#again this is coming from a trans guy (who finds it extremely difficult to pass and gets misgendered daily)

[sspiderj]

i'm sorry but Unhappy Campers just makes me think about how it's easier for trans men to pass than it is for trans women

[secretgamergirl]

A Little Horrifying Primer on Transphobes

Some time ago, I put together a Little Fact Checking Primer on Trans People, as a basic resource for disabusing people of some of the many completely ridiculous yet absurdly widespread beliefs about trans people that simply have no basis whatsoever in reality. And wouldn’t you know it, every single lie exposed in that primer is not only still widely believed, but is presently being used as a basis to sign some absolutely horrific human rights abuses into law. So it’s high time I follow that up, in this case focused more on who keeps actively spreading these lies and why. I’m going to try and keep things as light as I can here, but we’re going to be looking at the most monstrous side of human nature, so apologies in advance if this is a dark read.

First, let me just note that there are two things I don’t plan to do in this piece. I’m not going to waste time debunking the arguments of the people I’m highlighting (much of this is already covered in my earlier primer, others have done the work in cases where I haven’t, and frankly these people’s claims should be self-evidently utter nonsense to begin with). I am also going to be very selective in what I link to, or even share related images of, as I would frankly not like to fill a post on a blog I generally try to keep safe for all audiences with media directly dealing with, for instance, child sexual assault, and much of the relevant information also involves stochastic terrorism against innocent people, and I would prefer not to throw more fuel onto such fires.

Transphobes lie constantly, about everything.

To some degree this is obvious. We’re talking about people who scaremonger about the possibilities of trans women dominating competitive sports and assaulting people in restrooms, despite the status quo already reflecting the conditions they insist would make these inevitibilities for decades and centuries respectively, and their grim visions never once having come to pass, and also constantly insisting that the woman in the photo below is actually a man, going further to say this is evident to anyone giving her the merest glance.

It goes beyond that though. There’s at least a little plausible deniablity in claims like this, or that “science is on their side” if they were simply uninformed about the world they live in, never actually looking into what laws exist, what science actually says, and never actually meeting a trans person or even seeing a picture of one of us. I’m talking really bold lies here. Like wholecloth fabricating a story that a convicted murder was trans, including anecdotes about wigs dresses and a planned name change, in a major newspaper. Or to cite an old favorite of mine, the time a pack of bigots walked up to a crowd of people peacefully picketing a transphobic legal proposal, started roughing them up and taking closeup photos of members of the crowd to stalk online when they got home, got sufficiently riled up for one to straight up assault an innocent person half her size, filmed the whole thing, uploaded it to youtube, and used stills of that assault as acomanying photos when they went home to write articles about the assailant being a “grandmother” attacked by rowdy trans women. And yes, they did monkey’s paw my wish to see that specific image on newspapers. Interesting side note, when it came to real public light that J.K. Rowling endorsed this sort of hatred, it was because she accidentally pasted some profanity laden rambling about how the imagined moral character of the other party in that incident, years after the fact, into a post praising a child’s fan art of her work.

To be a little less niche, transphobes can’t get enough of spreading the lie that the young fellow in this photo is a girl. Specifically a trans girl, providing proof that all their scaremongering about the dastardly threat of trans girls in competitive sports has finally come to pass.

To be fully clear, that’s a man (or a boy if you want to split hairs about him being 17 in that photo). Mack Beggs. A rather insidious choice for this sort of story, considering the actual context for that photo. See, Beggs attended high school in Texas, during a (still ongoing as I write this) period wherein that particular state had caved to this exact sort of propaganda, and in order to head off a wholly imagined wave of trans girls competing on girls’ sports teams, and enacted a law mandating that in all such competitions must compete under whatever gender is stated on their birth certificates. And as it happens, the first, and to my knowledge ONLY time this has come up was with Beggs here, who again, is a man, as no one with a grip on reality could argue against, has “female” on his birth certificate. Which is another way of saying he is a trans man. The guys in the same boat as trans women who we talk about a whole hell of a lot less because their existence is extremely inconvenient to the majority of transphobic propaganda. Case in point. And this is all information it is really impossible to come across if you’re coming across this photo in any sort of respectable source. Take this story, which is as unambiguous about this as you can get. And yet, in the very comments section of that story, there they are. Carrying on like this story about a trans guy, forced by a transphobic law to compete as a girl, which he absolutely did not want, and received horrific threats over, using phrases like “female to male” and bringing up that he was assigned female at birth and is on testosterone-based HRT, is about a trans woman cheating the system. Or to quote word for word, “Now also transgender female want to be male also compete in female sport. biological born“ That’s not “being confused,” that’s standing next to you in a white desert and complaining about being adrift in a black ocean, bald-faced, not even trying to be convincing just make a power play, lying through one’s teeth.

I could spend this whole article on just this point. Lying about who they are, various people’s falsified credentials, whole websites full of “anonymous parents of children who think they’re trans” turning out to be one single woman documenting the abuse of her very much trans son, or of course the people behind the whole “bathroom bill” panic candidly admitting it was all based on utter fiction. I do have other points to cover though.

Transphobes are firmly entrenched in the media.

It is extremely difficult to find oneself in a position of having to explain to people that a particular group of people is effectively in control of press outlets, as that is rather classically a claim conspiracy theorists absolutely love to toss around at various marginalized groups (including trans people hilariously enough, but of course the most common and lingering version of this is the antisemitic variant). I really can’t get around it here though. Specifically in the U.K., you honestly can say that transphobes control the media. I already touched on this with the assault case I mentioned above and the fabricated story about the murderer, but this is a pretty well-documented situation. I mean, even The Guardian calls out The Guardian on this, and that’s the outlet that gets the most attention because it’s the one with the most otherwise respected name, but every paper in the country has been running transphobic propaganda pieces on a weekly if not daily basis for years now, and while they do get reprimanded by watchdog groups and have mass walk-outs over the worst of it, it’s not like there’s some governing body with the authority to step in about it. Meanwhile the BBC is constantly inviting diehard zealots like Graham Linehan to news programs where he compares being trans to being a nazi, and hosting debates where someone just sits down and repeatedly chants the word “penis” at a trans woman.

Things are better in the rest of the world, but we still have right-wing creeps like Jesse Singal both writing horrific propaganda pieces (we’ll get back to that one) and blackballing trans writers out of covering trans issues ourselves (and personally stalking the hell out of those of us who try). We’ve got our Joe Rogans and Tucker Carlsons out there (no way in hell I’m linking videos here, have a real information link and a still).

The line between diehard transphobes and straight-up nazis basically does not exist.

What even is there to say here? You can easily poke around havens for nazi activity for yourself and compare the particular unique vocabulary used there to the primary bastion of anti-trans hate speech on the internet (the “feminism” section of what was originally a site for parenting tips before violent fascists took the forums over) or just peruse the follows of the thousands of people I’ve blocked on social media and see if you can sort out a clear division in the networks of channers with frog avatars and the accounts with names like GoodieXXrealwoman, or you can read up on Gab and Spinster, the two twitter alternatives that are just different portals to the same server, set up by the same guy. Maybe do some research into “the LGB Alliance,” or WoLF but any way you slice it the only real difference to be found is the general purpose nazis take a little time off now and then to watch borderline pedophilic anime and the really dedicated transphobes think to use language that sounds vaguely well-educated and left-leaning. I mean, this came from the “feminist” side of the fence:

And not to belabor the point here, but the ones claiming to be a bunch of “feminist mums” sure do let the mask slip any time they’re confronted with the fact that “women” includes black women, and oh just have a whole thread about all the weird conspiratory theories these people have about how trans people’s whole existence is some sort of Jewish plot for world domination. I swear a few months ago they were all passing around a story about some bank having an above average number of trans employees and they were all just “and we all know who controls the banks, right?” about it.

Transphobes endorse an awful lot of people who are openly pro-pedophila.

This is the part where I am really loath to link the many many specific examples I have on hand. Or to talk about this at all for reasons of good taste. Or, for that matter, to talk about this in a tumblr post when there’s an ongoing problem of people with backgrounds strongly tied to this site making baseless accusations of pedophilia against every queer person they can find, so let me be very clear just what I’m talking about while avoiding anything too graphic.

That’s James Cantor. Transphobes love him for being one of the closest things they have to a scientist on their side. And I am featuring him in a screenshot here showing that he is followed by current queen of the transphobes J.K. Rowling, while speaking to both another big name in transphobic circles, Debra Soh, and based on their names, what I’m guessing is at least one straight-up nazi. And in case you think “the P” he’s talking about adding to LGBT (or “GLBT” as weird anti-queer bigots who also have issues with women often write it) might stand for “poly” or “pan” he’s all too happy to clarify that.

This is the entire thrust of Cantor’s work and life. He is the world’s biggest pedophile rights advocate. He wants it declassified as a mental disorder, all stigma on it removed, and tirelessly pushes forward the idea that the majority of.. people who feel compelled to sexually assault children are good people who present no potential harm to anyone and should in fact be lauded.

I am not generally one to claim that someone with a PhD is spewing out questionable garbage with regard to their field, but the reason I am aware of Cantor at all is that other transphobes keep trying to hold up a particular post on his blog as "a study” (which it is not) that offers “proof” (in the form of a blurry jpeg of basically some random numbers) of some ridiculous quackery about how trans kids will “grow out of it” if exposed to conversion therapy (another way of saying torture), which Cantor himself seems to be pushing, so I am somewhat skeptical of his academic chops. And I am, of course, REALLY suspicious that all these other bigots gravitate to him purely because they’re that desperate to find anyone with a PhD in anything that backs them up against literally every scientist in a relative field, to the point that they merely forgive his particular advocacy they are plainly all aware of, particularly when such a common fig leaf used by transphobes is “keeping children safe from sexual deviants.”

And of course, Cantor is most often invoked when coming to the defense of Kenneth Zucker. This Kenneth Zucker.

Those are separate papers. Zucker isn’t controversial though for organizing panels to discuss how attractive people agree small children are (at least not exclusively). Mostly, he’s known for running a conversion therapy center which subjected gay and trans children to various sorts of torture in an effort to “fix” them, which at least for those trans "patients” I have spoken with involved a fair amount of having them strip completely naked and talking a lot about their genitals.

Zucker is something of a controversial figure with the transphobic scene, as they are extremely on board with his sexual torture of queer children, but he does actual work (for some value of the term) involving trans people and thus is not able to commit as fully as they would prefer to making life horrible for trans people, due to a professional obligation to acknowledge reality now and then. As an aside, the similarly positioned Ray Blanchard, while not to my knowledge particularly interested in the attractiveness of children, lives in a similar purgatory of trying to reconcile his career, bigotry, and sexual hangups, yielding compromises like this:

Of course, that’s just looking at the straws transphobes grasp at when looking for scientific credibility. Real leaders of the movement include Germaine Greer, author of The Beautiful Boy, which is about what you are afraid it might be, and features a very young child in a cover feature he did not consent to posing for. Or Julie Bindel, who among other things is rather infamous for writing whole articles on subjects like whether a teenage girl she came across maybe has a huge penis you can totally see if you really squint at her skirt. Again, I will not share a link to go along with that one.

Transphobes terrorize and attempt to defund charities and other unambiguously good organizations.

Graham Linehan, previously best known for cowriting some sitcoms and possibly spending a year angling to get into my pants so awkwardly I didn’t pick up on it is now best known for trying to pull the plug on a children’s charity, in a story that somehow also involves Donkey Kong. Well, and the interview about nazis. And possibly the other interview about “defending me from nazis” until it got into his head that I might not be as young and hot as he imagined. Rather not link to a far right extremist youtube channel though.

There’s also a current effort to replace Stonewall (an organization named after the location where a pair of trans women kicked off a riot which is generally agreed to be the start of the LGBT+ rights movement) as the UK’s primary LGBT+ rights organization with the “LGB Alliance.” The hate group mentioned above, with the skull face and the rifle. Closest I can find to an article on that effort on short notice that isn’t propaganda.

Transphobes paper areas in truly disgusting propaganda.

I don’t want to directly link to grown adults skulking around children’s playgrounds and bathrooms plastering surfaces with mass printed stickers of crudely drawn penises, but would encourage you to read this very long post, being sure to load all the images, to really understand how deeply strange this behavior gets.

