs it. (it's the colour of Mumbo's eyes. Grian won't tell him, and Mumbo will never know unless told since he can't see his own reflection.)

Ariana Griande was a persona he grabbed up pretty early on in his Hermitcraft career, and nobody except Mumbo, Scar and Gem know that that's him. He very much enjoys playing the part of Ariana every so often and wearing the tight hot pink outfits she does! When he's Ariana he doesn't mind using she/her btw.

CuteGuy is a very recent persona hes started playing. The cute superhero and sidekick to HoTGuy- they know eachothers identities but don't snitch. Mumbo doesn't know that Grian id CuteGuy, and gushes about that 'terribly handsome' superhero to his boyfriend regularly. Both Gri and Mumbo are huge HoTGuy fans and own a good chunk of merch of him. Mumbo does suspect that his Boyfriend is CuteGuy since he conveniently has to go build or farm or whatever whenever another hermit is in need of CuteGuy's help. Grian knows Mumbo's onto him. lol

Mumbo time!! the blorbo

Mumbo! He's a bat slash vampire guy. he's a real fancypants and wears strictly suits and cravats. He does however get it dirty with redstone periodically. His vampire identity isn't a secret- The hermits aren't worried about it since they're aware he drinks from pretty much only Grian. He's also a trans man! Just that he doesn't really use a persona to live out his hyperfemininity like grian, but rather wears dresses, skirts and other feminine clothes whenever he so pleases. He also refuses to get the teta snip, he thinks they look great in his suit jacket thank you very much. He's on T, a fair bit longer than Grian. Also, X knew before Mumbo did that he's trans. hehe. Mumbo WISHES he could eat anything other than Blood because he knows from Scar that his boyfriend's cooking is phenomenal. Also because blood doesn't really get you all that much nutrition which keeps him skinny, which in turn worries Grian all the time because he thinks Mumbo looks like a stick ( a "very hot and sexy stick" according to Grian mind you.) Mumbo has narcolepsy! He's pretty independent even with it obstructing most of his life. But sometimes very short sudden naps aren't too bad (when he's not doing redstone or building. Grian's always around when Mumbo's building up high, just for safety.)

I hope this isn't too much to read y'all! I just needed to dump all of this out on you guys today just to.. explain how my art functions? I guess? MWA kissy

[j-onedrabbles]

𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚-𝒔𝒊𝒙: 𝒘𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘✎ cw: fluff, suggestive, nudity, making out, mention of lee knows scar wc: 1.4k

     The moon was shining bright up in the night sky. It wasn’t full but it was still bright. Y/n was getting a piggyback ride from her boyfriend as he walked along the shoreline. It was quiet, only the sounds of the waves rolling in and almost hitting Minho’s shoes before they rolled back out.

     “I’m gonna miss having you on campus,” Y/n said

     “I’ll still be close by,” Minho reassured her, “I’ll pick you up from school on my days off.”

     “Hm, not the same,” Y/n pouted

     “How about this,” Minho put her back on the sand and turned around, wrapping his arms around her, “You move in with me.”

     Y/n stared at him for a moment, in shock and excitement, “Really?”

     “Yeah. Move in with me. You’d still be close to campus plus we’d still get to see each other every day, go to bed with each other every night…” Minho smiled, in all seriousness as he kissed her cheek, “So?”     “Yes,” Y/n agreed before cupping his cheek and bringing his lips to hers. Minho happily kissed her back and pulled her close to his chest. Y/n pulled away and smiled, “You don’t think we’re moving too fast?”

     “Kitten, we suck at going slow,” Minho bent down and picked her up

     Y/n giggled and kissed him again, enjoying the moment. At least before their friends ruined it. “Get back here! We’re having a group movie night!” Changbin yelled at them from the back patio of the house.

     Minho groaned as he pulled away from the kiss. “I’m gonna kill them.”

     Y/n chuckled at him and wrapped her arms around his neck, “You know, that cove we found earlier is pretty close.” 

     Minho smiled and followed her directions to the little hideaway. Their friends could wait a little while longer.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

     The week-long vacation went by too quickly. Soon they were driving back and back in the real world. Y/n, Hyunjin, Felix, and Jeongin immediately started backing some things to head home for. Minho was lying on Y/n’s bed, whining about her leaving him to go home. At least he was, he had successfully gotten her to stop packing and had her sitting on top of his lap, tongues dancing together as he gripped her hips, grinding her down on his semi-hard-on.

