#but anyway so i never felt really comfortable wearing my binder

[oppositeslut]

I am going to be SO brave tmr guys wish me luck 🙏🏽🤞🏽

[ellilyre]

Ive lose the ask asking for my transmasc!Leo headcanon TT but i have them written down so imma post em like that

Leo transmasc headcanon

(many things are based on my own experience. Especially the dysphoria related things (so when i talk about Leo not being a real boy it is what he thinks bc of dysphoria. It’s not true.))

(warning angst angst (but thats Leo so that was expected)

it was so obvious even when he was small. He always wanted to play with boys, wear boys clothes, ect… His mom was fine with it. She bought him boys toys and clothes and even sometimes called him hijo. She was a bit confused, but she knew it made her child happy and it's all that mattered. 

However, it didn’t go that well with his foster homes. However much he tried, they always stuck to his deadname and she/her. That was a big part of the reason he kept running away. 

There really is no story behind the name Leo. He picked that one bc it sounded cool. 

Once he got a good enough passing, he did everything he could so ppl will assume he’s cis.

Don’t ask me how he gots his hands on hrt. It’s a long and weird story.

The wilderness school was very strict about not mixing girls and boys in dorms. 

Piper was his roommate, that’s how they met. 

In their memories created by Hera, Jason has kinda always known he’s trans. So Leo never bothered to hide it from Jason (as he does with others).

But Jason doesn’t have much (any) education on transidentity… At first he assumed Leo was a cis guy, and then some things were a bit confusing (why was he in fem dorms ? Why does he wear a tank top under his shirt ? Did he just ask Piper for a tampon???) but he just kinda gave up on trying to understand, bc Leo is a nice guy anyways. And with time (and exterior knowledge on the matter) he started to put the pieces together and to understand that “ooh ok that makes sense". 

Otherwise. Leo has no desire to get out of his comfortable closet. 

He has such a fragile masculinity 

Sometimes he acts a little bit macho. He’s aware he’s acting like an asshole but he’s terrified of being perceived as feminine. 

Why does he try to flirt with every girl he sees ? Another attempt to pass better (and comfort himself in his fragile masculinity) by copying stereotypical boys' things.

He overbind so much, GODS. Man will wear his binder for 11h straight (while fighting and running around) and then have the audacity to complain that his body hurts.

Piper tries very hard to remind him to take proper breaks. 

Jason is the biggest gender envy ever. He is handsome, tall, muscular… Leo really loves him but he also is so jealous and envious. 

He is very envious of other boys in general. 

When Percy got woken up in the middle of the night and left his cabin shirtless. When Frank went to take a break in the men’s restroom…

Gods, he would do anything to just be a normal boy. To be like them. To have their bodies. To not have to destroy his body to look slightly more masculine. To not have this constant fear that they’re gonna find out. 

And to add to the reasons why he felt so much like the 7th wheel : Among the 7 there are 3 girls, 3 boys… And Leo. Forever inbetween. Not a girl, but not a boy like the others either. 

Fortunately, with time he learnt to accept himself better and to feel more comfortable with others. 

Piper helped him to go easier on himself. And he had an actual proper talk with Jason.

The first person he actually came out to was probably Annabeth, bc she’s cool and wise and nice. 

And then he saw it actually was ok. She didn’t treat him any differently, she didn’t tell anyone else. She was cool with it.

He then told Frank and Hazel, with Piper’s help (mostly to explain to Hazel all those new terms). And it also went very great ! He then also told Percy and Nico. 

He’s not entirely out, just to his closest friends and his siblings at camp. And it’s enough. 

He still overbinds, but he has ppl to (discreetly) remind him to take care of himself. He’s still very dysphoric but his loved ones know how to remind him that he is their brother, an amazing boy.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Binders and Bonding

Negan x Non Gender Specific!Reader

Summary: Negan finds you trying on a binder. Very soft stuff.

Requests are: OPEN

Since the beginning of the apocalypse, you have had one binder. A ratty old thing you'd had from before The Fall.

And when that binder had fallen apart and was no longer useable? Well, it's safe to say that you had a considerable cry. Binders were not necessarily something easy to come by when the world was still running, never-mind when it had all but ceased to function.

So when you had found a binder in your size down in the market at the Sanctuary, you had snatched that up without a second of hesitation. You'd kept it hidden for another day or two while you waited for Negan to go out. On a run, to a meeting- to anything really.

You'd never told him about that part of yourself. Never felt comfortable enough to try to. Sure, you were relatively masculine in the way you presented yourself- in the way you spoke and moved and thought, but it was just... part of you. Not something you really thought about needing to tell people unless something was really bothering you.

And Negan didn't bother you.

So when Negan had a meeting he was moaning about having to attend for 'the whole Goddamn day, doll. Just kill me now-' you knew this was your chance.

It had been so long since you'd put a binder on, anyway- what if you didn't like it anymore? What if it hurt? What if it didn't feel like you anymore and you'd just wasted a whole bunch of credits on something you couldn't even wear?

Thumbing the fabric, you bit your lip nervously. You were standing by the window, watching all the people way down below. You were lucky not to have to be one of the workers. Lucky enough to be one of Negan's partners but also one of his advisors. A unique position created just for you.

But it just... wasn't quite you. Not yet.

Deciding to just bite the bullet and pull the binder on, you felt immediate comfort at the tight stretch of the fabric across your body.

How you could have ever thought this wasn't you anymore was a fucking mystery. You hadn't even adjusted yet for the right fit and waves of comfort and relief were pouring over you. Quickly and quietly, heart pounding out of your chest- you adjusted yourself to get the best (and safest) results.

You threw on one of Negan's tee's over the top, relishing in the flatness of your chest. Oh, this? Negan's smell and cologne wrapped around you, and the relief of seeing yourself in the mirror and feeling so genuinely you? It was... perfect.

You eyed yourself in the mirror as you pulled the collar of your shirt up to wipe away a tear that had escaped.

"Well, would you look at that-" you hear a low voice from behind you. "You know I do love to see you in my clothes."

From behind you in the mirror you could see Negan hadn't noticed yet. He was too busy looking up your legs and at the peek of ass cheek below the hem of the tee.

"Negan-" you said, hastily wiping the residue of the tear away. "I thought you had a meeting?"

"Emergency on the East Side," he replied. "Thought I'd send Simon to deal with it and come back to bed. It's good being the big bad wolf."

You chuckled and turned to face him. It took all of about two seconds for Negan to notice something was significantly different. He didn't say anything at first, just taking in what he was seeing.

You briefly wondered if he even knew what a binder was.

"I... I can explain," you said after a couple tense seconds, wringing your hands together anxiously. Negan stepped forward and pressed his finger to your lips, effectively shushing you.

"So this explains the size of your humongous balls then, huh," he chuckled. "Not lady-nuts after all. Just a pair of manly big dick-swinging balls."

You blushed at the crudeness. One of the things you liked most about him. He grinned at you, gaze flitting between your eyes and your lips.

"Suppose this might be the right time to tell you..." he leans in close, whispering into your ear with a voice deep as gravel. "I swing both ways."

He pulls away to run his hand down your side.

"And you? You are hot as fuck," he trails open-mouthed kisses across your throat. "Never thought there'd be another man here to rival me, but here- we- are."

You bit your lip, so taken aback by his support and care for you. He hadn't asked you a single question about any of this yet. But it was a breath of fresh air to have someone just understand.

"Doesn't matter why you didn't tell me, darling," he says as if he can read your thoughts. "I get it. But we are definitely gonna need to find you some more of these."

You laughed, practically tackling him for a kiss. He grabbed at your hair and pressed himself up against you, savouring the taste of you- savouring the feel of you. And if the hard tent in his pants was anything to go by, he was definitely enjoying himself.

When he pulls away, he has a soft look that you've not seen very often from him. A loving look.