Finally, I cannot stress this enough, this really extreme behavior I’m citing, and the specific people involved in the examples I’m giving, these aren’t random cranks on the fringe of things. The people going on televised panel discussions, writing up news stories, and testifying before lawmakers in efforts to pass horrifically discriminatory if not literally life-endangering laws (there is a major ongoing effort to legally end all medical care for trans people, and I don’t just mean care directly relating to being trans) are literally the same people involved in the sexualization of children, nazi collaborations, and roving gangs assaulting people in the street. At a bare minimum I urge people, when booking guests and handing out writing contracts, to do background checks and see if they’re platforming actual terrorists. If we could actually bring legal consequences to bear against the worst of this, that would be great too. As things stand though, the whole world is just consistently citing a bunch of racist, woman-hating, serial liars with no real credentials, and questionable attitudes towards the sexual abuse of children, as “trusted experts” and refusing to seat actual trans people or people who have legitimately committed lifetimes to academic and practical work with trans people any seats at the table.

[vi-is-for-gay]

My coming out story

When I figured out I wasn't exactly what I was biologically assigned

Hi everyone!

This is meant more of a stream of consciousness online journal to help me think about my life.

I am Asian, Vietnamese. I was born in Los Angeles, CA and moved to Atlanta, GA, when I was 5 or 6 years old. I consider myself growing up in the deep south with conservatives and a strong Christian Baptist society.

I am AMAB and sometime in October I came out to myself that I am transgender. I seriously debated with myself that because I was able to have romantic relationships with women and I was then having a 'cis' relationship. It felt wrong and it felt guilty.

I wasn't sure what to make of my feelings:

I was a guy

I liked girls

But I also liked dresses and envied how girls could be so soft, had their ability to have a supportive social network, warm personalities, and a feeling of belonging, mostly

About 3 years ago, I confessed to a friend who came out gay to me that I had crossdressed when I was younger and that I always wondered what my life would be like if I was born a woman. I had these thoughts all my life that it was a bunch of 'what ifs' but I came to terms with my body and what I was. I guess that's why I've always been overweight; I never liked it and I didn't really desire the male idea of perfection of a 6 packs and toned muscles.

The feeling of being out of place started young. I was just a small child when I told myself I couldn't like yellow because it was a girl's color so I chose blue because it was neutral. I don't remember how old I was or when it was, but it was young and most likely under 10. I regret that choice. Today I embrace yellow.

In elementary school, I was placed into a group with 3 girls and one of them accidentally called me 'she/her' and then corrected herself. I remember feeling disappointed that she corrected herself.

I had a phase when there was lotion provided and I ran up with some other girls to get some. This was around in 4th grade. The music teacher said boys don't get lotion and I remember violently rubbing it on my jeans to fit in and feeling strongly ashamed.

During puberty I felt something wrong was happening. I saw the girls around me start growing breasts and they would compare cup sizes. Their friendships grew stronger. My relative male relationships fell apart and I felt that I got the short end of the stick. I felt that I was always missing out by being a guy because I didn't like what they had to offer.

When I was young, roughly middle school age, I went through a /phase/ where I tried to be emo/scene. It was that they had long hair, skinny jeans, and that appealed to me because men were acceptable in that scene. During the same time I would time these crossdressing episodes when the parents would be out of the house and it was just my brother and I at home. I'd set him up at the computer playing the RPG classic 'Sacred' and I'd rummage in my mom's closet trying a bunch of stuff on: dresses, skirts, panties, panty hose, blouses, etc. I took a strong liking to panty hose but my dad found out and said I'm not supposed to wear that. That whole phase stopped soon after because I didn't want to get caught again.

During that stint I tried to grow out my hair and I got a straightening iron. Issue was that I didn't know how to take care of long hair and Asian hair is naturally straight. I didn't have access to internet so I could not rationalize my feelings and find that there was a community that existed. My mom convinced me to cut off my hair because I didn't know how to maintain it and she said boys should have short hair, so I chose to fit in and repress how I felt for the greater good.

During my high school years we got internet access and I began to get educated on the world and it's sexuality. I was constantly looking up the concept of Male to Female Transsexual, reading stories of transition, pre op and post op, and I vividly remember one of them mentioning dialiation and it accidently feeling good, like what downstairs could feel like. I took several quizzes but they all pointed to me being male brained with some female aspect. I feel that it came from repressing and the constant 'I need to fit in' mentality from my culture. It was difficult being first born Vietnamese American.

I became a much better person in university when I found people who I related to strongly. I created a social network of mostly women with some standing on the LGBTQ spectrum. I considered myself a strong ally and I supported them. I always thought of myself as the token guy in the group.

It finally clicked one day last year that I envied women because I wanted to be like one, so stage one was this definition called:

Male lesiban.

Yeah it was sort of weird.

After doing more research and talking to close friends I trusted, I realized that I was a woman inside and that I liked women. The amount of visibility for Trans-Lesibans extremely helped my process of coming out to myself and coming to terms with my now, much more confusing (but also much more warm and soft) future. Tumblr incredibly helped because I was instantly thrown into a pro LGBTQ world. I was always afraid of Tumblr and maybe it was that I was afraid of coming out to myself because I just knew.

There was so much of my life that just 'clicked' the instant I called myself a woman. All those events in my childhood made sense. Why I strongly resented strong displays of masculinity was because I didn't want that for myself.

I was attracted to long hair in women.

I was attracted to soft women in body and personality.

I was attracted to social groups and a sense of belonging.

All of a sudden it was that

I wanted long hair

I wanted to be soft in body and personality

I wanted to have a close knit social group that society generally encourages.

And all of a sudden I was immediately thrown into the LGBTQ community as a violently strong member and from supporting their fights and issues, it became my personal fight too.

I came out to that friend who came out to me first. She gave me her support and love.

I came out to my close social group. They all gave their support and love.

I came out to my girlfriend. She gave me her support and love. Importantly, she said something that makes me warm every time:

I don't really care about your flesh prison and whatever you're really doing to it. I think right now you're just redecorating. I love the operating system underneath, I love the brain that controls the flesh prison, I love the spirit that inhabits this body. I love you (y o u) you. You're still cute and I love you.

After coming out to my group, I spent roughly 200 dollars on women's clothing. I bought a gaff, panties, sports bra, actual bra, camis, leggings, jeans, khakis, socks, a cute cardigan, and breast forms both adhesive and non.

I bought makeup: foundation, loose powder, eyeliner on pencil and liquid, lip stain, lip balm, lip stick, facial cleaner and day/night moisturizer, eyebrow pencil and tweezers.

The moment I put a cami on and looked in the mirror, I felt 'right'. I had a strong bubbly warm feeling in the mirror. It was literally euphoric and the feeling I've read about before in many MTF blogs and stories.

I took the cami off like women would by holding opposite sides of the shirt and pulling it over my head. The same feeling came back

I put on breast forms and had boobs. The same feeling came back.

I went out in androgynous style with skinny jeans, tucked in t shirt, boots, and a flannel to complete a lesiban look. Same feeling.

I'm so confused, but happy. I feel like soup. I don't know what I'm made of or what's inside. I just know that right now I'm warm and happy.

But I'm struggling. Now I have to consider my future.

Do I come out to my Asian conservative parents?

Do I come out to my girlfriend's parents who think being gay is a //lifestyle// and are heavily Christian?

Do I consider HRT? Do I consider surgery?

I don't know. I don't really know.

I have some pipe dream of being able to pass as a woman in public. It went from passing online to passing at home to passing in public. I don't know.

Everything has changed so quickly and I'm afraid of what might come next.

I'm lucky that right now I'm financially supported. I'm about to graduate with an engineering degree with prospects for graduate school. I'm lucky that what I wanted to do is worth a lot of money. I don't know socially what's going to happen to me.

[sillysandersides]

You’re Family

Please please never ever ever bind with ace bandages!!! It can be really bad for your health!! Stay safe! 

Virgil always woke up earlier than the rest of the sides mostly because his sleep patterns were always awful but more importantly it was so he could get dressed.Virgil would go into the bathroom lift up his shirt trying not to stare at his body for too long, because he knew that if he did the dysphoria would hit him really hard. So before any of that would happen he would lift his shirt grab ace bandages and wrap them around his chest, he’d put his hoodie on over his shirt and smile at his flattened chest. He really should come out to the other sides, he had many opportunities to like when Roman saw him with a box of tampons asking why he had them Virgil made up that they were just in case a girl came over and needed them. Luckily it worked so Roman dismissed any further questions leaving Virgil a flustered mess. He could of mentioned it when he lashed out at Patton when he burnt Virgil’s toast on accident. Patton looked shocked and Virgil felt awful he ended up crying in the middle of the kitchen blubbering apologies to Patton, who looked concerned but let him cry into his arms. Yet Virgil hadn’t told them that he was Trans, maybe he was scared of rejection, but he knew that was stupid because Thomas himself was very accepting and Virgil couldn’t picture any of the sides disrespecting him due to him being Trans but it definitely was something he feared. So he kept it a secret, he wasn’t planning on telling any of the sides. That was until he woke up to all of them looking down at him faces full of concern

It was a normal day for Virgil that was until Patton suggested that they all go to the park because it was “such a beautiful day we shouldn’t stay inside” so that’s how he ended up in the middle of a park sulking. “Hey Hot Topic stop sulking and play tag with us!” Roman shouts panting a bit. Virgil rolls his eyes “Why should I Princey?” he pushes. Roman rolls his eyes “It’s fun, and your it!” he shouts as he taps Virgil’s arm “Oh were safe when we touch the willow tree!” Roam shouts. Virgil rolls his eyes and begins to run trying to tag the other sides. After a while he begins to get uncomfortable his chest is hurting and he’s finding it difficult to breathe. Originally he was going to blame it on being unfit but as it grew and his chest tightened he had no clue what it was. He tried to look around for any of the sides he saw Logan out of the corner of his eye and he called out “L-Logan!” the floor was swaying and he felt really dizzy and he thought to himself I’m going to close my eyes just for a little.  

He woke up to see all of the sides faces full of concern then it hit him his bandages. “Kiddo?” Patton asked “What happened one minute you were running and the next your on the ground?” Patton asks “Obviously he fainted, we are just unsure of what could of caused this.” Logan recited. Virgil tried to get up wincing loudly “hey, hey slowly.” Patton warned Virgil felt tears prick his eyes how could he have been so stupid. They were going to find out. They were going to hate him. They were going to think he was stupid. Then he felt a hand on his he looked up “hey breathe buddy its okay.” Roman soothed. Virgil took in a shaky breathe hoping he wouldn’t cry in front of them. “Let me help you.” Roman picked him up bridal style and helped him to the car Virgil knew he had to take the bandages off but he didn’t want to do it in front of the others but he could feel his breaths shortening. “Kiddo are you okay? Your not in trouble we just want to make sure your okay.” Patton asked Virgil nodded realizing he had no other choice but to take it off unless he wanted to pass out again. 

He slowly lifted his shirt shutting his eyes tightly as he began to unwrap his bandages feeling better but also feeling the bruises on his chest. Suddenly he heard a gasp and he opened his eyes. Oh god they saw, they must hate me, oh god there going to yell at me. he thought to him self. “Virgil.” Patton called softly. Virgil opened is eyes to see the sides looking at him all concerned. “Virgil you know you should not bind, with ace bandages for they are extremely harmful for your health. Which you can see because of the fact that you passed out earlier and that you have noticeable bruising on your chest.” Logan said Virgil stared in disbelief “I..I” he stuttered then he broke down. “I couldn’t tell you...I didn’t know how....I was s-sacred..I-I’m sorry.” He sobbed. 

They made it back home and Roman helped him to the couch were his waited for rejection. what he wasn’t expecting...a hug? All the sides were hugging Logan hugging him from behind and Roman’s arms around his waist and Patton’s arms around his neck. “We love you Verge, we are sorry if you felt like we wouldn’t of accepted you.” Roman said softly. Virgil looked up at Roman “I’m sorry I was just so scared to say anything.” He mumbled “Its not any or your guys fault.” The others let go and look at him. Logan clears his throat “You’ll need to heal so you wont able to bind for a while but we respect you and let any of us know if you need anything.” Virgil feels his eyes tear up “Thank you so much.” He hugs the rest of the sides tightly a smile growing on his face. They all nod “Of course kiddo remember your famILY.” Patton responds wiping his eyes slightly. 