     Y/n pulled away and sat up on his lap and Minho followed suit, planting his lips on her neck as she pulled at the back of his shirt, “Off,” She sighed 

     Minho pulled away and pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to her floor, “You’re turn kitten.” 

     Y/n pulled hers over her head and tossed it to the floor. Minho smiled and eyes her chest. They had been lounging around all day so she didn’t bother putting on a bra, just make his life easier.

     He returned his hands to her hips and pressed her against him again while rolling her against him again. Lips pressed against her breasts as her head tilted forward while she tugged his hair and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Need you,” Minho groaned against her chest.

     “Needy today,” Y/n teased before pushing him back on the bed

     “Fuck you look good on top of me,” Minho sighed as both of them eyed the others topless figure. 

     “What’s this?” Y/n asked as her eyes fell on a scar on his stomach

     “Old surgery scar. Surprised you didn’t see it sooner,” Minho said as she ran her fingers over it

     Her brow furrowed a bit. To her, that bit of skin tingled a bit. Something she only ever felt in the fae.

     “Hey, what’s wrong?” Minho asked as he grabbed her hand.

     “Have you ever been to the fae?”

     “No? Kitten,” Minho sat back up and cupped her face. “Talk to me.”

     “Fae magic,” She mumbled

     “What do you mean?” 

     “I felt a faint trace of fae magic, elven specifically,”

     “Magic?”

     “I know it sounds weird—”

     “Kitten, I’m a human dating a siren.”

     “Yeah, weird couple I get it, but that’s not explaining the—” Minho cut off whatever rant she was going and brought his lips on hers and as he flipped their position

     Y/n hummed into the kiss. Forgetting whatever it was she was going to say. “How about I go with you to the fae,” Minho offered as he pulled back from the kiss.

     “Are you sure?” 

     “Positive.”

     “Okay,” Y/n agreed

     “Alright. That’s settled.” Minho started kissing down her neck again “Wanna continue?”

     “Yes,” Y/n smiled

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

     A day later, each of the four fae headed to their own respective places to the fae realm. Y/n hadn’t mentioned anything to the others about what she was thinking last night when she touched her boyfriends scar. Just walked into the realm with him after the boys already left. 

     Minho felt the change for sure but everything looked the same. He looked over at his girlfriend and noticed the tips of her ears extended to a point a pit. Not to an extreme but it was noticeable. “Cute,” He smiled as he slugged his arm over her shoulder.

     Y/n glanced over him, still looked human entirely. Maybe someone back home would have the answer? So she kissed his cheek and lead him down the path in front of them.

     It was a quiet walk to her hometown, small little place by the sea, a mix of different fae ran along the streets. 

     “Welcome home Y/n!” One of the kids that ran by called

     “Thanks,” Y/n giggled

     “Busy here.” Minho commented

     “Always has been,” Y/n smiled as they headed down to the water

     There was a grouping of houses nearby the water. Y/n took a deep breath and grabbed his hand.

     “You okay?” Minho asked

     “Yeah? You’re just the first guy I’ve ever brought home…”

     “Aren’t I special,” Minho’s joke eased her nerves as she lead him to one of the houses.

     Y/n knocked on the door before opening, “Home!” Y/n called into the house. Then a few pairs of feet came running around the corner.

     “Siblings?” Minho asked

     “Part fish, there’s a lot of kids,” Y/n shrugged

     “You’re back!” A young boy yelled as an older lady walked around the corner.

     The boy and two girls hugged Y/n and almost toppled over. “Welcome home honey,” the older lady said, “Whose you’re friend?”

     “This is Minho, my boyfriend. Min, this is my mom,” Y/n introduced them

     “Nice to meet you,” Minho greeted and held his hand out.

     “You’re human,” Her mom observed as she shook his hand

     “Yes,” Minho confirmed

     “No singing while he’s here,” Her mom told the kids and they just groaned then ran out the house, saying they were going to go play in town.

     “Well, come on in.” The older women said before walking back into the house. The couple closed the door behind them then Y/n showed him up to her room so they could put their stuff down. Then joined her mom in the kitchen.

     “So, we’re you two meet?” Her mom asked as they sat at the kitchen table. 