"You do look very handsome," he says, pressing his forehead to yours.

"Guess I've finally got myself a husband."

[rainy-wallflower]

Small little post about my experiences with gender lately.

So, I am nonbinary with chest-related dysphoria. I have been almost exclusively wearing binders for a few years now, but very recently the dysphoria was getting worse. There's a certain point in binding where there is just too much to hide, and that is really frustrating. For the longest time I thought I looked weird and my dysphoria got worse because all of that had no where to go, so if anything my chest felt a little accentuated.

My binders are finally getting old and a little worn, and gc2b is pretty expensive for a college kid who can't spend a lot of money this summer, so I decided to consider bras again. I had an old one I tried first, and somehow it really helped, which threw me for a loop. This thing that I had been avoiding for years because it gave me gender dysphoria, was now fixing my gender dysphoria that was caused by the thing meant to lessen gender dysphoria. It was a weird couple of weeks.

However, I bit the bullet the other day and went bra shopping, so now I have some cheaper, up to date options, and goddamn. Threw one on this morning and felt pretty good. I am unsure if I'm happy or upset about that just yet. It's a weird step in my self love journey for sure, but I'd rather do something that makes me feel comfortable than what I think I should be doing as a nonbinary person.

Anyway, that's been me. Happy pride month! If you're binding, please bind safely. Remember kids, your clothing will never dictate who you are, only you can. Have a gay day, I love y'all

❤🧡💛💚💙💜

[qveerthe0ry]

Lions Ain't the Kind - Part 3.5

Summary: Frankie asks you about transitioning Pairing: Frankie Morales x NB/Gender-fluid! AFAB! Reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, talks about gender non-conformity, talks about gender dysphoria, mentions of transitioning, mentions of HRT and gender affirming surgery, chest binding, use of packers A/N: I said I wasn't going to post anymore of this series until July but I was WRONG! I wote this for @romanarose 's Pride Event. Week 2: Transitioning. I realized that writing this little snippet would actually add a lot of depth to reader and explain more about what their gender identity means to them (while also reiterating that Frankie is a perfect little sweetie pie)

“Do you ever want to get surgeries? You know, like, gender affirming ones?”

You pause Netflix to turn to Frankie, shirtless and looking at you with genuine curiosity. 

“Why do you ask?” 

His brows draw up.

“Just wondering. This is all kinda new to me, I guess, and I’ve done some research… I just know it’s an option and— yeah, I mean— I really am just curious.”

The backs of his knuckles trace your arm, and goosebumps form there. 

“That’s a bit of a loaded question, honestly. Do you want the short answer or the long answer?”

He smiles, soft, and you swear he’s an angel with that halo of curls framing his head. 

“I wanna know whatever you wanna tell me.”

You smile too, tangle your legs with his under the sheets and get relaxed for the conversation you’ve never been so comfortable having before now. 

“So… basically, I think the pros and cons completely stalemate each other. You know? There are things about hormones and surgery that I’d enjoy. But… because I’m so fluid, I’d also sometimes not enjoy them. Does that make sense?” 

Frankie nods, “I think so, yeah.”

“And that’s the thing— Right now, there are things about my natural body that sometimes I like, and then sometimes those same things make me uncomfortable.”

“Dysphoria?” He asks, a timid and sad tone weighing down the word. 

“Yeah— exactly. Look at you, Mister Research.” 

A bashful dimple appears as he ducks his head. 

“So, there’s things I have that help. They’re temporary… but… so is the dysphoria. I think, for me, the best decision is to lean into those temporary aides. I mean for one, it’s cheaper. And much less invasive. Why go through all of that just to be in the same boat, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get that. I’m sorry you have to compromise, though. Sounds… Not easy.”

You shrug, but you’re smiling, because it’s quite thrilling to have someone so understanding in your corner, and your bed, and your life. 

“Thank you. You’re right, y’know, it isn’t easy. Especially when it comes to dating. So it’s really nice that you’re… Well— that you’re you.”

A surprised breath leaves him as his eyes light up. 

“It’s nice that you’re you, too. I like you, everything about you.”

It’s silent for a moment as you stare at each other, smiling, sunny, giddy almost. 

“What— umm… What are those things that help? You don’t have to tell me, but… If you want to, I’d like to know.”

You nod. 

“Yeah okay.”

You take a deep breath and debate on what would be easiest to start with. 

“You know how you asked me what those marks were on my back yesterday? In the shower?”

“Yeah, you said it was just indents from your blanket. Were they not?”

You shake your head. 

“I use this stuff called transtape. It’s used to bind your chest, you know? So it looks flat? Sometimes it leaves little marks— like a bandaid would.”

“So it’s like a binder? But… tape, instead of a garment?”

“Exactly. I was wearing it that day you… it’s why I haven’t really let you touch, yet. It’s kind of unsexy to explain in the moment.”

“Why didn’t you wear it in the shower? Should I not have looked?”

Worry creases his brow, but you huff a laugh and grab his hand. 

“No, it’s okay. I wanted to shower with you, and I needed to replace it anyway. It— I mean, like I’ve said, sometimes it bothers me and sometimes it doesn’t. I felt like we were in a rush, and it wasn’t… sexual. And I felt comfortable with you like that. I knew you wouldn’t gawk or… comment, or anything. I liked being able to just be myself with you, and having you still see me as me.”

“Oh, okay. I mean… I liked what I saw. Is that… okay to say?”

You roll your eyes and laugh.

“Yes, you’re allowed to like my tits, Pretty Boy.” 

He flushes, but his eyes glance down to your chest in a brief flicker. 

“You’re wearing the tape, now?”

“I am. Do you wanna see?” 

“I— I mean, yeah. If you wanna show me.”

So you do. You slowly slide your shirt off, and you bare yourself. You feel confident, which is new, in a situation like this. 

He stares, like he’s studying you. His eyes take catalog of the different pieces, the way they’re shaped, the way they hold everything up and back and flatten. 

His fingers twitch under yours, and you squeeze them before letting go. 

“You can touch,” you whisper. 

He does. In an instant, his fingers gently trace the edge of the tape, then his palm covers it all, right over your heart that’s pounding. 

“You’re so… fuck, I’m sorry, I don’t wanna be weird. You’re just really hot.”

You do preen a bit, even if you don’t want to admit it. He makes you feel so good about who you are. 

“That’s not weird. I think you’re hot too, so it’s good we’re on the same page.”

He hums, traces his middle finger down the center of your chest, so light it tickles. 

“What else?” 

“Huh?”

“There’s more, right? More… aides?”

You nod slowly. 

“You know what a packer is?” 

He nods slowly. 

“I’ve read about them. I haven’t seen one.”

“I haven’t worn one around you. It could be confusing at first, right?”

You feel sweat start to prickle at the back of your neck. 

“It could be, yeah. I get that. You can, now. You always could have, you know?” 

“Yeah, I know, now.”

He clears his throat, and gives you a signature Frankie grin, and the room starts to feel a little less stifling. 

“If you want to show me, I’d like to see. I wanna know everything about you, when you’re ready for me to.” 

You debate for a minute, how to show him, which one to show him, before you get out of bed and duck down to grab the box that’s under your bed frame. 

“I have a few, they’re all different,” you start to explain. 

You set the box next to him, then crawl into bed too, and unhook the latches on the lid. 

He sits patiently as you open it, and you’re afraid to look at him when they’re revealed. 

“That’s a lot of penises. Peni?”

You choke on an awkward, startled laugh and shake your head. 

“I know, I know.”

“No, it’s cool. I wish I could have a different dick for each occasion.”

And he’s laughing with you, not at you, and you finally brave a look at his face. 

His eyes run curious circles around the inside of the box, but when he notices you watching him, his gaze falls on you again. 

“Tell me about them.” 

So you do. 