One day Virgil is handed a box by Patton a big grin on his face. “What is this?” Virgil asks “Open it!” Patton smiles Virgil gives Patton as suspicious look but opens the box anyway. He gasps and covers his mouth tears spilling down his face. “I-It’s a binder.” he gasps. Patton smiles “Look at it.” he responds Virgil takes it out of the box to see a small thunder cloud on it. “P-Pat.” Virgil responded tears spilling down his cheeks. “Do you like it?” Virgil nodded getting up and hugging Patton. “Thank you so much!” he replies. Patton smiles “Of course kiddo, your famILY.” 

[lethesomething]

The definitely not definitive otome guide

I sincerely doubt the world needs this, but that sort of thing has never stopped me before. Have an extremely biased guide of several dating sim games, organised by some arbitrary metrics.

Word of warning: this will be long (4k words), because I've played an embarrassingly large amount of otomes.

As a disclaimer: obviously this is a personal opinion. If you (as a lot of people do) enjoy the more forceful bad boy type in your dating sim, I’m not going to judge you. I, however, don’t, so this list is very specifically going to call out games for how they treat the protag.

Featured here: Amnesia: Memories,  Blood in Roses, Cutie Demon Crashers, Destined to Love, Dream Daddy, Hatoful Boyfriend, Hustle Cat,  Ikemen Revolution, Ikemen Sengoku, Lost Alice,  Midnight Cinderella,  Monster Prom, Mystic Messenger

A note on play styles.

These games come in a few flavours, which is important to know if you're gonna try them.

The vast majority of the mobile games here follow a basic visual novel structure. You pick a guy and read through the different chapters, and depending on your answers you'll be leaning toward one of two or three endngs. Since these are free to play mobiles, there's a bunch of challenges you will need to log in daily to pass.  

Mystic Messenger is the main outlier, since it's a chat simulator that plays in real time.

The pc games tend to be more complex, with interlocking routes and more endings, generally. You'll need a number of skill points to meet character A for instance, or you'll need to do a series of actions to reach ending B.

  Great games

Ikemen Sengoku

Hands down one of the best mobile otomes out there right now. I found this when searching for pics of Masamune Date (from a different game) and I've sort of been obsessed with otomes since.

Platform: Android (free to play, pay for premiums) Story: MC gets sucked into a wormhole and finds herself 500 years back in time, in Sengoku era Japan. She drops in on the exact moment where Nobunaga Oda, the Demon King, would be assassinated at Honno-ji. She stops the murder, disrupts the timeline and now there's a bunch of hot warlords vying for her attention. Protagonist’s spine: Reinforced steel. This is one of my favourite protags, because she is Super Sassy and doesn't take shit, unless she's literally being threatened with a sword. The protags where I feel like I understand their actions are few and far between, but this is one of them. Except when she goes far beyond mere bravery to get her man, and decides to forgo tampons and, like, wifi, to live 500 years in the god damn past. Squick factor: Low. This game is made by Cybird, a company that appears very big on consent. The guys generally treat MC with respect, probably more than could be reasonably asked of a Sengoku warlord. The only worrying stuff happens in the Obvious Yandere route, but you kinda know what you're getting yourself into with that one.

The Good: I friggin love the writing for this game. The guys feel like real characters, there's a ton of interaction between them and I need to give this game extra points for the story events, which are almost invariably gold. This is where the makers stop giving a shit about realism and just go for what they want to write. There's ones where all the guys are suddenly idols, there's a Christmas episode, there's one where they battle through cooking and cleaning. It doesn't take itself serious, is what i mean, and it's Hilarious. The Bad: This is one where the in-game art (aside from the CG's) is actually not that great. Hideyoshi's smile is kinda weird looking and the models feel a little outdated at this point. Best Warlord: This is very difficult, because a lot of them are dreamy, but let's just say that I need a Mitsuhide route so very badly.

 Ikemen Revolution

The newest Cybird game and my current fave.

Story: MC falls down the rabbit hole when she tries to give a rushed White Rabbit man something he dropped. She ends up in Cradle/Wonderland, where war is about to break out between the Red and Black army, the Hearts and the Spades. Everyone is hot dudes and MC is considered Alice the Second (after the one from Through the Looking Glass). Squick factor: Low. Again: Cybird game. This means there is steamy situations and sex scenes, but they're blatantly consensual. The routes I've played so far keep well within the bounds of what I would consider romantic. Protagonist’s spine: Varnished wood.  In general MC is self-propelling with occasional bouts of bravery. You can tell why she's doing the things she's doing and how she reacts to situations feels sort of logical. She's hard-working and caring and a little naïve, but the fact that she's canonically a woman from early 19th Century London does put a lot of her actions in perspective (like the amount of bullshit she puts up with).

The Good: The writing is fun. There's a good mix of angst and just… general comedy. The characters interact with each other a lot, and it feels like they're a big loud family, especially in the Black Army, which is more like a frat than anything else. The art is also decent. The backgrounds are utterly gorgeous and most of the guys are very good looking. When I first started the game I was weirded out by the blinking animation, but I have since gotten used to that. The Bad: I found some of the plot rushed. Like you spend so long slow burn growing toward each other, and then suddenly stuff has to happen action movie style because we're running out of chapters. The final chapters of Fenrir's route were just plain dumb. Like could that BE more of an obvious trap. Come on MC, I expected better of you. Also, since this is a very new game, not that many routes are out (four at the time of writing). Best boy: Hooo man. Of the routes that are out, Ray is very… oooof. But my fave chars are probably 'so done' Sirius (the fact that he's voiced by Suwabe has nothing to do with this, surely) and 'also quite done' Kyle, who is both a doctor and an alcoholic wreck of a human being.

 Mystic Messenger

You know Mystic Messenger, it's like one of the biggest otome's of the past few years.

Platform: Android, iOS (free to play, pay for extra saves and stuff) The Story: MC follows a text message to a weirdly high tech apartment and this somehow puts her in the position of party planner for a secretive group of weird people. It only gets more complicated from there. The game plays out in real time, via chat conversations and the occasional story segment. Squick factor: Um. I personally wasn't weirded out, but I also decided very specifically not to play Jumin's route. This girl did her research. The routes in Another Story are also very over the top and would probably bug me. While I love the Saeran character, I don't think I'd be able to handle that route. So: highly dependent on chosen route. Protagonist’s spine: Adderall. It takes a specific kind of person to download a chat app and follow the instructions given by a random stranger therein. It takes a much stranger person to sit in an apartment with a bomb and just keep inviting people to a party. MC is on a different level from us mortals.

The Good: I loved the game mechanic, because it felt very real. The player is following a chatroom, just like the character is. Besides that, the story is completely bonkers and I appreciate that. The Bad: Did I mention it plays in real time? Because it plays in real time, meaning you get chat conversations at two in the morning. I was very sleep deprived when I played this. Best boy: 707. Dude is funny and deep and hot and relatable and smart and I want to give him all the hugs.

 Dream Daddy

One of the few decidedly mlm games I've played so far. You've probably heard of it since it was the subject of much hype and much controversy. Markiplier played it. Friggin Buzzfeed has video's on it.

Platform: PC and Mac (it's on Steam) The Story: MC is a Dad who moves into a neighbourhood with a lot of other single(-ish) dads. Time to work it. Squick factor: Low. This is primarily a humour game: there's a ton of dad jokes and silly mini games, and a distinct lack of kabe don's. The canon routes are all very thoughtful. Protagonist’s spine: Barbecued sausage. Player Dad just goes for it. He’s flexible and caring enough to handle the more sensitive subjects, and self aware enough to deal with random crime and weird drunks.

The Good: I remember opening this game and, in the character creation screen, telling a trans friend of mine 'omg you can wear binders', and the sheer Glee of his reaction. That's the kinda stuff this game was, partly, made for and it is appreciated. I really liked the tongue-in-cheek writing, most of the jokes landed and the whole thing is just a lot of fun. The Bad: Some of the minigames are annoying. Why the hell are you making me play Bejeweled with fish? I also had a hard time sympathizing with some of the kids. I mean… Lucien straight up tries to murder someone? Ernest is 'rebellious' but he's also an ass. Best dad: Damien has the best route, but have you Seen Mat? Holy moly.

 Not worth it games

Amnesia: Memories

This game should come with a friggin warning, so I'm giving it here. Its popularity and star rating is a terrible indicator for how much you may enjoy this game. It presents itself as a cute dating sim with gorgeous art, but it devolves into straight up horror, and not in the good way. This feels like a guidebook written in the 1800's to tell young women their place. Not even mortified intrigue could make me finish this. 

Platform: PC (Steam or Google Play) and PlayStation Vita Story: MC wakes up with amnesia. Someone hurt her and she doesn't know who to trust. You'll need to figure out what happened. Squick factor: Super high. Like… so high.  Everyone treats MC like shit and she just lets it happen, even developing all kinds of Stockholm Syndrome as she falls in love with these asshats. MC's childhood friend supposedly loves her but is such a tsun and just… doesn't communicate while also treating her like a small child. One of the other characters is so popular he has a fucking harem but MC is just supposed to wait for him to actually fall in love with her. And don't even get me started on that friggin yandere. *shudders* Even the secret route 'true love' character is a million types of wrong. Protagonist’s spine: Undercooked custard. MC has the self preservation skills of a wet sponge and whoever is playing this is supposed to get turned on by high concept ideas of S&M that are just written out so badly everything feels like an abusive relationship.

The Good: *sigh* The art. The art is very pretty (I'm upset at the art since it sucked me into the horror). Also, as a visual novel, this one is complex as all hell. There's a ton of endings  (most of them deadly) depending your actions as a player. It's vast, is what I'm saying. Also, I hear the clover route isn't as bad as some of the others, but I was too weirded out to try. The Bad: See rant. This is one of those games that really seems to glorify the whole possessive, abusive boyfriend shtick, but it's ok because he loves you, really. Ugh. Just… ugh. Best boy: Kent? I guess? He doesn't appear to be actively abusing MC at least.

 Shall we date: Lost Alice

I wondered if I should include this because I literally played like ten chapters  and then deleted it, but that in itself should give some indication.

Platform: Android (free to play, in-app premium purchases) Story: MC wakes up in the forest with amnesia (I see a trend). Turns out she's in Wonderland and everyone thinks she's Alice. Most of Wonderland's characters are, predictably, hot men. Squick  factor: Unavailable. I didn't play far enough to see but some of the men are quite pushy and also it's a Shall we date app, so… tread carefully. Protagonist’s spine: Cement. This is an MC that puts up a fight, which I respect. Sadly she does so in that 'needlessly aggressive' way that anime characters sometimes have. I didn't find her particularly sympathetic.

The Good: The art. It's always the art that gets me. The Bad: The UI annoyed the shit out of me. This is a free to play, pay for premiums game, so some level of mindless clicking is expected if you try to play for free. This one had just too much. There was friend greeting and picture rating and princess lessons and got knows what else, all taking a ton of time. Trying to get to the home page popped up at least four different 'now on sale' screens every single time. The writing wasn't good enough for me to deal with that. Best boy: Well there’s a cat. So.

 Decent games

Hustle cat

This game is set in a cat café, that was all the encouragement I needed to buy it.

Platform: PC (Steam) Story: MC is invited to take a job at a cat café. Turns out everyone in the café is cursed, and also they're into you. Squick factor: Almost non-existant. This is a very tumblr friendly game in the sense that your love interests are both male and female, and none of them are particularly pushy. The relationships feel pretty natural and mostly consist of MC helping their love interest with some subquest. Protagonist’s spine: Cucumber. MC is actually pretty cool. The game does that 'modern western game' thing where you get to pick a gender and a skin colour for your protag and the general atmosphere is 'tongue in cheek'. MC doesn't let people walk over them, but they're generally helpful.

The Good: CATS. The premise of this game is pretty neat. The Bad: According to Steam I played this five months ago, and I pretty much forgot about it. Fun game but not particularly memorable. Best cat: Landry. Tall, gentle giants are a particular weakness.

 Shall we date: Blood in Roses

This is me giving Shall we Date another shot, because the amount of hot mildly medieval boys was intriguing.