     “School. Jisung introduced us.” Y/n told her

     “The changeling?”

     “Yeah.”

     “Don’t think I need to worryabout you being hunted then. I trust his opinions.” 

     “Hunted?” Minho asked

     “Yes. Siren’s and mermaids both get hunted by humans. It’s why there’s not a lot of us in you’re realm anymore.” Y/n’s mom stated, “Her own father was killed by sailors hunting.”

     Minho enjoyed talking with Y/n’s mom. She was nice and forward. Y/n very much was like her mother in that aspect. Her younger siblings were quite inquisitive about Minho, especially since he was human and they had yet to leave the realm. By night time, the whole house headed into town. The fae town was lit up bright, music playing, children dancing. 

     Y/n’s younger siblings had dragged Minho to dance with them, something they’d been talking about since dinner when he mentioned he worked at a dance studio and it was his major in school. Y/n smiled as she watched him with his mother.

     “He’s not fully human, is he?” She asked him

     “Honestly, don’t know. He has a scar on his stomach, I touched it lasat night and i felt elven magic. I thought we could get answers here,” Y/n told her

     “Well, if he had ancestors that we’re elfs, that magic would be stronger. He must have had a run in with an elf. Maybe the surgeon wasn’t fully human and left traces of magic. Don’t worry too much.” It was a bit of reassurance that calmed her. She’d talk to him about it later. Y/n just smiled at her boyfriend. 

     Enjoying their second vacation before they got back to the human realm and worked on their lives together.

←PREV|NEXT→ MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

a/n: just the epilogue after this and then my first smau is done 🥲

taglist: @xxoche3erryxxo @iadorethemskz @maeleelee @morningstardada @sungookie @mistlitmoonlight @junebug032 @m111nho @slay-and-gay @hyunjinshairband01 @beautifulixr @i-dont-know-me-either @jeonghanis

[badchoicesworld]

omg hi i love your blog so much!! could you please write a story where the reader is trans and healing from surgery but his suit is making it uncomfortable and they’re on a mission together as spider-people and reader’s chest hurts and he has to explain to his boyfriend noir that he’s trans and shows him his scars? :) fluff and wholesomeness ensue etc etc

thank you!!

spider-noir finds out you’re transmasc on a mission !

omg tysm ur so sweet !! so very happy to do this for you, my friend !! hope you don’t mind i’ve done it in this format

im assuming you’re from a more progressive dimension in comparison to Noir, something more modern or even a little advance

that being said, if you ever find yourself recovering from surgery, let your body heal !! and don’t try to be spider-man at home plz

warnings: none, just noir being the most oblivious man alive and then being a golden retriever boyfriend

requests are: open !

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

so, let’s set the scene rq. you’ve finally managed to undergo the gender affirming surgery that you’ve been entitled to your entire life, all’s well and it’s incredibly accessible (one can only dream)

but, you’re also your dimensions one and only spider-man.

naturally, you rationalise that oh dear god what will the multiverse do without me ? you’ve gotta get back out there as soon as you can, even if it means popping open, like something busting at the seams.

tight spandex, whatever accessories you’ve got on, supporting your whole weight in one arm while you swing from place to place isn’t exactly the most comfortable thing in the world now, is it ? so uncomfortable that it absolutely effects your performance, one would assume

but, since this is something that you’ve went through independently and without sharing with those you find dear, it was only a matter of time before Miguel sends you on your merry way to carry out some kind of mission with your dearest: spider-noir.

now lets be honest, Noir’s probably clueless when it comes to trans issues and top surgery. not in an arrogant way but I imagine his reality isn’t exactly caught up with the times yet.

that being said i don’t think he’s never heard of them, considering he’s been around more modern spider-people and has likely been exposed to some kind of media about it

still, when you two are out on your mission together and he notices how much you’ve been awkwardly and as discreetly as possible pulling at your suit, he’s probably gonna side eye you a bit until he recognises the discomfort in your face too.

i imagine Noir would rather not see his boyfriend in discomfort for long at all, so pulls you aside into whatever’s nearest- an alley, anything for a little privacy

gentle as ever, examining the suit that you’ve been tugging at all day long while gently patting you down to see if there’s anything that he can identify

probably firing an ungodly amount of questions like “what’s wrong?” in several variants

most likely makes some kind of reference about your tugging that you’ll never understand, slang from his era. is probably assuming that you’ve washed your suit wrong and is in fact suggesting that while he pats you down, but mumbles about it not being pilly so is at a loss

finds nothing, but hears the clear hiss of discomfort when he pats the sides of your torso that are still healing.

you’ve gotta face the music someday, right ? but this is your boyfriend, and Noir is nothing but accepting and open minded to new things

so, deny all you may at first and insist everything okay. your suits just a little uncomfortable today, you say ? yeah after that hiss, he’s not buying it.