You explain that the smaller one is easiest to wear in public without feeling awkward, but still feeling euphoric. The mid-sized one is usually for the odd occasion where you go out to clubs or bars or other queer spaces. The biggest one, you tell him, is for when you’re just at home, and you want to be able to look in the mirror and see you, on those days where you need to be as masculine as possible. 

“What about this one? It’s smaller too.” 

“It’s uhh… well, it’s a 3-in-1.”

“What does that mean?”

You pull it out of the box to show him the back of it. 

“So this is like— so I can pee standing up. And then this” you say, grabbing the rod that’s lying in the box, “is to make it hard. So I can penetrate, or ‘jerk off’ with it. I don’t wear it out much, except for maybe when I’m gonna be out all day and I don’t know the bathroom situation.” 

You look up to find his eyes and mouth both wide. 

“That’s sick,” he says, then swiftly adds— “in a good way. I didn’t know that was a thing.” 

You hum and nod. 

“Do you… wish you were wearing one? Right now?” 

And it’s kinda weird, the way he asks so innocently, but you really do. Especially with the way you’re shirtless and taped up right in front of him. 

“Kinda, yeah.” 

“Can I see it? You can say no. But— how does it work? Like, is it secure?” 

You place your 3-in-1 back in the box, and grab your medium sized one. 

“Let me show you.” 

You’re already wearing your favorite briefs to pack with. You have a lot of pairs and they’re comfy with or without. So you shed your sweatpants and get up on your knees to show him.

“There’s a secret pocket in here,” you tell him, “these aren’t good for the 3-in-1, since the pocket is between the packer and my skin. But I have different underwear for those.” 

He nods, and watches you pull the waistband down to show him the pocket. 

“You could keep snacks in there, too.” 

You laugh at the silly look in his eyes. 

“Not sure they’d be that good, all pressed up against my crotch.”

“I’d eat ‘em,” he says, and wiggles his eyebrows for good measure. 

“Noted,” you joke, “so— yeah, I just, put it in here.”

And you do, sliding the packer into place and fiddling the waistband back.

“I mean, usually I look in the mirror to make sure it looks right, adjust it so it doesn’t pinch anything when I walk.” 

He nods as he stares at your crotch, and his hand reaches out to wrap around your thigh. 

“And it feels good? To have that there?” 

“Yeah, when I’m dysphoric. Just having that weight there, it feels real and right.” 

He smiles at this, so wide, so sweet. 

“Wear it around me. When you want to. I want you to feel that way, always. Okay?”

Your throat feels a little thick, and your eyes sting a bit, but you still smile. 

“Okay,” you whisper. 

“C’mere,” he whispers back. 

You close your box and place it on the floor, as quick as you can. He pulls you to him tight, and it feels incredible, to have all of your bare skin against his own, finally, nothing but your tape in between you. 

He kisses you without a bit of urgency, just lax and syrupy. His hand is firm against your spine, pressing you to him, and you feel dizzy when he pulls away. 

“Thank you for showing me everything,” he says.

“Thanks for… just… being cool.” 

He chuckles, then coaxes you on your back, so his head can take its coveted position back, over your chest. Your naked, flat chest. You hold the remote toward the TV, intent on unpausing your show, but he stops you. 

“Can I hold it?”

“The remote?”

“No— your dick. Just to keep it warm? No funny business.” And he’s looking up at you with those damn eyes again, and how could you say no to that?

last part/next part

[manicpixiedreamguy]

The trans man's guide to singing (on T and other things)

Introduction:

First things first: I am a trans man on HRT who's studying to become a professional singer (not opera lmao, I'm studying modern singing) and all the information I'm providing comes from my personal experience and what my current teacher, who's been teaching me since I started T, taught and told me during my voice change. This is directed towards people who want to go professional because, again, that's my personal experience, but if you're reading this because you like singing as just a hobby, most of what I'll be talking about applies to you too. I might overexplain things because I want this whole thing to be understandable to everyone, including people who barely know what vocal cords and the diaphragm are; on the same note, I hope I don't end up sounding condescending and if I do, just know that's not my intention at all. I won't be saying anything about pre-T voice training because I never did that and giving the wrong advice when it comes to these things can lead to serious damage to people's vocal cords and throats, so this is strictly a singing through and after a voice change post.

The Basics:

The first thing you have to do is talk to your teacher and explicitly tell them everything about your situation (this applies to anyone, cis or trans: you've worn a back brace during your whole childhood? Tell them. You've had any kind of surgery on your nose? Tell them, and so on; they'll probably ask anyway). I know it can be hard and even scary when you're trans, but if you don't do it you won't achieve your goals; I remember going to another teacher when I was a semi-closeted teenager without disclosing I wanted to work more on my lower register and it made my dysphoria so much worse that I just quit after a few months and didn't try taking singing lessons again for years. And being straightforward helps with both finding a good teacher and finding a safe and positive environment by avoiding bigots (sad, but true). Being honest with your teacher is also crucial because when it comes to singing, it's very important to find positions that feel comfortable and don't physically hurt your throat and vocal cords (or any other body part that's involved in singing) in order to not train your muscle memory on movements that are detrimental for your body, and while no one can find them for you, you need to tell your teacher when something your muscles are doing hurts or feels uncomfortable. Singing is almost like doing sports as the vocal cords are muscles that can and do get hurt, and adopting the wrong positions can result in a less than ideal performance at best and in injury at worst. I can't really help with this though, because I can't tell someone else how to move their own body and how to flex their own muscles and I am not a teacher, I can just tell you to take it slow and that when something's right you'll feel it and when something's wrong you'll also feel it. And remember that something not working for you doesn't make you a failed singer or anything like that, it just means you haven't found what works for you yet.

Singing while wearing a binder:

I wanted to start with this first because I think it's very important. Back in the day I've read posts on the Internet saying you should not sing while wearing a binder and while I do get where those posts are coming from, not everyone can afford to not wear one, myself included (before getting my top surgery last year). At first I tried going to my singing lessons with a sports bra under a loose flannel shirt (that kind of pattern, along with checkered patterns, helps hiding curves) but honestly it sucked as I felt too dysphoric, so I had to come up with a solution. At the time I happened to have an older, more stretched out looser binder that I decided to relegate to the role of singing binder because it didn't do its job properly anymore as an every day binder, but if worn with looser shirts in warm weather and layers in cold weather, it was perfect for singing. It still hid my chest fairly well and wasn't as constrictive as a newer and tighter binder would have been. One important thing to keep in mind is that while wearing a binder your ribcage doesn't have as much freedom as it would have without one and while that does suck, don't beat yourself up if you notice that it's difficult to do some things. I've sung while wearing a binder for most of my life and you can make it work, it just takes time and patience. If you can/want to, you can just not wear anything underneath your shirt to sing, but personally I tried doing that like once and felt awful. And if you wear tape, I guess that would be the best option; I never figured out how to wear it so I have no experience with it, I watched video tutorials and stuff but for me it never worked and I still don't know what I did wrong, but if you do wear it, try going with that.

Singing after top surgery:

I'm sorry for what I'm about to say, but after top surgery you'll have to forget how you sang while wearing a binder and start learning (almost) all over again because it's a whole 'nother story: your posture will be better and your ribcage will be more free, making you able to hold notes for longer and breathe in more air, which means you'll have to do some adjustments. First things first, you'll have to wait at least a month after your surgery to sing again (that's what my surgeon told me but you should still talk to yours, even though I'd say that as long as you'll have to wear the post surgery tight thing I forgot the name of you should avoid singing) and you'll have to take things slow. I got my surgery in August 2023 and I'm still (re)learning stuff, so be patient because it's worth it, my ribcage feels so much better now and my posture has improved, making singing overall better and easier. The most important rule when it comes to singing is listen to your body. If something feels weird or wrong, stop, figure out (with your teacher if you're taking lessons) why it feels like that and try to fix it (again, with your teacher); don't push yourself too far/too hard, otherwise you could get hurt. This applies to singing with a binder, singing after surgery, and just singing in general. Trans, cis, doesn't matter: listen to your body. I can't say anything more about this because everyone's different so I don't think I should be giving tips as what works for me might not work for you, you have to figure it out yourself. Having a teacher helps and there are some things that are pretty much universal, but their body is not your body and there are multiple ways to do the same thing based on each individual's preferences, needs, and bodies.