Platform: Android (free to play, in-app premiums) Story: There's two, because this app has been around for a while and now has two 'seasons'. The Witch stumbles upon a supposedly abandoned castle and gets imprisoned there by a bunch of vampires. The Hunter, meanwhile, seeks out the castle because she wants to stop an attack on her village. Both come to realize that the castle is now a hotel for monsters, and that its denizens are both not what they imagined, and also hot. Squick factor: Highly dependent on route. The Witch literally starts in a jail cell, so you can imagine the Stockholm Syndrome shit that goes down. Also, this is a personal preference, but I'm really weirded out by a lot of blood play stuff so most of the vampire routes are gonna be… problematic. Shall we Date games don't shy away from sex scenes and I like that, but coupling them with drinking blood 'to get in the mood' is a rather specific niche. The game does offer a number of other options for you to court, from werewolves to wizards and… grim reapers? It's a mixed batch. If you're not into pushed boundaries I can offer one tip: stay away from the vampires. Protagonist’s spine: Sand cookie. She has one, but it's brittle. I've mostly played Hunter routes and it's like… she tries, and she can take care of herself but she also tolerates more bullshit than necessary, ya know.

The Good: The art is good, and some of the storylines are intriguing despite my reservations. I'm still playing it (mostly in a quest to find a good ending where MC doesn't die to become a weird immortal creature).  The UI, while annoying, isn't as bad as Lost Alice's, or so it seems. The Bad: The writing is very hit or miss. There's routes where the guy just sort of lowkey stalks MC, until she suddenly decides she's incredibly in love with him. There's others  that make even less sense, and then there's ones that feel more natural. In general, MC's actions don't  seem to have a lot of thought put into them. Best boy: So far: Gordon. He's cute and sensible and tortured and not incredibly antagonistic.

 Midnight Cinderella

You'll notice a friggin ton of Cybird games on here.

Platform: Android (free to play, premium purchases) Story: MC gets, mostly by accident, chosen to be the Princess of Wysteria. As such she must prepare to govern the country when the king dies, and choose a consort from a number of suitors. Squick factor: Low. Not only are these men respectful of her, they're rather literally treating her like royalty. Having said that, there is a lot of the typical hurtful tsun stuff going in several routes. Protagonist’s spine: Lightly done steak. There's something weird going on with the protag in this game. When it comes to governing, she's tough as nails. She's thrown into a situation she wasn't ready for, and while this stresses her out 24/7, she performs admirably. On the other hand, her main reaction to literally anything when it comes to love is 'Oh'. She cries a lot, at times she feels like a wet rag. There's a bunch of situations she could have just solved by going 'Yeah I'm into you'. She's complex, I guess.

The Good: The writing, while melodramatic, is nice. The art is good as well. The Bad: This is an old game and it doesn't perform that well on my current-gen smartphone. Expect to push certain buttons several times before the game realizes what you're trying to do. Also the loading takes ages. Best boy: For me, Sid, because he reminds me of Aomine Daiki and I'm weak for that type of personality. As far as routes go, Leo's probably had the most impact on me.

 Destined to Love

I'll be honest, I started this because of an event in Ikemen Sengoku that would give me cross game storage. Don't judge me.

The Story: MC gets flung back in time (this is also a trend, it seems) to the 1800's, a few weeks before the Ikedaya incident will make the Shinsen-gumi a historic Legend. She meets, and chrams, a whole bunch of historical figures. Protagonist’s spine: Cured leather. As a modern woman sent back in time, MC is probably fairly sassy by the standards of the time, but she remains mostly polite. She's tough, considering the circumstances, but quite pliable in that 'we'll see where this goes and make the best of it' way. Squick factor: Low. There's one character that just screams 'red flag' but I have yet to try his route. Since this is a Cybird game, most of the guys are pretty respectful.

The Good: I really like the premise? As the title suggests, MC's love is part of a higher destiny, one that transcends time, and it's one of the reasons she has to go to friggin 1800's Japan. She has a hand in making history. This amuses me. Also, the guys are pretty good looking. The Bad: This is a fairly old mobile game and you can kinda tell. On a technical level it's not as bad as Midnight Cinderella, but again the touch buttons aren't always responsive. Besides that, some of the writing is rather clunkily translated and a bunch of the art is low res. Best Boy: I haven't played all the routes here, but Katsura is a god damn sweetheart, and Kyo and Yamazaki seem adorable AF.

 The weird: the special ones

Hatoful Boyfriend

The reason I know otome's exist. This one shot to meme status a few years back.

Platform: PC (it's on Steam) Story: MC is one of the last remaining humans after sentient birds took over the world. She gets enrolled into an elite school for pigeons. Squick factor: Medium to high. The major thing to understand about Hatoful is that on the surface it looks like a particularly silly dating sim with pigeons, but dig deeper and it is Also a full blown apocalyptic horror story. And it follows the genre where a wrong move gets MC horrifically killed. Having said that, several of the routes, including the god damn serial killer one, didn't bother me as much as something like Amnesia, because they were not sold as romantic. Maybe it's the whole pigeon thing, maybe it's the general weirdness of the plot, or maybe it is because said serial killer actually goes 'Surely you knew this would happen', before he guts you. Protagonist’s spine: Gummy bear. MC is highly forgettable, but therefore also like… not annoying. The main focus here is on uncovering the many layered plot and the player character doesn't really have a scripted personality, she just embodies the player's actions.

The Good: This whole game is so out there. There's a reason it became so popular. It's an Experience. The plot is over the top and intricate and Weird, and that makes it intriguing. There's a ton of routes and endings, some more secret than others. The 'human' version of some of these birds is kinda hot (sadly that includes the serial killer). The Bad: the plot is so weird and meandering that it's kinda hard to follow at times. I'm fairly certain it takes several guides to unlock all the endings. Best Birb: It's been a while, but I remember liking Yuuya's route quite a lot.

 Monster Prom

The new hype.

Platform: PC (Steam!) Story: MC is a student at Monster High, and is trying to get a date for Monster Prom with one of the hot people. Squick factor: None. I mean, nothing that happens here is in accordance to health and safety norms, but that's kinda the point. It's a parody game, making fun of all the hoops teenagers are willing to jump through to become popular. Protagonist's spine: Coagulated blood. MC is willing to make deals with demons, wear corpses as a hat, anything really. The question is very openly: what could I do to make them like me.

The Good: It's a funny game. I like the characters, who embody everything from the Mean Girl to the Hipster Nerd and the Needlessly Aggressive Jock. The art is simple, cartoon style, but pretty neat. The Bad: Everything is very tongue in cheek, which leaves it a little… light for my tastes. I don't feel like any of the routes matter in the grand scheme of things, MC hasn't truly touched anyone's heart. The whole thing is a joke game, so it's funny, but a bit shallow. Best monster: Polly, the permanently stoned party girl.

 Cute Demon Crashers

Technically a sex game? But a really very special one.

Platform: PC (free! Here!) Story: A portal opens in MC's house and four Incubi/Succubi drop through. To apologize for the inconvenience, while they wait for a portal back, they offer to teach MC about sex. Squick factor: I've written about this game before and the best thing, the very best thing about it is how incredibly consent-minded it is. Like, even if you're already in bed, getting it on, there's always an option to turn back and leave it at that. The demons are really just there to help MC find out what gives her pleasure. Protagonist’s spine: Rock. Obviously, MC is mildly upset about four random demons showing up. As mentioned before, what happens next is mostly up to the player.

The Good: It's free and the art is pretty and I love the premise. The Bad: Kinda short, but again: free. Cutest Demon Crasher: *cough* Orias *cough*

[legrandepapillon]

The Not-So-Secret-Santa (pegtha)

Summary: When one has the trademark loudmouths, Thomas Jefferson, Hercules Mulligan, and Alexander Hamilton, in on a game that requires secretiveness… let’s just say, things don’t go as planned. Prompt: Secret Santa Beginning Notes: more christmas gays!

When Angelica Schuyler walked into the coffee shop her group of friends─and little sisters─frequented, she commanded attention. Especially judging from the way a scowl painted her gorgeous features, and her eyes seemed narrowed into thin, angry slits. Now, it may just be James Madison’s imagination playing tricks on him, but the young man is almost a thousand percent sure that the entire─extremely busy, what with it being colder than a well digger’s ass outside─coffee shop goes silent when she enters.

“Angelica!” Eliza says, looking up from where she’d been texting Alexander─who, out of their merry band of friends, was the only one not in attendance─and waving her sister over. “Over here!”

Angelica maneuvers her way through the crowd of people─but not before stopping briefly at the cash register to order a coffee─and joins the group sitting in the back. They’ve somehow managed to crowd themselves into the only booth big enough to fit all twelve of them─and even so, several people have pulled chairs up to the table in order to fit comfortably. Angelica takes a chair from Lafayette─who goes to drape themselves over the laps of Hercules and George─and slams her coffee cup down onto the table.

“Where the hell is Alexander? And Samuel, King and Charles?” she asks with an edge to her voice, noticing the absence of bickering that usually went on between her brother-in-law and his frenemies. None of them were anywhere in sight. “I thought I told you that I need all of you here.”

“Alex got caught up at the station,” Eliza says, pausing to take a sip of coffee. “And those three had to go and meet Charles’ parents for lunch. Sammy just told me to text him whatever you needed to tell us and he’d relay it to the group.”

Sighing at her friends total inability to follow simple instructions, Angelica looks around at the people that were there. Thomas, James and Aaron had all managed to show up─which was a feat in and of itself. For a polyamorous couple, it seemed very rare that anyone managed to catch more than two of them together at a time. There was always one out of the three missing─at work, running errands, out of town.

George was there, as well, which was pretty shocking. He was so busy with being a congressman most of the time that he was hardly ever around─so much so that for the first year of his relationship with Hercules and Lafayette, Angelica had thought it was just those two. She hadn’t even known that George was a part of their romance until she attended a housewarming party for Peggy and accidentally walked in on three of them getting hot and heavy in a closet.

And Peggy. Peggy always seemed to be working at her actual job─she worked at the very cafe that Angelica told them to meet in─or on her youth programs. She─along with John Laurens, who seemed very zoned out on whatever he was doodling on the cafe napkins─was an activist that ran several non-profit charities for youth. Big Brother, Big Sister mentoring guides for LGBTQ+ kids, scholarship programs for inner-city kids and all-girls empowerment summer camp for preteen and teenage girls. The poor woman was so busy with all of these endeavors that it was rare that Angelica and Eliza were able to get together with her, which is why Angelica chose her lunch break during work to meetup with the gang.

“What’s up, Angie? Why’d you need us all here?” Thomas asks, snapping the woman from her reverie. Angelica exhales, looks around at the group one last time before making sure to turn her attention to her sisters.

“Mom and Dad called me last night. They said we won’t be having our annual family Christmas like usual,” she pauses here to gauge her sisters reactions, and is surprised to not find the level of distress that she thought she would. Both girls seem pretty bummed, but not as devastated as she’d expected. “So, I was wondering if the rest of you were busy this Christmas, and if not, if we could plan something for us here. Like a family.”

“Well, my Dad doesn’t want me bringing these two back if I go down to Virginia for Christmas, so I’m pretty freed up,” George says, adding a packet of artificial sweetner to his coffee in an attempt to look bored─though everyone sitting at the booth can tell just how hurt he is at this. “Hercules just has James here and Marie said she can’t go back to France.”

“My grandmother… when I told her I was trans, she uh… she told me that she never wanted to see my face again. However, Adrienne is coming into town. If I celebrate with you all, can she come as well?” Marie asks, leaning her head on the heel of her hand. Angelica waves her hand in dismissal, though she can tell by the way Marie’s eyes light up that she’s made her friend extremely happy.

“That’s absolutely fine, hon. What about you guys?” Angelica nods towards the end of the booth, where Thomas, Aaron and James were chatting quietly amongst themselves. They all look up in confusion─making it obvious to the woman that they hadn’t been paying attention. “Doing anything for Christmas?”

“Well,” Aaron begins. “I usually spend my Christmas’ watching Lifetime movies and eating takeout, so… no. I’m free.”

“Ever since Herc and I’s parents passed, I just spend it doing whatever Hercules does. Why?”

“I’m not going back to Virginia this year, my mother has a new boyfriend and I don’t really feel like being around all that mess.”

“Good. You’re spending the holidays with us. Alright, I’ve got Marie, Thomas, Adrienne, James, Hercules, George, and myself. Eliza, Peggy?” Angelica begins scribbling the names down on a notepad from her purse, formulating a guest list so that she’d know how much cooking she’d need to do for the holiday at hand.

