Every time somebody insists trans masc king Gwyndolin is actually trans women, an angel's wings are violently ripped off. He's a guy, who's father forces him to present as a girl in public because he doesn't meet his father's arbitrary standards for what constitutes a man. And closer aligns with what Gwyn saw as a "woman." But yeah sure just stick your fingers in your ear and insist a character who's constantly misgendered is actually the gender his shitty father forced on him
Postal dude goes outside on Valentine’s Day to buy you flowers and a lovely card (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ
This is meant to be Postal 1 dude but if you have good imagination you can pretend it’s whatever other dude!!
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This flower shop was going to be the death of Dude; every type of flower in every single color. This was insane. How was he going to get any sort of present for you if he couldn’t even decide on a bouquet of flowers? He glanced at the flowers again. Dude knew your favorite colours, but what flowers did you like? Maybe looking at the price tags would help. Dude doesn’t have much in his pocket other than a light wallet and a couple of rocks he picked up from the sidewalk.
He closed his eyes for a moment, mentally preparing himself to ask the lady at the front. “Excuse me.” Dude pulled his scarf down, his boots thumping against the floor as he walked up to the register. “I need recommendations for flowers.” He grumbled, avoiding eye contact and glancing at whatever was on the walls.
The young worker at the register was very eager to help. Feeling like Cupid as she pointed to a few flowers and explained their meanings. “Sure, roses are a classic but the freesias are so unique! It’s really up to you, anyway.” She smiled as Dude pondered in his head. He rubbed his chin, feeling the goatee he had gotten used to over the years.
Dude groaned inside his head, maybe red roses were the way to go; classic and romantic. That settled it for him. “I’ll have the red roses then.”
The winter sun burned Dude’s eyes as he walked through the streets holding a medium-sized bouquet of fresh red roses. The next stop was the small card shop on the corner. He noticed a big sale sign on the front, half of any Valentine's cards.
He strutted in and a bell rang, announcing his arrival. Dude walked through the slim aisles and looked at every card, hoping to find something suitable. A simple card would be fine. Dude made a mental note of buying a pen as well; all the pens at home were out of ink.
A square card with a beautiful landscape on the cover was sitting in front of him. Dude picked up the card, opened it up and read the pre-written message inside.
“Like you and me, some things are just meant to be.”
Dude’s lips flickered into a small smile, his eyes content as he closed the card and walked to the register. He tugged his scarf down under his chin again so he could properly speak. “Just this and one of those pens, thanks.” Dude pointed to a cup of black pens.
The man at the register rang up the items, the total cost being way less than Dude thought it’d be, thankfully. He paid and took the items, shoving them in his pocket while he left the store. He took a breath of fresh air, that midday breeze hitting the back of his throat.
Dude needed a place to sit down, preferably away from people. He stuck out like a sore thumb. Long and vivid red hair, dark attire, and his pale skin. He looked like a vampire in the snow, sickly to any normal folk.
Walking to a less populated area, Dude found a bench next to a half-frozen pond with long grass poking out from the snow. The wind flew through his hair, a strand flying in front of his eyes for a second. He brushed it away with a gloved hand.
Dude took out the pen and card he purchased, ready to write his name down and a small note at the bottom. He clicked the pen, taking off a glove and testing it in his hand. He put the card on his thigh as a makeshift table. Dude was hunched over, scribbling on the note. It wasn’t his best handwriting, but you can tell he was trying his hardest.
He glanced at the card again, beginning to feel self-conscious about his writing. There wasn’t much he could do now, he supposes.
Dude stands up again, stretching his back and taking the bouquet of roses he put on the bench. He should be able to make it home before you get home. It’ll be a nice surprise for either of you either way.
[Image ID: A simplistic, digital drawing of four people linking arms with smiles on their faces. The person furthest to the left of the viewer is waving. They have pride flags on their shirts in order left to right: lesbian, gay/rainbow, bi, and trans. End ID]
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