Can I/should I take singing lessons while my voice is still changing?

Yes, it's actually recommended! I've already said it here, but a couple months before going on HRT I found out through another trans man singer's website that taking singing lesson during your voice change helps a lot, both with your technique and with your voice is general. For your technique, it's beneficial because otherwise you'd end up with a completely different and untrained voice all of a sudden, making it harder to get back into singing and harder to find new positions that work for you, and for your voice in general, it just make the change easier. I have recordings of me singing and talking that I made each month as my voice change progressed and while my singing voice was a mess, some months literally changing every week (not necessarily going lower and lower each time, one week I'd be a baritone and the week later I'd be a tenor for some reason, then back to baritone and so on), my speaking voice rarely cracked. No idea if it's related to me taking singing lessons since the beginning but I'm saying this regardless just in case. For reference, I started T on August 4, 2021 (on this exact same day three years ago!) and started taking singing lessons the following month, so I've basically trained my voice during its entire journey.

Oh no, my voice change is a mess!

Worry not! It's totally normal and there will be lots of adjusting to do and what works for one week or one month or any other period of time probably won't work anymore as your voice keeps changing (especially when trying to switch from your regular voice to your falsetto, as your muscle memory was trained to switch at/on a different range), that's frustrating but, again, normal so don't panic if a position you adopted for a few weeks suddenly doesn't work anymore and you'll end up sounding like a hairdryer with no sound coming out of your mouth. Actually, sometimes what my teacher and I call the hairdryer effect isn't even a matter of positions, sometimes during your voice change you just won't have some specific notes and your voice will break instead but again don't panic, the notes will come eventually. While my voice did drop pretty fast, it took me around two years to finally get a full range (in my case the missing notes were exactly in between my regular register and my falsetto register, making switching between the two a pain; I think it's actually how it is for everyone in general but I'm not sure as I am just me y'know). Also my teacher told me most guys' voices will drop very low for a while and then stabilize themselves on a higher speaking range and while it kinda didn't happen to me according to her due to me being a bass-baritone and my voice stabilizing itself on a much lower speaking range, that's the average experience. Anyway don't worry, your lower notes aren't gone, you still have them but you'll have to work a little more than you used to to hit them.

Figuring out your range and type:

I'll have to tell you about voice types, ranges and classifications first. There are many different voice type classification systems, none of which universally applied (music is messy), so I'll go with the basic operatic six types one that I grew up with and that most people use. From highest to lowest: soprano, mezzosoprano (also known as just mezzo), contralto, tenor, baritone, bass. Those are the main groups, but there are subcategories as well, such as countertenor (sometimes considered a main group for some reason, no shade though) and bass-baritone (my voice type! 👋). If your voice's done changing or if you are pre-T, figuring out your range and type will be quite easy but if your voice is still changing, don't worry about it, you'll just have to check what it's up to from time to time until it'll be done and it'll settle on its final range and type (me and my deep ass voice had to go through almost the entire male range spectrum in like a year and a half so I'm speaking from experience here). An important thing to know is that pitch isn't everything as there are many other characteristics that together define and categorize a person's voice, and that voice range and voice type are two separate things as well; your vocal range doesn't define your voice type on its own because voice types are more about where you feel more comfortable singing rather than what notes you can hit (which is what defines the range of one's voice). To have an idea of what you'll probably sound like after your voice's done changing, you have to see what you sound like pre-T. The length of the vocal cords plays a huge role in this: the longer the vocal cords are, deeper the voice is; testosterone puberty results in elongated vocal cords, so if you've always had longer vocal cords like in my case, your voice will be on the lower end of the spectrum. As I just said, I had a pretty low voice pre-T, as I was a contralto as a preteen (I sang in a choir from age nine to twelve, started as a mezzo but then my voice started dropping around eleven years old), and therefore have a pretty low voice now, as I am a bass-baritone (a subtype of both the baritone and the bass types; the term refers to a lower baritone or a higher bass that can sing both and I am a lower baritone but usually sing bass because it's more physically comfortable for me), because I have long vocal cords and that's it; and while there aren't many studies about the exact role of genetics in the developing of the human voice, I sound eerily similar to my father so here's that.

Don't think that starting T sooner would have given you a deeper voice because I started it at twenty and while I acknowledge that's still fairly young, my first puberty was (sadly) already done and yet my voice is deeper than most cis men's (both statistically and anecdotally speaking). You can start whenever and it won't impact how your voice turns out. And if you're thinking about starting to smoke to make your voice lower: don't. I'm a former smoker myself and while I don't make a fuss about people smoking because I'm European, it's just counterproductive from a logical standpoint. Though one thing about singers is that, just like doctors, we smoke; when you meet a singer there's a high chance they're a smoker and if they aren't there's a high chance they used to be, no idea why. Anyway, don't smoke because it's not worth ruining your voice and lung capacity over and it's also not recommended at all while on testosterone (I smoked very little, like a few cigarettes every two weeks or sometimes even once a month, and my endocrinologist still told me to quit because my blood tests were a little messed up because of that). While it's best to go to a professional, there are YouTube videos that illustrate how to find your vocal range if you want to do that on your own or only plan to sing as a hobby, so I won't say anything about that. What I will say though, is that you should warm up first (always warm up first at least a little no matter what you do, especially if you plan to sing in the morning; even just talking out loud for a while can count as warming your voice up) and if you want to find out your range on your own please use the aforementioned YouTube videos, I've watched and even used a few back in the day and they'll tell you exactly how to do things right, don't just start belting out note after note until your voice is straining and uncomfortable because you'll get hurt (I want to make clear, as I've mentioned the possibility of getting hurt in the previous paragraphs, that getting hurt when it comes to singing ranges from having a bit of a sore throat for a while because you didn't drink water before performing to permanently ruining your voice and losing parts of your range because you tried metal screaming with no training so yeah, be careful).

Useful exercises:

In my experience the most useful exercises to do during a voice change are interval slides with the classic, iconic brrr (that I had to look up the name of because I swear no one, not even one singer, in human history has ever called it by its proper name: lip roll; I'm leaving the brrr thing instead of editing it out because it's funny) and some basic hear it and sing it. Also my teacher and I found out, during a phoniatrician check-up I did while my voice was still changing, that singing big jumps between notes helps a lot, even though I have no idea why. Basically, get a piano or keyboard (here's a link for a virtual piano if you need it), play random notes, and sing; it's important for you to switch between your modal (what I've been referring to as "regular" in this post) register and your falsetto register. I suck at explaining things, but this is what you have to do: play one note, sing it, then play the next, and so on. Additionally, I went through my text conversations with my teacher back when my voice was at the beginning of its journey and found the links to three videos we used a lot at the time, so here they are: this 10 minute vocal warm up, some beginner bass vocal warm ups, and some other bass-baritone vocal warm ups. If you go through these channels you'll find other exercises for other voice types and ranges as well. I recommend using jazz singer Judy Niemack's recordings (playlist linked in the above paragraph) because those are the one I used and still use. Your range and voice type don't really matter, you can either harmonize with her or sing in your comfortable range (in tune!) (or not in tune if you're doing this as a hobby I guess, I'm a singer not a cop) (but ear training is fundamental if you want to go professional, so: in tune!).

Alright I think I explained pretty much everything, but if you have questions don't hesitate to ask! I'll be more than happy to answer.