“I’m down, but can I bring Martha? She’s like the Scrooge of Christmas─hates the holidays. I wanna show her true Christmas joy, y’know. It’ll be romantic. Might even get laid.” John audibly groans at how cliche Peggy sounds, before reminding her that she’s talking about his stepsister─so show a little decorum. The woman sticks her tongue out at him, and Angelica laughs at the two before agreeing.

“Well, since Martha is going… John you might as well go,” Eliza says, looking to her boyfriend─who wrinkles his nose. “C’mon. Alex and I are definitely going, and you know you don’t want to go back to South Carolina for Christmas. It’ll be fun! We can do Secret Santa!”

“Ooh, yes!” Marie exclaims, removing her sketchpad from her satchel. She flips to an empty page and begins scribbling everyone’s names down. “Okay… Angelica, let me see your beanie.”

Angelica hands over the hat, eyebrow raised. With careful and precise fingers, Marie rips the paper with the names into small little shreds─each shred of paper holding someone’s name. She folds them in half before dumping them all into the beanie.

“I’m adding Charles, King and Sammy in here… Eliza, you can pick for the three of them and text them who they got,” Marie says, dumping the shreds of paper into the hat and mixing them around. “John, you pick for Alex but don’t look at who he got, alright? Just give him the paper when you see him. Rules for the Secret Santa? You obviously can’t tell the person you’re buying for that it’s you, no going over thirty dollars for materials, no buying gift cards, and you have to make it.”

There’s voices of protest at the last rule, but the look Marie sends the group could rival Angelica’s. It doesn’t, of course, because Angelica is the queen of glaring─but it could.

Marie takes a slip of paper from the hat before passing it to Hercules, who repeats the motion. The beanie goes around the table until it ends with George removing the last piece of paper.

Angelica grins at the name on her piece of paper.  Eliza and Thomas both groan─probably because the people they chose are difficult to shop for. Peggy does a fist pump, John smiles wistfully, James, George and Aaron seem to be indifferent either way, and Hercules gives a smile that says ‘oh, this will be very fun’.

“Who did you get?” John asks his girlfriend, as he, Eliza and Alex push their cart around the crafts shop. They’d all agreed to go shopping for their materials at the same time, in the same place─to save money, and gas. However, the young brunette sitting in the cart is quickly becoming to regret agreeing upon that─seeing as this is the sixth time John has asked her this question, and Alexander had asked twelve times before. Eliza looks up at him with an expression that can only be described as a mixture between ‘offense’ and ‘exhaustion’. “What? I’m just curious!”

“Yeah, and curiosity killed the cat,” she teases, before directing him to turn down the aisle that has yarn. “I’ve already said this, John! I can’t tell you! It’s called a Secret Santa! What if you tell them that I’m the one making their present? Geez, I know you’re a rebel, but it can’t be this hard for you to follow the rules.”

“Wow. You’re really passionate about the do’s and don’ts of Secret Santa, aren’t you?” he asks, as she directs him to put some navy blue yarn in the cart. She nods her head just as Alexander comes bolting towards them with arms full of markers, crayons, colored pencils and pens.

“Alex! You’re supposed to be shopping for materials for your Secret Santa, not thing you like,” Eliza chastises playfully, before squeaking in indignance when he dumps all the materials on her.

“Shut up. I’m making John a poster,” he says.

“Alex!” Eliza whines, and John laughs loudly. Well, at least he could trust that his gift would be made with love.

Lafayette sits cross-legged in the middle of their living room, hands gently maneuvering the clay on the pottery wheel. Their eyes are concentrated on the machine, all of their attention focused on the design of the clay to make the shape they want.

“Laffy, I’m sorry darlin’, but I’m curious. Who in the hell would want a homemade clay pot?” George asks, looking down at them from his spot on the couch. He’d been focused on CNN news, but the gentle whirring of the machine had drawn his attention several minutes ago and the curiosity had been eating at him. Lafayette doesn’t offer a response, simply shrugs their shoulders and continues to gently knead the clay on the wheel. “I can’t think of anyone in our group that would find use for that.”

“Then you’re not thinking hard enough,” they respond calmly, reaching their hand into the opening in order to manipulate the shape even further. George opens his mouth to retort something equally as sassy, but Hercules enters their apartment at that very moment─arms filled to the brim with varying colors of yarn─soft pinks and blues, bright neon greens and yellows… and just as George is confused as to who in their circle of friends would want a flower pot, he is confused as to who would want all those colors clashing together.

“Y’know, mo chroí, you’re an awfully hard person to drum up ideas for,” Hercules says, dumping the materials beside George on the couch to press a kiss to their forehead. Lafayette gives a squeal of annoyance at Hercules having revealed who he was Secret Santa-ing to; and by relation having revealed who Lafayette’s Secret Santa is.

“Herc, mon coeur! It was supposed to be a surprise, non?” they exclaim, finally tearing their eyes away from their pottery. “You’ve ruined it for me!”

“Aw man, I’m sorry, Laf!” Hercules responds, plopping down beside them on the floor. At first George believes he’s being sarcastic, but when his eyes land on his boyfriend’s face, he can tell that he’s genuinely apologetic. It’s cute, how he recognizes the importance of this to Lafayette and respects that. “This Secret Santa thing slipped my mind.”

“Hey, darlin’, the surprise isn’t entirely ruined,” George pipes up, easing down onto the floor with the other to. “You don’t know what he’s going to make. I promise, I’ll help Herc hide whatever he’s making for you, so that you can be surprised on Christmas. Sound good?”

And though Lafayette is still pouting, both men can tell that this considerably makes it better.

“I don’t even know Maria that well!” Thomas exclaims for what seems to be the billionth time since they got who they’d be making presents for, as he scrolls through ideas for gifts on Pinterest. “Why can’t I just buy her something? It’d be so much easier!”

“Firstly, Thomas, the whole point of Secret Santa was for us not to know who you’d be making a present for,” Aaron reprimands, for what seems to be the billionth time in response to Thomas’ complaining. He’s making what seems to be personally designed coffee mugs─using blank templates and markers designed for ceramic art to design them. He’d been pretty good at hiding who his present was for, though Thomas can just barely make out a ‘G’ on one of the mugs. “Secondly, you’re supposed to make it because it’s supposed to come from the heart. These aren’t just our friends, they’re our family, too.”

“That’s lame,” the Virginian huffs, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. He dramatically drapes himself over the armrest of their couch, tossing his arm over his eyes like the drama queen he is. “Why can’t I just pay someone to make something for me?”

“Can I pay someone to kick your ass? Maybe then you’d stop complaining,” Aaron murmurs under his breath, picking up another marker to doodle something on the coffee mug. Surprisingly, he’s met with silence─until his phone chimes with a notification. Curiously, Aaron picks up his phone to read it─finding that it’s from Facebook.

Thomas Jefferson ─ with Maria Reynolds, Angelica Schuyler and 15 others.

Need help coming up with ideas for Maria’s Secret Santa present… anyone care to help out?

“Goddamnit, Thomas, it’s supposed to be a Secret!” James yells from the other room─obviously having got the notification as well. Thomas gives a groan of annoyance at this, probably remembering that tagging the person you’re going to be Secret Santa-ing for is not the smartest idea.

“But keeping it secret is hard!”

“Looks like I won’t have to pay anyone to kick your ass,” Aaron chuckles, setting his phone down and glancing towards his boyfriend. Both Thomas and Aaron’s phones are blowing up with notifications─though neither of them need to check them to see it’s probably their group of friends reprimanding him on sharing who he was supposed to be the Secret Santa for. Thomas quirks an eyebrow, and his lover finishes with, “Angelica is probably going to do it for me.”

By the time Christmas Day rolls around, most of the people in the group participating know who their Secret Santa is─and those that don’t know for sure at least have some sort of inkling. What with loudmouths Alexander Hamilton, Hercules Mulligan and Thomas Jefferson letting everyone know not only who their gifts were for, but who their spouses gifts were for and gossips Peggy and Maria spreading around rumors as to who made presents for who… yeah, the whole idea of the Secret Santa actually being a secret was moot.

And Angelica was quick to let the perpetrators know just how disappointed she was in them for not being able to hold water.

“Well,” she says, after they’ve all retired to her living room following a pretty amazing Christmas dinner. Her eyes travel over their faces─and at least most of the culprits have the decency to look ashamed. “This was supposed to be a Secret Santa, but thanks to a select few that can’t seem to let anyone enjoy anything… you might as well tell you who brought your gift for that it was you. I’ll start.”

Crossing over to the Christmas tree, Angelica removes a small wrapped box and hands it to Peggy’s girlfriend, Martha. “I looked up how to transfer photographs onto wood, and then I got this picture from Peggy. It didn’t come out as good as I thought it would, but I figured you would like it.”

It’s a professionally taken photo─probably taken by Charles who was a photographer. The two women were on the beach, and Martha had her arms draped over Peggy’s shoulders. Peggy’s hand came up in the photo to hold Martha’s, and her head was turned just slightly to the side to press a kiss against her cheek. Martha had that picture posted across all of her social media accounts─it was her profile picture for Instagram, Facebook, Twitter… she’d told Peggy countless times that it was her favorite photograph.

“Aw, Angie, I love it!” Martha exclaims, taking the block of wood from her adopted sister. “Thank you, so much! I’m going to put it up in my office.”

After hugging Angelica in thanks, Martha goes over to the tree to get the present that she made for Peggy. Except, she didn’t make it. It’s a small box, wrapped in gold wrapping paper, and when she presents it to Peggy she drops onto one knee.

Everyone in the room either gasps or goes deathly silent.

“I admit, I cheated,” Martha chuckles, looking up at her girlfriend as she removes the wrapping paper and flips open the lid on the box. The ring inside is gorgeous─and it has two birthstones on it, with a small engraving that no one can really read. “I didn’t make this. I bought it, from George. I um… I’ve been dating you, Peggy, for about two years. When I first met you at John’s birthday party, something told me that I’d need to do anything to keep you in my life forever. From your big heart to your sweet soul… I knew you were the one for me. And day in, day out you prove that to me. So I’ve decided that I need to do something to prove it to you. And this is it. Will you… will you marry me?”

Peggy is speechless. She opens and closes her mouth several times, eyes watering with tears, before finally she throws her arms around her girlfriend─fiancee now─and simply nods her head.

Well, at least some secret presents could be kept.

Translations

mo chroí ─ my heart (Irish)

mon coeur ─ my heart (French)

[charliemcevoy-blog]

Have you seen ELLIOT FLETCHER around campus? No that’s just SEVENTEEN year old, CHARLIE MCEVOY! He is a JUNIOR here at Silver Creek! He’s known to be CHARMING and GUARDED. I’ve heard that he’s here because HE TRIED TO KILL HIMSELF, when in reality it’s probably a rumor.

cw: suicide attempts, suicide ideation, inpatient treatment, sibling death

charlie mcevoy is a charming, gentle young man with clinical depression and a tendency to think the worst of himself, charlie has also attempted suicide twice.

charlie hasn’t always been charlie, when he was born, he was assigned female at birth, and that wasn’t right

not that it was a major problem for him as a young child, it felt like something was off but he never really knew how to put his finger on it

his youth was normal, loving parents, wonderful older sister that cared about him deeply, and when he came out as trans, he was accepted by his family

social transition was a bit more difficult, charlie faced bullying and hate from his peers due to the “big” life change he was making

instead of trying to force acceptance on his peers though, charlie’s family decided it was best to move somewhere else that wouldn’t hurt him for who he was

they moved and things were better for him, the new school was accepting and had a zero-tolerance policy on bullying, an actually enforced zero tolerance policy

that being said, charlie still kept the fact that he was trans a secret out of fear of people hating him and bullying him for it again

he went to extreme lengths to make sure no one found out ever, to the point where friends wouldn’t even come over for school projects on the off chance there was something in his home that hinted he wasn’t a guy

he would also frequently think about how and what would make him eventually kill himself if anyone did find out the truth

to be clear: charlie is NOT (fully) ashamed of himself, he’s just terrified of abandonment and rejection

eventually, charlie did warm up to everyone though and he a small group of friends that could mostly distract him from his fear of being hated and abandoned by those he cared about

charlie’s first attempt was triggered by an unfortunate series of events

he was never explicit about his sexuality, but it was a given that he wasn’t straight, he just never let anyone know anything about himself

there was a boy from his film class though, kyle, that he had grown close too over the course of his 9th grade year, who charlie had developed feelings for

eventually he and kyle started to date, charlie started to fall in love

one day, kyle wanted to go all the way with charlie, and charlie had to “confess” finally that he was trans

to which kyle was fine with it, the boys had sex, and the next day all over school there were pictures and posts on social media about how gross and weird charlie was and how he was a liar 

although he was met with more compassion than hatred, charlie still had a panic attack and made a beeline for the bathroom, where he had his first attempt

he was found by one of his friends, brought to the hospital, and put in inpatient treatment over the summer, 

after that, they moved again

the second time, charlie’s sister had passed in a car accident and he couldn’t imagine life without her

each time while in the initial inpatient and therapy sessions to follow his attempts, charlie said wholeheartedly that he would do it again, which kept him in inpatient longer

he was in inpatient for the second time during the middle of his 10th grade year, making it hard for him to finish up the school year but he was determined to keep up with his schoolwork

it was a distraction at least

instead of moving him back home though, they moved charlie to silver creek, deciding that if he were at a school with mental health professionals that could help whenever it would be best for him

he’s been at silver creek for a few months now and he’s not super fond of it, but he plays the part enough for everyone 

he runs a support group for the other mentally ill kids called “spoonie kids” but it’s mostly just a “let’s bitch about group therapy and watch movies” group

he’s more open about who he is and his traumas, but he refuses to let anyone close and tries to put on a brave face for literally anyone he talks too

[theclaravoyant]

Hey Clara, I really miss your Trans!Fitz stories, and I just wanted to know: is there any on the making? If not, could we got one with Fitzskimmons? Thank you so much!