Noir’s gonna coax the real answer out of you if you’re not already willing to share right off the bad, he wants to understand you.

Reminding you of his trust, calling you as many pet names that you’re comfortable with. “Come on, sweetheart. Honey, who am I gonna tell?” super persuasive, who can resist the man ?

only, and ONLY when you’re feeling secure and comfortable enough to share this part of yourself with him will things still make absolutely zero sense to Noir

absolutely clueless. if you say “i’m trans” as simply as that my guy is just stood there not knowing what kind of riddle this is, but he knows this much: he doesn’t know wtf that means. trans…ition ? i mean yeah technically

if you go the step further right off the bat and show him your scars, Noir’s colour blindness is straight up preventing him from noticing the subtle difference in your scar tissue and healthy skin.

he’s stood there with his eyes as narrow as a thread while those cogs turn away in his head. until you finally explain it, Noir has forgotten his own name

actually explain it to him, and Noir’s perception of you just does not budge. his thought process is just “boyfriend is still boyfriend, good” after you’ve explained to him all about being born in the wrong body and all that

admittedly does not understand that concept. poor baby can’t fathom the idea that you’re anything but what you’ve told him- you’re a boy, says you, therefore you are a boy !

cosmetic surgeries however were gaining traction during the 20’s and 30’s thanks to war, skin graphs and all that

naturally, gobsmacked after it clicks in his head that you’ve managed a mission after surgery considering his dimensions surgery is a lot less advance

will now not let you swing and insist he’ll take care of the mission. if there’s ever a point where a fist fight breaks out, Noir’s throwing insults like usual, references no one understand because it’s the 30’s and says something along the lines of “my boyfriends watching, you better make me look good” before absolutely thundercunting a car at them

will let you walk independently but is happy to carry you- this includes swinging

if you’re still uncomfortable in your suit it’s incredible how fast this gentleman is wrapping you up in his coat if you wanna tie the top half of your suit around your waist. Still not ideal, but it’s less friction.

when you two get back to whatever you both call home together, Noir is likely to be super delicate with the actual subject and is kinda treading on eggshells. figured that, you never talked about it before, would you be okay talking about it now ?

still has a little bit of a hard time understanding the importance of gender affirmations since you are simply a boy to him, why do you need to be reminded ?

would probably be really sheepish about asking if he could touch your scars, since he can’t see them all too well. With your permission and ideally when they’re less irritable and sore, he’ll like to trace his thumbs over the scars as gently as possible with his gloveless hands. May not understand the exact significance of them, but he appreciates all of you regardless

is probably amazed at the advancements in surgery

"honey? i may not understand, but i'm trying" he loves you so much

we learned from the first movie that Noir is an extremely open-minded person who’s willing to learn about new things (like the rubix cube) and he’s determined to understand. he wants to understand you, even if just a little bit more

won’t tell a soul about you being trans. honestly forgets a lot of the time, actually. not out of arrogance, it’s just as simple as you’ve said you’re a boy, so that’s how he sees you. that being said, it’s hard for him to identify when people are intentionally transphobic because it just doesn’t make sense to him. it’s obvious you’re a boy, idiot

but when it clicks, the guy can’t control his temper “NOW WAIT JUST A SECOND, YOU’RE ONE OF THOSE TRANSPHIBIANS!” close enough, Noir. we love you.

yeah anyway, is willing in that moment to go to jail for you

show him the trans flag, watch him crumble as he guesses the colours

overall, clueless but supportive nonetheless and loves you unconditionally.

when he does eventually learn for you and it finally sticks, he starts to make a conscious effort to start asking people their pronouns through an incredibly rigid and rehearsed dialogue tree you helped him come up with. uses his lil detective notepad to keep track of peoples preferred names and pronouns with little doodles of the people so he can differentiate

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

i hope this is okay, i'm not massively confident with my noir capabilities