[enemy-to-the-state]

I Am Transsexual and Want An Education

Most of you know I am a transsexual. I do not hide it and I have never tried to.  

I am also a college student. Like many Americans, I cannot really afford to be there. Many trans people like me cannot afford higher education either.  

Transgender people don’t have the same kind of opportunities that cisgender people do. Either you live a lie and torture yourself because you know your family will forsake you if you say anything, you tell them everything and are kicked out, or you are lucky enough to get a neutral to positive response. Yes, neutral is lucky. 

The trans folks that say nothing and live in agony being unsupported and trapped can maybe go to college but know that if they say anything their tuition might be out the door, that their parents or family or guardians will throw them to the wolves. So they either suffer in silence or end up committing suicide. 

The trans folks that came out and were kicked out have basically no chance at ever going to college. You might be able to get government and private loans, but you’ll be drowning in debt by the end of it all. Debt you may never be able to pay off alone. 

The remaining lucky ones most likely still come from low to middle income families that can’t really afford college anyways. It is a borderline no-win scenario. 

How is this fair? Can’t everybody see this is cruel? This is a struggle faced by all queer people, but is intensified by the trans label. We are easy targets. 

I was once talking to a girl who was also queer, but not trans. I said, “Rae, in my state, it is illegal for me to use a public restroom. It is illegal for public institutions to give me my life saving medication. I have almost no rights. We are witnessing a modern-day segregation.” I live in Florida. 

She turned to me and said, “You know it’s hard for me too. There are like, no gay bars in my city. No fun ones anyway.” 

I felt like I had been slapped. I never really talked to her again.  

Of course, all queer people face oppression, but for her to dismiss the violent and dangerous actions that are being taken against my people in favor of her own problems highlights a deeper issue with the attitude towards trans people. 

We are an afterthought. 

We are different. 

Other people are so far removed from the plight of trans people that they do not recognize how privileged they are by comparison and damn it I refuse to be an afterthought for much longer. 

I do not want to live in quiet, secret moments anymore. I do not want to be in the shadows and behind closed doors. I want to feel comfortable out in the open. I shouldn’t have to hide. Let me wear what I want and be what I am. Let me hold my boyfriend’s hand in public. Let me be able to take off my binder or just not wear it at all. Let my people have healthcare and basic human decency. Let us get an education and let us use the goddamn bathroom. Let us. Let us. Let us. 

[v3nusxsky]

Hey first of all i’ve been loving your fics they’re so good. I was wondering if i could request maybe a a larissa x reader with a trans (ftm) reader or maybe a non binary reader who bind and it’s a really big deal for them to let people be around them or see them without their binder on so when they are finally ready it’s a big deal and larissa just showers them with love and reassurances that she will always see them for themselves. if u don’t wanna write this just completely ignore me anyways have a wonderful day :)

Hey anon i gave this my best shot I hope it’s what you were searching for and that I haven’t messed up too badly. I hope you have a wonderful day/night.

This is me| fluff

*Authors note| it's a short one I'm sorry! I hope I've done this okay, I don't have much experience with this topic but I wanted to give it my best shot, thank you to the people who bind that gave me some irl experience.*

Trigger warnings ~ none? Binding? Dysphoria

Prompt ~see ask^^

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Feeling comfortable in your own skin is always so important. After all if your not comfortable with yourself how could you be confident and live life to the fullest. Some people are lucky and they are comfortable in the skin they are born with, some aren't so lucky and unfortunately that was you. For years now you'd battled with this alone, not quite fitting into a specific "box" which was always frustrating. Truthfully you wondered if you would ever be happy with a specific label or gender. For now though you decided not to stress about a label, after all it's just a word at the end of the day.

You had clothes for every emotion, feminine great you had clothes for that, male? Easily you'd whip out the flannel jackets and baggy trousers and in between those? Easy you could mix and match until you found the right outfit for you that day. Sometimes it would feel like every outfit you tried didn't work. You still felt wrong. And on those days your stunning girlfriend would come and hold you. Kisses being pressed anywhere she could reach while she showered you with love, praise and comforting words.

One thing that remains constant is you would wear your binder. Safely of course, you knew the rules and had done extensive research to ensure you were binding safely and correctly. Larissa would also help you by paying attention to how long you were binding for and supporting you through the whole experience. Honestly you couldn't believe just how lucky you had been the day she asked you to be hers. The reason binding was a constant feature for you is that it made you feel comfortable. You hated the thought of your chest not at least being smaller than you were born with. Binding gave that release and look you truly desired. So you hadn't actually been around anyone without binding. Larissa had respected that boundary and always left the lights off or turned away until you were happy for her to see you.

She'd done this for months now, you knew you could trust her, she wouldn't say or do anything that made you uncomfortable and you knew that for a fact. That's why tonight you were determined to push past this routine and allow her to see all of you. Yes the binder didn't change you, but there was something about showing her, something special and that's what made you really want to do it. You were ready and you knew you were safe with her.

The plan was to go and change before her, tell her you were ready and let her just see you. Yet when the plan had been set in motion the nervous bubbled up to the surface. This shouldn't be so hard. Ultimately it was now or never. So you pushed through that and continued with the plan. Your voice wavered as you called her into the room. Sat on the bed topless and exposed while your fingers shook in your lap. You heard the gasp and tears prickled in your eyes. Shit! She didn't like it. Tears flowed freely as you moved to cover yourself.

"Darling? I'm so so sorry I thought you had finished and that's why you called me. Im so sorry I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable my love please forgive me" she hurried out coming closer to you. Wait what? She didn't? That was confusing. You whimpered out "I wanted to show you" as you sucked a shaky breath in between each word. "My darling, you did? That's great love I just want you to know I think you're stunning. Binder or no binder" she reassured gathering you in her arms, you twisted your body to hide your chest knowing she had seen it. The words causing tears to stream now. Larissa always made you feel like you were amazing in every way. And this was no exception.

Sensing you were feeling uncomfortable Larissa offered you your shirt which you took mumbling a thank you and put it on, before settling in her arms on the bed. Whispers of praise love and gratitude were cocooning you as you listened to the beating of her heart. Although you didn't feel you fit in a label or box, here in her arms you felt the happiest you ever could be.

Word count~ 880

[soullikethesea]

I really needed to journal. Wrote five pages!

There's so much to process. I decided that I *will* actually do the tantra workshop. 😱 It's mostly about getting to know yourself and learning to feel what you want/do not want and express that to another person. It seems like something I need if I to develop further as a person/adult, but it is certainly tricky and it's hard to tell whether it is already the right time for something like this. I mean, I struggled a TON with the haptotherapy. I think that was maybe also the setting... alone, isolated. And the therapist I tried was a guy. I made sure to sign up for an all-women's day for the workshop. I'm quite certain that being around men would give me Bf flashbacks.

So there's that... I read the first book of Heartstopper as well and I cried so much. Fox's pain. Not being accepted... ouchie ouch.

It makes me think of that time when I was around 12 and a random boy punched me in the street. I was with my friend and he was with a friend as well. My friend exclaimed: "She's a girl!" and he stopped. Said he'd mistaken me for a brother of someone he knew... it seemed fake - it was probably a dare or something like that. But yeah, it felt so strange to be punched by a random person. I was quite shocked that being more like myself had this effect. During that time I felt unsafe in general from the bullying and the stuff at home as well. I was growing into a different stage in life: now free to leave the house alone, go for runs in the park.

It was painful to be around most other children. I basically only had that one friend, who later turned out to be a trans guy, btw. I wasn't sure if I was gay, I didn't really want anything to do with girls my age and that made me doubt that idea. (They were mostly mean girls). I liked being with a guy while being perceived as a guy, but not as a girl. Most people thought I was a boy during that time.