AN ~ Thank you so much! I’m really glad you like them :D and this prompt gave me an excuse to write something that’s been floating around in my head for quite some time now… it’s easily able to be interpreted as romantic or platonic due to being set during S1, hope you don’t mind. If you have any other and/or more specific ideas, let me know - in the meantime, enjoy!

Read on AO3 (~1900wd). Rated T. Bus Kids or FitzSkimmons. trans!Fitz.

After the Fall, Fitz comes out to Skye - partly for security reasons and partly because he’s wanted to tell her for a while now and never quite did.

also known as

Jemma rapped her nails on the teacup, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. The tears had stopped, for now at least; her grief momentarily suspended in the wake of the increasingly wide-reaching ramifications that seemed to be coming from this. Communications were down. Someone, somewhere was storming the Academy. Their friends and classmates were Hydra, on the run, or dead. It was enough to turn the stomach – only, she hadn’t eaten anything in over a day.

Fitz, lying on his bunk nearby, turned his Rubik’s cube over and over in his hands. His chest felt tight, his thoughts scattered. He stared blankly. Lost.

“D’you think Brian…” he wondered, trailing off before he could form the words. Voice straining, he recalled: “He was stationed at the Hub.”

The Hub. The Triskellion, as it was officially known. One of the first places to fall – and in a big way, too. Which meant there was almost no way Brian’s story ended well. He probably wasn’t Hydra, Fitz thought – and hoped: they’d been fast friends back in the day. But even if he were loyal, Fitz couldn’t help but recall his own experience in the field, barely scraping out alive from his first firefight after almost having his throat slashed and almost blowing up a plane. The plane he’d been on. He’d been a bumbling giraffe of an agent and last time he’d checked, Brian wasn’t much better, physicality-wise. Being surrounded by enemies, and secret ones at that, he wouldn’t last long.

And to think, earlier this morning, Fitz had teared up over wiping the personal data from everyone’s phones.

Fortunately a knock on the door interrupted him before the tears could well again. Unfortunately though, it was Skye, with a tablet in her hands and a solemn, almost timid expression on her face.

“Hey,” she greeted, similar discomfort mixed with sympathy in her tone. “How’re you guys holding up?”

“Great,” Fitz responded, needling and sarcastic. “Nothing like watching everything you’ve ever achieved in your life get taken away. Fictional people taking all the credit – or worse, our names getting wiped while that lot gets to keep the glory. ‘n glory’s not even the worst of it.”

“Fitz.” With as much strength as she could muster, Simmons scolded him. “Don’t take it out on Skye, this isn’t her fault.”

“Take it out?” Fitz retorted. “I’m not taking anything out. This is calm. I’m… zen.”

He clenched his jaw, and pressed the heels of his hands against the cube as hard as he could. The spiked shell of fury that had materialised to shield his grief and panic from prying eyes quickly crumbled and he sighed. Sitting up, he wiped a hand over his face to clear the clutter and haze.

“Sorry,” he whispered earnestly. “This is just… a lot.”

“I understand.” Skye nodded, then shrugged, and then realised that a shrug was probably not appropriate. In truth, while she saw their pain it was difficult to connect. She didn’t have a history of marked achievement that anyone could take away though, she supposed. Nor did she have the kind of network of acquaintances, colleagues and friends that they did. 99% of all the people in the world who cared whether she lived or died were in this building, going through this same pain, this same fear, as Fitz and Simmons were. As guilty as the thought made her feel, she hadn’t felt so grateful to be alone in a long time.

“We’re the lucky ones, though,” Jemma pointed out. Her tea was going cold. “Our loss is just paper, really, just scraps of code. Accolades. Plenty of people save the world and never get half as much.”

“True,” Fitz acknowledged, though it didn’t make him feel any better.

“I’m – sorry to do this,” Skye pressed, “but I’m actually here on business. I need to know, is there anything else you can think of where your personal details might be found. Old social media profiles, comments on New Yorker articles, a digitized catalogue of your baby photos…”

Jemma shook her head, but Fitz hummed in consternation. Skye raised an eyebrow and he let out a second sigh.

“Actually,” he said, “there is.”

Jemma glanced at him like she knew what he was talking about. Fitz glanced back at her, as if he had been expecting the look.

“It’s okay, Jemma. I was going to tell her sooner or later.”

“Tell me what?” Skye frowned, watching as Jemma brought Fitz what appeared to be an old shoebox, from his shelf. Fitz waved Skye over as he dug through it.

“I want to show you something,” he said. She sat on the bed beside him and took the photograph he held out. On a field of thick, patchy grass – somebody’s yard, most likely – stood a young child, probably around eight years old. A little girl, sandy blonde hair, her fists clenched in the skirt of her dress, which was somewhere between white and yellow – the photo was a little discoloured with age, so it was hard to tell. The girl scowled at the camera, and her eyes were on somebody standing next to the photographer, out of frame.

“School picture day?” Skye quipped, looking back at Fitz.

“It was, actually,” Fitz recalled, with a grimace. “But that’s not why I’m showing you.

Skye scanned the picture again. Not much more came to mind by way of observation, except that the girl looked like Fitz – which was unsurprising, since he had her photograph in his box of momentos from home.

“Who is she?” Skye speculated. “Your sister? D’you have a sister?”

“No.” Fitz took a deep breath. Time to move this along. “That’s me.”

“Really?” Skye frowned down at the picture again, and bit her lip. Part of her wondered if this was not another one of their pranks, though to what end she wasn’t sure, and the timing seemed extremely insensitive, even for Jemma’s usual tactlessless. Plus, as best Skye could tell, the photo was genuine and there was no other reason she could think of for Fitz to expose this kind of secret only to lie about it. Surely it would be easier to fake having a sister. And even if Fitz could pull it off, Jemma wasn’t sitting beside him, holding his hand, with an eerily May-like expression of neutrality for nothing.

“Okay,” Skye said. “I believe you.”

Fitz frowned a little, surprised at the anti-climactic response. “Do you have questions?”

“What kind of security threat do you think this poses?”

“What?”

“That’s why you showed me, right?”

“Right. Yeah.” He blinked, pulling himself together. “I’m not sure. There’s probably not even that much of her online, but you said everything, so, um…”

Feeling his hands begin to fret again, Jemma passed a pillow over. Fitz hugged it close to his chest. Skye was busy scanning the picture into her device and adding it to the search parameters, so Fitz had time to check his voice before he spoke.

“Her – My, uh, name was Bridget. If that means anything.”

“Sure, I’ll add it,” Skye murmured, typing into the search field. She paused, finger hovering above the screen. Fitz seemed hurt, and though her job was important – possibly moreso than anything she’d done with Shield so far – she was finding it hard to ignore the shimmering vulnerability that seemed to emanate off him. Maybe she didn’t understand the depth of what they, as Shield veterans, were going through right now, but Fitz clearly put a lot of weight on coming out to her and she was rejecting him. She knew that feeling far too well.

Taking a deep breath, Skye set the tablet aside.

“Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t trying to be an ass, I just didn’t want to pry, which is ironic, since I’ve been sifting through everyone’s dirty laundry the last few days…”

“S’okay,” Fitz replied. “Kinda surprised you didn’t know already, actually. Everyone else does.”

“Everyone?” Skye raised an eyebrow.

“It’s in my file, so May and Coulson definitely know, and I told Jemma already. Ward, I’m not sure. Sometimes he says things… but maybe he’s just teasing me, or I’m reading too much in. He does have higher clearance though so who knows.” Fitz shook his head. “That’s not the point. The point is, I didn’t really tell you because of security. I mean, that helped, but either way it just didn’t seem right that everyone else got to know and you didn’t.”

“Then, thank you,” Skye said. “I wish it could have been a less morbid occasion but here we are. Can I sit?”

Fitz and Simmons scooched along the bed to give Skye some space. Then all three of them leant backward, and huffed out a breath of air as they took sanctuary lying under the roof of Fitz’s bunk.

“Can I ask, Skye,” Jemma wondered, “you didn’t seem that surprised, or confused. Have you encountered this sort of thing much before?”

“I mean, yeah.” Skye shrugged. “I was an underground anarchist hacktivist. You meet all sorts of people in that world, plenty of trans people. Might be a bit out of date but for the most part it’s… pretty normal to me, if that makes sense.”

“Sure you don’t have any questions?” Fitz asked. Skye took a moment to consider, and then ventured forward.

“Okay, I’ve gotta ask. Leopold?”

“I know,” Fitz groaned. “My mum thought of it. Thought it sounded brave and strong. ‘Lion-heart’. You know.” He snorted, and gestured down the length of his body with distaste. “Then she got this string bean.”

Jemma batted at him. “Shush, you. I think you’re very brave. You can’t be brave without being scared first.”

“Yeah… that’s not better.”

Fitz screwed up his nose and Jemma laughed. Skye laughed with her, and her hands joined the tangle of Fitz’s and Simmons’ in the middle of them all. As the humour of the moment fizzled - the weight of the day’s more sobering revelations making itself felt once more - she gave a squeeze.

“Thank you for trusting me,” she said. “I promise I won’t tell anyone. And for the record, I think you’re plenty brave. Not just for this, I mean - I knew you for like, one day, and you’d already been shot at, held at gunpoint, and nearly blown up twice and you still didn’t tell Shield to shove it, so don’t underestimate yourself. But also… there is something to this. Knowing who you are. To be honest, I’m kinda jealous, actually.”

A heavy moment passed between the three of them as they reflected further back than the fall of Shield. It was not only Fitz and Simmons who’d had their worlds shaken lately: Skye’s search for her mother had come to the most heartbreaking dead-end possible, and despite all her hopes, she was an orphan after all.

But after that moment, Fitz squeezed her hand.

“Hey,” he quipped. “Who says I know who I am? I have an existential crisis every other day. Got one scheduled for tomorrow at 10 if you want to join.”

“Sounds good,” Skye said. “I’m in.”

[somuchbetterthanthat]

What do you think the barricade boys would be like today. Like with everything going on.

I was thinking about this, and I thought “oh my god, I have zero idea, that’s why it’s so hard to really write les amis in modern AU” but, I can try to actually give the beginning of an answer (and I’m ready to hear everybody’s opinions on this, really, because I think, depending our own situations, we’re gonna imagine something different for all of them.). This turned extremely long.. sorry.

I think the easiest to pin down are Feuilly and Grantaire, to be honest. 

Grantaire, would be That Guy who never went to vote to an election because “what’s the point? They’re all the same.” Or maybe, the first time he was able to vote was for a presidential, he voted someone, they didn’t pass (or they did and disappointed him) and he was disappointed and he went “whatever, voting is not as cool as I was told it would”. Grantaire won’t say he avoids the news because the bullshit around him actually affects him, and he totally won’t ever admit how much he loves being friends with people who ARE optimist and who sees humanity’s beauty and want to make things better. Grantaire is also the guy who is Totally in Favour of Women’s Rights, Especially the Sexual Liberation Part of It *wink wink*. He… probably had unfortunate sentences like “girls don’t like the nice guys, they just want assholes” (i mean he basically already say unfortunate things like that in canon). Irma probably said once to him “Dude, you are an asshole, and I don’t see women running to your feet, so shut the hell up.” In my opinion, he’s also a white man in his twenties, with all the blind prejudice it can bring. He’s bi, but not that comfortable with it. 

Feuilly, and dear god will I fight anybody on this if I must, is a STUDENT. (Or was a student, depending on which age you give them). Feuilly still struggles with money, because he’d live in fucking Paris, but Feuilly would NOT struggle to study, because FRANCE’S UNIVERSITIES ARE CHEAP (in comparison to some other countries, I mean), and also there are different financial help for people like Feuilly who don’t have the financial means to pay everything from their pockets. It’s still highly probable Feuilly would work anyway, probably in retail or tutoring!, though. Feuilly would spend his time reading and Getting Angry or Passionate about everything that’s going on in the world, that won’t change in our modern world. It’s not about Poland anymore, but oh man Feuilly would rant hours on the situation of Syrians refugees. He probably sat in baffled, horrified silence after Trump’s election. He makes sure people know about what happens in countries the media aren’t interested in. In fact, I could see him write long articles on international problems. 

To be honest, I really don’t know If I can do this for all of les amis (perhaps not as detailed). A lot of this is only my personal opinions on how they might be in modern France. 

In a world where Law school isn’t the only available school for people who don’t want to graduate for School, what do Bossuet and Bahorel do? I can see them, of course, going to university, again and again, but? Would they really not get a diploma…? I mean, okay, poor Bossuet probably doesn’t because of Circumstances, but for Bahorel, I don’t know - he can still have gone to study Law in the first place, find it filled with Terrible Arrogant Competitive People, went “nope” and just. Tried a lot of other things, accidentally majored and got a diploma in at least two of them, and somehow ends up with the most diploma in the group???? Which is baffling because Bahorel would also clearly be a Stylist. He has a page and everything. People don’t get it. I dunno. 

Concerning politics activity, Bahorel would still be the person who Knows Everybody In Paris, which means he goes from group to group - Bahorel probably knows the most radical leftist you can find in Paris, and he has tried to infiltrate an extreme-right meeting once or twice (but that ended up badly). Bahorel probably is the Main Messenger of l’ABC. He’s also probably very good at corrupting students and making them think “maybe being Far Left is actually quite cool”

Jehan probably is vegan? I have no idea what radical art movement is actually scandalizing the Good Society, but he’s probably part of that in some way (with Bahorel). Street art..? I truly have no idea here, so I won’t embarrass myself trying to say something. He still writes a lot of poems, he’s still very erudite, and he’s probably still very rich. He probably gives a lot of money to charity - for women, children, and animals, and he’s an active participant in at least one of them. He’s very big on the “nature doesn’t belong to human and we should be respectful of it” sustainable development movements. 

… Of course les amis would probably all be for sustainable development cause they’re not idiots but. you know.

I can’t see Joly as anything else than a doctor, and I tend to think he’d go for caring for kids in particular. He’s good with them. To be honest, when it comes to politics, Joly and Bossuet are the hardest for me to pin down - I have zero doubt they’re as invested as the others, but I don’t think they’d have as much “clear” role if you know what I mean? Joly probably organizes things for the children at hospital, like having people come here to visit them and make them laugh (Bossuet would probably help with that, and, in fact, probably so would Grantaire), or making sure they can see That Movie that just got out, etc. Joly would also be highly invested in the cause of nurses, which are having a hard time in France right now. Bossuet, drawing from his own experiences, would probably help people in situation of poverty - homeless people, etc. Perhaps he’d help in Le Refuge, which is an association that helps lgbt kids in France who are homeless. 

As for Joly, I can’t see Combeferre as anything else than a doctor, apart if he’s a teacher. Combeferre could totally be a teacher. however, Combeferre would probably be a family doctor, after trying a lot of different specialization. In fact, Combeferre probably went for medicine after trying a bunch of other things, and probably did at least two years of “prépa” (I have zero idea how to explain what it is. Two years of school that prepares you to a test that will allow you to enter prestigious schools all over france?) in like, physics or something because he used to plan to become a scientist. Combeferre is fascinated by technology and how it can help; probably works on making teleportation a thing during lost hours; has contacts all over the scientist words, and spends a lot of time with Jehan speaking about how we could actually already put into place green energy all over the world. Combeferre also tutors kids, he’s involved in feminist groups, and of all his friends, he is the most socialist while everybody else is pretty far into radical left.

Would Courfeyrac be a lawyer? Honestly, I could see it! There is something about Courfeyrac that feels right about this, choosing to defend the innocent and all, he’s a paladin isn’t he - of course he would be a real life lawyer, not a fictional one, and I don’t know exactly which branches of law exists for him in modern-france, but he would be for the one who comes closest to helping either children, group of people being wronged, etc. He probably also gives free lawyer advice for those who don’t even know perhaps they hAVE rights. Courfeyrac would deal with everything social media in the group, and he would still have an uncanny eye to notice people that might fit and belong in their group. He’s charming in a less intense way that Enjolras might be, which makes him an easy “first contact”. 

 As for Enjolras, well, duh, he’d be a printer. He’d be involved in particular with everything that touches the right of workers, what the EU means for France’s companies, and what generally speaking international market do for workers that might not have a chance to fight against the competitive prices of other countries. Chances are, the printshop would also have an editorial branch to it, too. Which brings me to my point-

I think les amis de l’ABC would have a newspaper of sort: they’d started with a blog, and somehow it turned into a very political, humanist newspaper, of which Enjolras would be the principal editor: all of les amis might write articles from times to times - Bahorel, Bossuet, Courfeyrac and Jehan are the one who find other authors to fill in. Grantaire probably writes the horoscope, and it is mocking and still very PoliticalTM, but the tone is humouristic and there are a lot of puns and les amis are much too weak for puns.  

They would also have a branch dedicated to tutoring students of all ages, particularly in “difficult neighborhoods” (which would go hand in hand with Valjean’s center, which is a vague idea of mine that i like). That’s Combeferre and Feuilly’s responsibilities, though Joly chimes in when he can, as well as Courfeyrac and Enjolras. 

They would, obviously, protest - that’s a French Given. They would be, as I said, very active on social media (Courfeyrac on youtube, please and thank you, videos of Enjolras speaking, etc.). A lot of their stance might be on visibility and education: which wouldn’t stop them from direct action when it needs to happen. Les amis de l’ABC would very much be far left, though I don’t think they would like the idea of two big parties anymore, because that’s a feeling that every french people feel nowadays, i think, or so it feels anyway. 

And while I said “he” all the while in this post, because I put them all from canon to modern era, obviously not all of them would be “he”. Les amis de l’ABC would be boys, girls, trans, non-binary, they’d be white or black or brown-skinned, atheists, muslims, catholics, jewish people, etc. Les amis de l’ABC would be very diverse. Also, probably bigger than they were in canon-era - apparently there wasn’t that much of them because of political restrictions of the time-period, but nowadays they could be as much as they can freely, so, there’s that.  Of course, that doesn’t change the idea that Enjolras, Courfeyrac, Combeferre, Feuilly, Bahorel, Jehan, Bossuet, Joly and Grantaire might be the “core” of their association/group. 

I don’t… actually know if that answer your question at all? I hope so?  

[ecohli]

I decided to write a letter to my English teachers to thank them for everything they have done for me. They have been a huge part of my coming out and starting my social transition, and have offered me support when I couldn’t find it elsewhere. I wanted to share this letter on here, because I thought that maybe it would help someone realize that they aren’t alone, and that what they are going through is something that happens to more people than you might think.

So here goes it!

***

Growing up, I felt like something was wrong. I felt different, awkward, and like I didn’t belong. I was constantly uncomfortable in my skin, even when I was only 5 or 6 years old. The worst part about it though was that I never had an explanation as to why I was feeling the way I was.

I remember the confusion growing when I was around 10 or 11 years old. My friends were an equal mix of guys and girls, but I always felt more comfortable around the guys. I always really associated myself more with them, dressed fairly “boyish,” preferred my hair short, and didn’t have any feminine mannerisms. I never related with girls, and always felt extremely awkward when put in situations where I had to conform to gender roles.

Fast forward to middle school: I was really starting to discover that something was “wrong” with me, and that I was different from the other girls my age. I thought that maybe it was a body issue, because I was really uncomfortable with how certain aspects of my body looked. I wasn’t a stranger to bullying either; being the quiet kid that had a slight stutter and was really fidgety made me an easy target.

Middle school was also the time when I started having a lot of family problems, and was when I started battling anxiety and depression. I grew apart from my friends, my family, and my passion for music. I was feeling lost and overwhelmed, and I started to spiral out of control. I no longer talked to any of my friends, I quit band, and I started cutting. I was completely lost.

There is one distinct memory from middle school that has stuck with me all of these years, though, and I regard it as what is possibly the most important moment of confusion in my life.

One day in gym class, I smashed my finger into a basketball and was sent to the nurse to get an icepack. I remember asking the nurse for an icepack, and she turned to her assistant and said “hey, can you hand me a bag of ice for him.” It was a weird moment for me. Being called a boy didn’t upset me, and it didn’t make me feel uncomfortable at all, which confused the hell out of me. I spent the next week and half on Google trying to figure out if something was wrong with me for not feeling offended at being called a boy. That’s when I first stumbled across a term that changed my life forever:

Transgender.

Up until the age of 14, I had no clue that being transgender was something that happened. Hell, I didn’t even know that gay people existed until I walked in on my best friend Connor making out with another guy just a couple months prior. I did more research in the coming weeks, and I even sent a few emails back and forth with a trans woman who worked for an LGBTQ organization in New York. I did some self exploration, toyed around with pronouns, and realized that this explained the awkwardness and discomfort I had been feeling for pretty much my entire life.

I didn’t like it at all.

I felt ashamed. I felt as though I was somehow betraying my parents, and that I was disappointing my parents by not being the princess they wanted so dearly. I was so ashamed, in fact, that I refused to believe that being transgender was a possibility and forced myself into the gender role and femininity that society expected of me.

Going into freshman year, I let my hair grow out. I started wearing more sweaters and even bought a dress and boots. The whole role of “assumed female” was really putting my acting skills to the test, but if it meant that I wasn’t some freak and wasn’t disappointing my family then I was willing to do whatever it took.

Freshman year came and went, and things seemed to be going okay. My grades were good, I was enjoying extracurriculars, and friendships were seeming pretty strong. Halfway through the year, though, things started to change. My mom gave birth to my brother, and all the comments made about there finally being a boy in the family were finally catching up to me, and they were bringing lots of upset with them. Keeping up with this feminine facade was becoming hard, and I was beginning to feel the same discomfort that had plagued me when I was younger. The feelings and discomfort continued up through sophomore year, where I found my anxiety and depression creeping back into my life as my struggles got worse. By the start of junior year, I had cut my hair and changed my wardrobe and was doing anything I could to get rid of that toxic feminine image I had masked myself with. Depression started kicking my butt hardcore, and I started cutting again.

Despite the fact that junior year was the year that I had started to spiral out of control once more, it was also the year that I met the most amazing and supportive teacher. She treated me with a level of respect that I had never received before, and took the time to try and understand what I was going through and offer me help when I felt as though I was beyond help. And on January 12, 2016, she helped me come out to my family.

Coming out to my family was a complete disaster, and arguably the worst decision I have ever made in my life (and I’ve made my fair share of bad choices). I got yelled at, chastised, told that I was just some confused lesbian who needed to find a good Christian therapist and some antidepressants, and that this was just a phase I would pass through. I also got the “mother knows best” speech, and was told that because I never tried to steal my father’s underwear or play dress up in his clothes, I wasn’t transgender. I was simply a confused little girl who needed some fixing up so that I would stop thinking that I wanted to be a boy.