Later I felt like I had to surrender to becoming more feminine, because I'd never heard of binders and yeah... my face and my hips were more obviously female. I developed really bad posture trying to hide my chest. But other than that I felt like there wasn't much I could do to feel more comfortable. At some point I remember asking in a bra shop if I could at least get a bra where it seemed like I just had one boob bump in my shirt instead of two. Kind of a funny/weird question. Turns out that it is something that hinges on wearing tighter shirts...

Anyway, so later on I started to feel more comfortable as a woman. It really started feeling like that once I started sports. I love what my body can do & I love to be strong. It helps me be more at peace. I don't look androgynous, but it makes me feel more like it. More comfortable.

So, now I'm trying to coax Fox into feeling the comfort as well. I know it's more tolerable for him now that we have broad shoulders. We can be a woman in our own way.

And I always felt like I was a strange girl, but I think I was a pretty average gay girl. A nerdy one, obsessed with imaginative play and nature. But yeah. How some girls are - aside from the mean girl types - and, I guess, how some gay girls are.

[possibilistfanfiction]

hi i just wanted to say thank you for writing about queerness the way that you do - it’s incredible and has been immensely helpful to me lately. like i’ve agonized over wanting a haircut and a binder and to change my pronouns and have never had the courage to do anything about it, but reading your stuff is making me want to go through with it all. i had to pause a few times as i read your most recent piece (ava’s pov of butch bea) because i was overwhelmed with relief seeing ava and bea want that stuff too. i didn’t realize wanting it could feel so freeing. like i’ve never seen queer people written like that before, and never knew i needed to see it until now. it’s helped me feel okay about wanting the aforementioned things, and also okay about not knowing what i want or how i want to be. all around your fics are so healing and enlightening as far as gender and sexuality go, and gender and sexuality aside they are also flat out masterpieces. i cannot even begin to describe how much they, as well as your other posts on the subject, mean to me. thank you so much

:) thank u!

& i will say that i have spent the better part of the last 15 or so years just vibrating around trying to figure out what makes me feel good, especially in my body & how others perceive it. which is really hard! but trying stuff rocks — i figured out i wanted top surgery but not to transition in other medical ways bc i got a binder! the peace i felt with one felt right, & then i got to explore from there. i have had … so many haircuts lol & most of them have been good! (imo everyone deserves to buzz their hair at least once & just. deal with it lmao. a rite of passage.) now i don’t give a fuck about “what side of the store” clothes are on bc i know exactly what i want clothes to fit & feel like, & i have a tailor, so i just pay more attention to fit & fabric than i do any “men’s” or “women’s” demarcations, especially when most of the places i shop are mostly just vaguely androgynous earth tones anyway lol.

(of course this is with the caveat that there’s enough safety/financial stability but) try everything! especially stuff that’s not at all permanent!

there’s no way i would know what makes me happy & peaceful now if i didn’t try stuff in the past! do i want to wear button downs & chinos & have ppl call me sir?? no i would rather pErish. but did i always know that! of course not, & i got to have the space to try how that would feel. i definitely also know that i never want people to think i’m straight (lol but ppl are stubborn); i had a weird summer bc my hair was rly long, which i loved, but then started to feel just dissonant about… occasionally a little panicked by? (in addition to some transphobic nonsense thru work, which ofc doesn’t help). but once i sat down & was like what the fuck is going on — & felt safe enough to just sit for DAYS in dysphoria to try to figure out the root of it — i was like oh ok cool, easy, i can fix this. i knew i didn’t want to cut my hair rly short again (probably never again or at least for a Long Time, i don’t like ppl thinking i’m a man), but i didn’t wanna keep it long, so i was like ok great, stupid masc bob here we come, & my hairstylist is queer & has a soft butch wife, so i was set lol. but without getting to have space for the past decade to just try things, & to learn how to sit in dysphoria thru therapy rather than just Run Away from the feeling every time, that would’ve been a lot harder to navigate. i used to be VERY adamant abt they/them pronouns but i don’t feel that way anymore, & nothing earth shattering happened or has happened, i just… don’t care. i care more abt my privacy & agency than abt disclosing identity & experience than i do a pronoun, & so i get to make that choice whenever i want, which has been rly wonderful. & getting to try things will help you learn where ur most comfortable, especially as u continue to grow & change.

& like… it’s fun! queerness is so fun! i think beas queerness is fairly ~fraught~ canonically for obvious reasons but in any universe it’s nice to just let her take a fucking breath. kiss a girl, put on a hoodie, cut your hair, take a nap by the beach. it’s not so serious, not all the time. & ava is just FUN, her queerness is so so bright. to me it’s always just seemed like she was never Not queer bc ava has so much life to live & so so much to discover abt herself & the world. she’s falling in love with everything all the time, & with Wonder! & of course that includes queerness! it’s at the center of it bc it’s who you are & who you love, but it’s also just… people, & connection. i used to write rly angsty shit abt being queer & in moments of indulgence i do still enjoy a romp ofc to flex those wow sin & hell & an orgasm being so holy muscles lol, but queerness is my everyday life, & it shows up in the soft happy places more than anywhere else.

anyway, try everything!! especially a binder (bind safely!!!!!) & pronouns, even just online or w a few of ur ppl. if there’s a word you like for your identity, try writing it somewhere or just telling a friend (i texted my best friend that i liked the word ‘dyke’ a lot after having made ‘dyke on main’ jokes abt myself for ten years … we both just laughed). & of course haircuts & clothes are so fun, & they should get to be fun!

but even beyond that (& part of why i think ppl like reading stuff i write, maybe?) is that like so much healing for me in pleasure & peace in my queerness is so tied up in those same feelings abt … everything. food! sex! moving my body! my home! small acts of service! luxury! softness! skincare! the ocean! like whew, waking up & being like this brings me quiet joy, mary oliver was RIGHT, just lets the whole world kinda shimmer. not loudly, not in any remarkable way, but eating good food & having a good beer with someone who sees you for who you are; fresh flowers in the vase; LINEN PANTS; the dog asleep at your feet — all of those things to me are both queer & holy, inextricably together in my life. my wife’s queerness is very compatible w her religion & spirituality, & that’s rly rly beautiful to get to be around. queerness is abt deep care, too, in small ways: checking up on a friend after top surgery, still masking indoors, keeping my dog on lead unless i know her recall will be perfect. it shapes every part of my life. to me the mundane is the most glorious thing, & i have figured things that i love bc, for as scary as trying stuff can be (what if people see me? what if i hate it?) — you know, the most important question: what if you love it?

[fefairys]

gender ramble 😌😌

i feel like my childhood gender experience differs SOOOO vastly from like 90% of transmascs cause i always see people saying that puberty is when the dysphoria really hit because they started growing boobs and getting a period and stuff but man i was 100 percent looking forward to all that stuff i was SO excited when i got my first bra like seeing myself in the mirror with a padded bra made me almost as happy as seeing myself in the mirror with a binder for the first time. i guess it is the genderfluidity lol i am so everywhere. because i was so GIRL about a lot of things like i wanted to wear MAKEUP and BRAS and have long beautiful hair but i also preferred wearing my brothers hand me downs over Girly Clothes. like i always wanted to wear "boy clothes" in a girl body with girl mannerisms and being seen as a girl. hm. much to think about and i am kind of still like this, i mean im always in a constant struggle of should i cut my hair or let it grow out because i like it both ways.. i prefer it more in the middle now so it can be whatever. boygirling it.. i like just doing whatever i want forever. its so fun. i see my gender as ftmtftmtftmtftmtf forever repeating. but also at the same time its just null, not female or male but nothing. but also female and male at the same time and also sometimes taking turns between the two. wheeee!!!!

anyways my original point was like idk it was weird because i never had physical dysphoria growing up, that really didnt hit until recently and has more to do with my skin condition than anything else tbh. like i would feel better abt my boobs if they werent covered in scars and open sores lol. but like i remember finding so much joy in being a girl growing up and probably because i looked up so much to my mom and sibling (sister at the time. and now we have like VERY similar gender things going on individually as well its pretty awesome) the only time i ever felt "bad" as a kid was when girls my age would be like "why are you wearing BOY clothes ur a GIRL!!!" and id be like "ummm its just clothes this is just what im comfortable in im still a girl!" like it just made me mad that ppl gendered clothing so heavily. i was a girl but wore whatever i wanted? which sometimes included girly clothes, but i always found them physically uncomfortable. i still feel that way like i will feel sooooooo cute in some girly dress or blouse but its always itchy or weirdly tight or whatever and its always more comfy to just wear a tshirt

blah blahblahblahbalhb idk im just writing a diary entry at this point. im done good bye

[gednerbedner]

2am rant time. Sorry if it doesn't really make sense.