That level of rejection coming from your own parents is one of the worst feelings a child can ever experience. I felt unwanted, unloved, and like I really was broken. The rest of junior year was a total disaster. My family relationships fell apart, I stopped talking to friends, and I just overall hated life. I felt as though everything sucked, and I didn’t want to be a part of it anymore.

I kept this mindset going into my senior year, but even though things were extremely rough, I was reminded that even broken glass let light shine through the cracks. I had the opportunity to continue work with my English teacher from the previous year, and my AP English teacher helped me to further expand upon my support network. Both teachers were there for me when things took a turn for the worse, and it felt amazing to have such a strong support network. It was my AP Lit teacher, though, that had helped me form a new sense of self confidence through starting to use more masculine pronouns and allowing me to use my name during class. She even gave me the chance to reflect on my personal experience through blogging and through the exploration of various forms of literature. I had also began to truly find some self acceptance, and I began to come out to a lot of my friends, who also were accepting and did their best to help me with everything that I had going on, which was an amazing and new experience for me.

These past years have been a hellish whirlwind for me, and I have plenty of physical and emotional scars to show that. The level of support that I have received from friends and teachers has been truly phenomenal, and I am totally blessed to have people willing to walk with me through an extremely difficult time in my life. While it is true that I have lost some friends along the way and have damaged some relationships that may never able to be repaired, the people that have stuck by my side are showering me with such tremendous amounts of love and support and I am eternally grateful for that.

Even though things have changed for the better over the past few years, I still have days where I feel like the awkward, uncomfortable child that doesn’t belong or the kid that has killed the princess of his mother’s dreams. And to be honest, those aren’t good feelings. But I know that for every bad day, there are countless good days, and I am so forever thankful for those good days and for everyone who has helped to make them possible. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for everyone who supports me.

Thank you.

~Emmett

[adabellatovey1990]

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[testosteronefluidity]

i’ve been doing really well for several days, like my mood has been stable, i’ve had a good amount of energy, i’ve been working out (but not overdoing it), and have been very productive with work but today i’m in this weird mixed state that keeps alternating between being super tearful and then jamming out to EDM and then crying again while i go for a walk (in the fucking rain for two hours) and since i’m like completely nonfunctional at this point i can’t even get myself to do things i enjoy like riding my bike or making art.

i’m so fucking agitated i had to take a significant amount of klonopin. it seems to be helping a bit but i’ll probably have to take some more in a little bit to fully calm myself down. i hate how high my tolerance is because when i have serious emergencies like this i have to take a shit ton while making sure i don’t run out for the month.

bipolar disorder fucking sucks, and it really sucks worse when you’re on T but your psychiatrist doesn’t know because you’re not getting it through fully legal means (though customs has never taken my T shipment even though it’s declared as medication coming from the UK, but it is prescribed to me by an NHS doctor so it’s somewhat legitimate.

i wish i had a car so i could drive the fuck out of indiana and go to illinois where they have informed consent HRT clinics that don’t make you go through the bullshit process of psychiatric gatekeeping (having to be diagnosed with gender dysphoria). Like, I have dysphoria (and dysmorphia) but I do not need to be given a psychiatric diagnosis because I am trans, and that is why I find other ways to access my testosterone. 

i don’t recommend doing this for most people, but when you live in a trans-unfriendly state with limited options (that are expensive) for trans healthcare, there are legitimate online pharmacies, such as the one i use, that are not scams - I’ve been receiving brand name testosterone gel for four months without problems, have gotten full blood panels done (when I was in the hospital) that were fully normal, and the T is not fake or watered down - I’m where I expected to be at 4 months with the gel. it takes a little longer to work, but i’m at a good place in my transition.

4 months in: growing facial hair, mostly a mustache which I shave, growing chin hairs which just come in randomly and are super long and dark, so i pluck those and will start shaving my neck soon. i’ll post a voice update soon today - a comparison to my very first days on T vs where I am now.

I still have trouble passing as anything but a woman, though i definitely get interacted with as a guy sometimes when people see me on my porch or in passing, but overall, waiting to pass at all is really infuriating and triggers my dysphoria, so I plan on staying at the regular trans guy dose for two more months (so at 6 months, i’ll go down to a lower dose that nb afab trans people take for partial transition. or i’ll decrease sooner if my voice gets close to be lower than i want it. 

i’m learning you have to pay attention to your body and if the changes start to seem like more than you want, you can always reduce your dose (this is more advice to transmasc nb people like me who want to be able to pass as a guy but mostly be seen as completely ambiguous. i have hope that i will get to that point sooner than later. 

i just hope the testosterone isn’t affecting my bipolar. i don’t think it is; otherwise i would actually tell my psychiatrist (i should given all the meds i’m on, but i also feel too nervous and worried he’d be pissed i hid this from him for so long). i don’t really worry about T and my mood because the first couple months i started it, i had a 3 month long period of complete stability. my mental health taking a turn for the worst is most likely due to the fact that my bipolar is extremely severe, i’m still recovering from my suicide attempt from july 27th, and some of my newer meds take weeks to reach a therapeutic dose.

i’m rambling but i needed to get this off my chest. it’s okay to be trans and also have serious mental health problems. that in no way should stop you from going on HRT as nb people, ftm people, and trans women. you are allowed to transition no matter if you struggle with serious mental health problems or not.

i will not let anyone force me to stop my testosterone. i’m finally feeling like i’ve reached a point where obvious changes are happening and i couldn’t be more thrilled.

so don’t give up hope on going on T if you have a mental illness. my bipolar episodes are a result of my illness being very difficult to manage with meds plus the severity of my illness. it’s not the T that’s fucking up my moods, it’s waiting for my meds to work and hoping that maybe, for the last time, i’m on something that will work for me

[arbitrarilymine]

Tuesday, 26.09.17, 18:29

Identities, Intersectionality and Erasure

Often, the identities I have and the way they intersect and interact make me feel like I’m spending too much time thinking (worrying) about them. As a gender non-binary pan-romantic greysexual (yes, it’s a mouthful, I know), I honestly spend a lot of time just... thinking about my gender and sexuality. Why? Simply because they’re not the “norm”, they’re not what people around me typically experience and because of that, I don’t really have any one to talk to about this. Which is why I end up figuring things out myself with the help of the internet. And the internet is, you know, great and wide and all, but it’s also not actual real life human interaction and contact, so there’s always that difference.

But let’s not speak so broadly. Let’s start from each identity and why, everytime I question myself, it feels like I’m doing something rather pointless. Firstly it’s difficult enough to figure out exactly what I want, what I feel, what I am (and not to mention that *that* is subjected to change as I grow older or experience more in life). And the fact that very little people around me can actually understand what I’m experiencing doesn’t help. Sure, they can empathise. Especially the friends who are gender non-conforming or gay or ace, those help. They do. They tend to understand better, because we’re all minorities, so to speak. But do they understand specifically my identity? No, because we don’t have the same ones (and that’s not even crossing over into intersectionality, which I would, in a bit). So, there’s that first bit about feeling lost in my own identity searching, so to speak. And me being gender non-binary... that took me quite a while to figure out, and I’m still not sure if it’s the best term to use, but it’s the best I can find for now, so.

The thing is, I feel uncomfortable when I’m referred to as a guy, which I have been mistaken for, multiple times. I’m generally alright with being referred to as she/her (aka female pronouns), but the moment gender norms on dressing and behavior set in, especially in more formal events like work or school, I... feel very, very uncomfortable being “female” or being expected to dress and behave what’s deemed appropriate for a girl. (Also, I don’t like the word “woman” being used on me. “Girl” is still acceptable, I think, maybe because I’ve been called that so many times since young that it’s not really uncomfortable.) So yeah, if she/her are pronouns that honor me, but they/them work too... and I don’t feel like I’m a dude, I’m comfortable with my body and I dress in a mostly androgynous style that seems more masculine (but I think is more unisex)... what am I?

And okay, it’s fine to not know. And like, a very common question from people who don’t experience this gender ...dysphoria (though I use the word loosely because it doesn’t cause me extreme distress, but it’s definitely a thing that weighs on my mind from time to time) is, does it really matter? Does it matter if I know whether I’m a girl or boy or woman or man or both or neither or what? DOES IT MATTER? they want to know. And the answer is, it seems like it doesn’t, but it does to me. Even if it’s rather insignificant, like it doesn’t seem to impact my life much... but then again, it does. It causes me discomfort whenever I’m in uncomfortable situations brought about my gendered expectations and like, ok, sure other people experience it too, but maybe the thing is (and the thing I should learn to tell myself is), just because others don’t think it’s an issue doesn’t mean it’s not an issue for you. It’s obviously a thing that’s on my mind, that bothers me, and that’s ok.

I don’t know, I ended up going in a circle to give myself advice. Okay, nevermind, let’s continue while my train of thought is still going.

Pan-romantic. For the last few years, I figured I was pansexual. But recently I’ve started realising I’m more on the grey-end of the sexual spectrum. I don’t experience much ...sexual desires usually, but they do come, once in a while, and stay for a period of a few months? But mostly I think I’m more on the ace end of the spectrum, but also, I read a lot of explicit and mature fanfic/media so it’s not like I’m completely ace either. So basically, greysexuality aside, let’s talk about the pan aspect of my identity. Pan-romantic means I like people, regardless of their gender. I’ll like to believe I’m open to gender non-conforming people, which is why I don’t really use bi (except to make it easier to explain to people), but really, if you count the people I’ve been attracted to, it’s girls and guys. But anyway, let’s leave the door open on gender non-conforming and trans people, because who knows? So I’m pan, but what I’m going to say next is going to sound more like bi-erasure because that’s the more realistic extent of my experiences so far.

Being pan (or “bi”) is like this. I’ve told people. They tend to advice me not to come out “unless I really fall in love with a girl”, as if it’s *lucky* that I’m not straight out lesbian (ignoring for a moment here that I identify as gender non-binary and not female). It’s like, being pan (”bi”) is seen as a, “oh hey, you can pass as straight, so why not use it to your advantage” from the straight crowd, and a “oh hey, you’re lucky to not be as discriminated as us gay/les people because you can hide” and getting kind of a ...discriminated treatment from the gay crowd and just. I get that they’re looking at this from their perspective and pan/bi seems like such a fun place to be but trust me, it’s not. It’s not lucky or what, because those who are straight tend to see me as straight and those who are not will see me as “not gay enough”? And yeah, it doesn’t matter what these people think per se, but it’s being caught in the middle as if I want to that makes it suck. It’s also, dating a dude and being assumed to be straight and having to hide my relationship with a girl because oh hey, we’re not ready to come out. Because, why would a pan/bi person come out? Why would a pan/bi person not go for the “easiest” option (i.e. “straight” which, like dude, that’s such a heteronomative idea, because I like people, not gender). So really, erasure is such a thing and I’m sick of it.

But hey, that’s not the last bit. There’s greysexuality. And also, I forgot, monogamous (because I don’t have enough energy and love for polyamory) and also my current wish to remain single until I feel that I’m ready for a relationship. You see, being monogamous, when paired with being pan/bi means I’ll always be seen as “straight” or “gay” just based on who I’m dating at the moment unless I clarify (But oh hey, I don’t owe anyone an explanation, so I don’t need to explain, but also, ERASURE). And my current desire to remain single brings the question of, does it matter if I’m pan or greyace or what if I’m not even going to be dating anyone?

(The answer is, yes, it does, to me.)

But because it seems the only person this really matters to is me (as it should be, I suppose), it means it’s hard to find anyone to talk to about this. Like, ugh, I know, they can just listen, I don’t have to tell anyone, etc. etc. but. I’m also only human. I can think about all these alone, in my head, but I don’t exist in a void, and I’m just tired of feeling like none of my identities matter and yet I spend so much time trying to figure myself out and just. I don’t know man, it’s a real pain. And it’s also partly the reason why I’d rather be single because one, I can’t figure myself out enough and two, it’s really hard to find someone who can understand or at least accept all these. So far the intersectionality of my identities have made it so that the people I’ve dated don’t... understand or even, at the very least, begin to empathise? And that’s a huge gap in a relationship, at least one I want to be in, and just. I’m tired. Obviously I do want human comfort as well, but for now friends and family are it. Because just. I’m tired.

This is a mess, I didn’t read it through but I’m going to publish it anyway because I think I should.