I don't like to wear my skirts as much as I used to, and it's bugging me.

I was a tomboy for a long time growing up. Shirts and jeans. Didn't get my ears pierced until I was 15 cause I was scared it would hurt. Never liked makeup cause it felt weird going on, and I was scared my eyes would get poked, and lipstick is sticky and horrible, and oh gods don't get me started on washing the makeup off afterwards.

And then I got a little older. It was junior year of high school and covid before I actually got into that stuff. I realized I liked edgy plaid skirts. Makeup can be fun when you actually learn to do it right. I feel more confident if I have eyeliner.

But then, the past year or so. I'd been doing makeup consistently for about three-quarters of my first term at college, but then it got cold. The eczema kicked in in ways I'd never seen before, and I had to stop doing so much makeup. I even got a pretty bad eye infection from pushing it too hard. Luckily I've learned how to handle it for this year, but I still have to be careful to stay on top of my routine and not to overdo the makeup.

Then the clothes. I still liked my skirts, but I got my hands on a flannel and started feeling more butch in it. And sometimes I'd tuck my hair in it, and it would look shorter, and I'd kind of like that. And I started feeling less like wearing my skirts.

I think it was winter break that it started it really started to hit me. I started wearing a lot more jeans and shorts. I started really thinking about it, though I was too scared to say anything.

Fast-forward to now. (On a side note I'm considering reposting a couple of my Gender™��� posts from my old diary account on here, since I don't really use that one anymore. They're not really relevant to now though.) I've more or less settled on calling myself genderfluid, if only to one or two people. I'm like half-out to a handful of my friends, I'm out to my girlfriend, but that's it. And most of the time, that's fine. I wear what I'm comfortable in, and it doesn't usually bother me too much.

But I have started to realize that what I'm comfortable in, and what motivates me to do the laundry when I have to wear it, have changed. I really only wear my skirts for parties or for character performances. And that's a little bittersweet to me.

I know that guys can wear skirts as much as girls can wear pants, and that I'm in a very queer space right now anyways and I shouldn't worry about it. But it feels bad when I try to on a day I'm not feeling it. I do my laundry a lot more frequently, so that I don't have to wear my skirts. And it's confusing to me, because they were very much a good thing for me a couple of years ago. Starting to wear them was when I started actually feeling pretty.

I think it's worse because I really don't want to do much actual transitioning. My name is pretty neutral, so while I have a couple of nicknames and my name I use online, I'm probably not changing it any time soon. I like my body parts, so I'm not looking for any kind of surgery. And I hate both sweat and body hair way too much to actually want testosterone. About the biggest change I've really considered beyond some pronoun adjustments and getting a binder is cutting my hair. And I have family who I'm dependent on who would have a shit fit if I did, so that one is going to have to wait a while.

But with me not wanting to do a lot of "transition"-y things, I think it makes the little things that would normally slot into the grey areas of my gender feel harder to ignore. My skirts feel girly, and I don't want to feel girly most of the time right now. And yet, I still miss them. I remember feeling really cute in them for a couple of years, and in a way, I think they were the first thing I really enjoyed that was heavily gendered. My first source of gender euphoria now feels almost dysphoric. It's confusing, and frustrating.

I'm not sure exactly where I'm going with this. But yeah. As much as I'm happy to be feeling out the more masc sides of my gender and getting comfy there, I miss when I enjoyed my skirts.

[actuallyvady]

Every so often I make the joke that every piece of art or fic where kim is trans adds a year to my life but the reality is way more complicated and personal than that?

I have had a complicated relationship with my body for a long time. I think most trans people do, though each person experiences it differently. I'm lucky, in a lot of ways! My breasts are too small to need a bra or binder, and my features are generally androgynous; in most ways, dysphoria hasn't been terrible. Which is probably why it took so long to decide I wanted to transition. But there's one thing that has bothered me a lot for a long time: my genitals.

It's weird to talk about it. I hate even typing that word. Because I have hated that part of my body for so long. I didn't want to look at myself, I didn't want to touch myself any more than necessary-- I don't do tampons because it bothers me. I never really masturbated much. The worst part, though, is that I get the most pleasure from penetration-- I can have a clitoral orgasm without it, but I don't like it near as much.

When I thought I was a straight woman that was... fine. Straight men are bad at foreplay but they can usually manage what actually gets me off. I didn't really want them paying much attention to that part of me anyway-- oral always made me incredibly uncomfortable.

Then I started to realize I was not a woman. At first it was identifying as nonbinary, in various ways. But it came back, almost every time, to wishing I had a dick. Sometimes I wanted both, sometimes I wanted to just wave a magic wand and be entirely a cis man. I had the deeply frustrating experience of recognizing that I wanted to masturbate but didn't have the body to do what I actually wanted. The fact that I could only satisfy my arousal with penetration was much worse once I recognized that.

I started having relationships and sexual encounters with people that were not straight men, which meant that sex did not look the same anymore... and for years I just. Didn't bother with my own pleasure. I had plenty of fun! I very much enjoy getting my partner(s) off, in various ways. But I never let them return the favor. I almost never took off my underwear, even. It would ruin the moment, for me, because what I had was not what I wanted to have.

Recently I started thinking seriously about transitioning, and the question of whether I would want phalloplasty came back. After all, what I wanted was a dick, right? When I first started researching transition, like eight years ago, that was the first thing I looked into. I didn't really want the things that T would do (or so I thought, for years) but I wanted that.

And then I found Disco Elysium. And Kim Kitsuragi.

I feel personally called out by his existence for a lot of reasons. I won't go into most of it here. But one of the big ones is that he isn't a pretty anime boy, or otherwise especially conventionally attractive. He's older, he wears glasses, he's got a receding hairline. And suddenly I felt very okay with some of the aspects of transitioning that had made me hesitate before. Did I want body hair? What if I hated my voice? What if I lost my hair? The existence of Kim made all of that okay. He's the reason I'm on T now.

And then I started seeing trans Kim fanart. Not just fanart-- smutty fanart. And fanfic! Trans!Kim, with the genitals I have always had complicated feelings about, being portrayed as an attractive, sexual man. Trans!Kim enjoying having penetrative, vaginal sex. Trans!Kim being comfortable with and enjoying his body. Trans!Kim being masculine and horny and sexually desirable. There was a whole day I spent dissociating and looking at every bit of art and fic I could find. I genuinely felt like I was drunk or high.

And all of a sudden I found myself... feeling better about my body. I'll masturbate, now, just because I can, and enjoy it. I let my lover actually see all of me, and touch me, and get me off. I don't even really feel that need to have a dick anymore. Sure, if I could wave a magic wand I would do so but all the surgeries? It doesn't feel necessary anymore.

And that's because of trans!Kim.

That's why I say y'all are adding years to my life.

[fagb33tle]

I'm obsessed with this show and need more content so even though I never post my fanart I felt like this was going to a good cause. 

I really loved the new season, especially the wrestling episode, and just had to draw our boy in his thunder lizard outfit. Also Bogs is my favorite couple so I had to draw Logs a bunch too. 

Sorry for the angst, I know one of the best parts about this show is how it doesn't do the trans self loathing arc, but I love me some trans themed hurt/comfort so I indulged anyway.

side note: I don't think Barney has taken his binder off since he ran away from home. Homie wears it to bathe and sleep. And he’s exercising in it! Barney take off your fucking binder challenge. 

[your-beauty-never-scared-me]

let's talk about my gender

For a very long time, I've had a difficult time discerning whether or not I am trans. I guess we can start from the beginning. I was assigned female at birth. I was honestly fine with being a little girl. I was chill with whatever clothes people put me in. When I was eight or so I thought boys clothes were cool too and liked wearing ties like my dad. I also really wanted to join the military. I wouldn't say I definitively wanted to be a boy as a child because I remember loving the idea of makeup and dressing up, but I feel like it kind of went both ways. One distinct memory I have is telling my dad people would think I was a boy in the clothes I was wearing, but I was excited about it. Take that as you will.

I hit puberty when I was 10 and I absolutely hated it. Obviously periods were the worst of it. But this is where things get complicated for me. I can't tell if I really have or had true gender dysphoria, or if I just really hate/hated being sexualized. Even if I can't say anything definitively about my gender identity, I can definitely say that I've always been incredibly modest and have never felt comfortable showing off my body or trying to look "sexy". Not because I hate my body, I just feel a lot more comfortable when I'm covered up. Unfortunately, society inherently sexualizes the female body, which I realized, and it made me want to crawl out of my skin.

Another factor in all of this is that I was objectively ugly. Baggy masculine clothes made me an even uglier girl, whereas feminine clothes and makeup made me look like i was at least trying not to be ugly. People are nicer to people who they find attractive. It's science. But I knew that even before I knew it was science. I didn't, and still don't, care about how I'm perceived as long as people think I'm attractive. Femininity is something I wear so that people will like me and be nice to me. I think in a way it always has been. I don't necessarily feel comfortable in the makeup and women's clothing, but it makes people perceive me in a better light so I do it anyway.

I also started identifying as non-binary as young as 12. My friend told my about the label and I felt like it was a good descriptor for how I felt. I picked out a new name and everything.

There are two more things I want to discuss in regards to my possible trans-ness

Toxic masculinity.

People don't take women seriously. Especially tiny 5'0 women who are soft spoken. I think part of me hating my femininity is that I feel like I have no power, and that people don't listen to me. Not only me, but other women as well.

2. Sexual abuse

This is hard to talk about, bear with me. I already expressed how much I value my modesty and hate being sexualized. But I was 13 the first time an adult man did something inappropriate to me and it made me hate my new body. This basically continued until I was 18 and moved out.

Side note, if a single one of you asks why I didn't do anything about it or fight back or whatever, I'll rip your eyes out through your computer screen.

Anyway, I often question my transness because it's like... Do I really hate being a woman or do I just hate the things that have been done to me as the result of the oversexualization of the female body? It's a difficult thing to consider.

3. My partner is transfem.

I tend to try to fit in to what the people I love are like. I tend to mimic. In one of my past relationships, I basically convinced myself that I'd be happy as a housewife because that's what he wanted. When I entered this relationship (with my current, transfem partner), I had basically submitted to "okay, I'm just going to be a girl now, they like girls, I don't want to complicate things anymore, I'm a girl". As I got more comfortable in the relationship, I opened up about the fact that I had identified as nonbinary when I was in college and that I owned a binder and all that. Eventually that led to me being openly nonbinary in our friend group. And that's comfortable for me. But I'm worried that I'm just thinking about being trans because they are, and that I wouldn't be having this conversation with myself at all if they were cis.

Another caveat if I did potentially come out is that I wouldn't want my partner or our friend group to think that I'm just doing it to copy them or make them like me more. So I guess either way if I do come out or start HRT I would definitely wait to do it.

I am going to condense this essay into a pros and cons style list for TLDR's sake.

Reasons why I think I could be trans

I don't have an inherit attraction to the feminine aside from wanting to be perceived as an attractive and likeable person

Never hated my more masculine features like body and facial hair

I don't actually like looking like a girl

I HATE my voice

I like how I look with my binder on

I've never really resonated with the "wife and mother" thing (although there are plenty of cis women who don't either)

Despite the fact that I hate a lot of other men and a lot of things about male culture, I still kinda want to be one anyway.

Reasons why I think I might not be trans

maybe I just want the authority that men have and to be taken seriously

I like makeup and nails

I don't really have bottom dysphoria?

Maybe I just want to escape being sexualized and the things that happened to me

There's a lot to consider. There's a lot that complicated. But everything takes time, and with time I'm sure I'll sort my gender out. Or maybe I won't and I'll still be happy regardless because I am alive and life is pretty good, all things considered.

either way, I hope you have a good day.

And if you're trans or questioning, I hope you have an extra good day.

[ethernetmeep]

the most terrifying thing after seeing an artists work is the absence of anything; nothing.

if a work makes you angry, albeit a negative emotion, it at least makes you feel. paranoia? an emotion! fear? interesting! however, life being unaltered, unaffected by god knows how many hours and days of constant work, is a nightmare.

in a way, i’ve always viewed the simple perception of a work without any verbal input as too being a nightmare; i assume, based on expressions and silent nature, the work has more or less simply been shapes and colors another person sees, simply a… nothing burger, as some would humorously call it.

i realize what it is like to live in this reality, and it’s excruciating. even if i were, how do i put this, quieter than i am, i would still wish to evaporate this worry or fear; anything, even a nod. the fear of the unknown is something i wish to quell in any way i can.

so, when you’re put into the known, what is there to do? what do you do?

it depends on who you are. if you’re my friend, you have your mouth go agape and make a shocked noise above the grass; undoubtedly exaggerated.

however, i am not my friend; nor am i what is expected of me.

at first, i seem to be static; i look to be feeling nothing, the worst nightmare for an artist showcasing and pouring their art out. hypocritical, if i say i wish to never be perceived as feeling nothing and end up looking exactly so. even if not physically there, the perception can definitely be felt. unaffected, uncaring.

of course, the façade breaks; not like i was meaning to hold one, anyway. unexpectedly, a smile & one of those shaking of heads expressions someone may do at times comes about from my body. it is something not many people see— if they did, they wouldn’t get it.

it isn’t any verbal words; i realize that whilst looking back. the memories with most fondness & most sincerity tend to be the ones where i keep quiet.

even now, god forbid as i mutter what im typing— bad habit, after writing so many of these— i don’t say much aloud.

im still wearing what i wore, pale green tie which doesn’t match a vibrant shirt & mismatched socks, not even going to stop and change after i got home to write about the event. the words.. god, you’re gonna make me say this? okay, fine.

the words ‘I THINK YOU DID GREAT’ are scribbled on note pad paper; i believe i will crumple this paper up into a ball. no, thats violent. i will neatly fold the paper and stuff it in a drawer. the reason why is this, reader, yes, you, reader;

nothing i say, including those short five words, will truly encapsulate how intricate and genuinely captivating the pieces i saw were; that’s then when i realize the meaning, and even more so my hypocrisy.

sometimes.. sometimes you feel something unable to be articulated. sometimes, that presumed nothing is a whole lot of something, just left internal. sometimes, you don’t know how to articulate things.

i mean.. i already knew this, but i didn’t take it in as thoroughly. now here i am, doing just that, even if i have other things to do.

i should get into comfortable clothes; i have been in this state for an hour. i have been in a binder which inevitably has rose up my body and made me feel like a noose is around my shoulders. i should shut up. no, really, i should actually stop fucking writing. i should do something important. i should, i shouldn’t, i should, i shouldn’t, i might, i could’ve:

however, i am not.

i am here, writing and trying to articulate something which i don’t even fully know. the best i can do is try, i suppose.

i still don’t know what im doing.