#gives every boy long hair for transgender reasons

[potatobugz]

south park but they are like teen agers (warning: scarey warning: frightening)

[i-am-a-l0st-gh0st]

This one is inspired a bit by one of my ocs backstory but..

The reader is a transmasc person, who tries their best to hide it, trying to seem as if they were a cis man - mostly due to the overwhelming dysphoria they get. Sure, they got the top surgery but... Not the bottom one. The biggest issue was - they were having terrible periods, and I mean TERRIBLE - To the point they can't stand up from the bed, squirm in pain and vomit anytime they move. While they were able to hide it from lyney long enough, saying stuff like "I ate something bad" and other stupid excuses, lyney got clearly very worried and concerned as the same thing happened each month, even when the reader didn't seem to even eat anything close to bad. Now, the reader doesn't know how to avoid the truth, as they're crying from the immerse pain, unable to hide their misery from lyney any longer.

Boys don't cry- Lyney X transmasc!reader

I would say i'm sorry, if thought that it would change your mind. t/w- periods, vomit, headaches, cramps, dysphoria summary- As shown above

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You'd been together for almost 5 months and each month you'd managed to avoid telling Lyney you were trans but for how long? Avoiding it forever was out of the question, you couldn't keep getting you period and telling him you were sick.

The only thing you could concentrate on was the unbearable feeling of needing to be sick. If you stood up you might puke everywhere... And the cramps didn't make it any better... You clutched you stomach trying to make them go away... If only that worked... Your train of thought was lost as your boyfriend walked into the room.

"Dear... This happens every month... I know for a fact it's not food poisoning. Your my boyfriend... I need to know what's wrong with you."

*Boyfriend*. You loved being called that but for some reason it stung... Tears began to form in your eyes, emotions all over the place. Lyney was shocked to see you so emotional. He hugged you tightly, rubbing your hair, bringing you close. He wanted to help... But you couldn't tell him... He would think differently of you... He would see as what you were before you were a boy.

"I'm fine Lyney, just a little sick."

"A little sick? Sweetie you can't get out of bed. I need to know what's up with you."

Lyney was stubborn... Almost as stubborn as you, he wouldn't give up. Not until you were feeling better. The cramps slowly started to get worse, causing tears to well up in your eyes. You tried to turn away from Lyney hiding your face. In response he grabbed you chin forcing you to look at him.

"Mon amour... what's wrong." His face had lost its charm and had turned, not stone cold but almost there.

"Lyney... I...I.."

"Take your time sweetie."

You couldn't tell him, he would see you as girl. You worked so hard to build a life a male. It was all going to crumble now... You felt your cheeks heat up with the feeling of vomit... You quickly got up and ran to the bathroom pushing Lyney out of the way. Knuckles turned white as you gripped he toilet bowl waiting for it to happen.

"Sweetheart! What's wrong!" Lyneys voice had become increasingly worried.

You couldn't avoid the truth any longer... It was right in front of him. He'd have to find out sooner or later.

"Lyney... I'm trans..transgender. I.. I've only gotten top surgery not bottom. So I still get my... Period."

"So that was it? Honey I still love you. You know I don't see you as any less of a man. If anything I see you as more of one. What you go through sounds painful..." His voice had calmed down now. "But why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I was scared you'd leave me.. and this dysphoria gets really bad."

"Oh mon amour... I would never leave you... Now let me take care of you."

Lyney grabbed you hand leading you back into bed, he grabbed you a heat pack placing it on your stomach. He put a bucket close to your bed, just incase you needed it.

"Anything else?" You swear you couldn't love this man anymore.

"Cuddles?'

"Anything for you, my love."

Taglist

@pandragonsoul @atsukawolfcat @keeyisbored

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Hey!! Could you make Eddie fall in love with a short, transgender boy who is a highly judged hippie because of his style and calm way of talking? :]

Hi! I'll do my best!

Eddie Munson x Trans!Male Reader

Send me request here! Currently writing for Eddie Munson. I write for a variety of reader inserts (male, female, gender neutral, POC too).

The more details you had to your request, the better it is for me. EX: "What about some fluff for Eddie after he's had a long day?"

Feel free to look through my masterlist here!

__________________________

Eddie doesn't even need to go into the pharmacy if he's honest. He's not sick. Wayne's not. But Eddie waltzes into the place, by passing the displays of makeup, and sunscreen and ducks behind the slightly higher than chest high aisle of supplements. A few feet behind the aisle, past the condoms, feminine hygiene products, and diapers sits the checkout counter.

And just behind the counter--the stacks of boxes nearly swallowing you whole, and hair following to shoulders--is the real reason Eddie is here. It's ridiculous really. Eddie feels like some school girl, trying to hide his blush and gaze. He picks up a bottle, the pills rattling inside at the action and Eddie watches you grab a box from the pile on the counter next to you and hitch it onto your hip.

The store is relatively empty. A few people are behind Eddie at the pharmacy window to pick up prescriptions but no one's just shopping the aisle. And it doesn't shock Eddie that no one is. It's 3:30 PM on a Tuesday afternoon. Most adults are still not off from work and the schools have just let out. But Eddie is here, not really reading the ingredients of the back of some supplement bottle to see if he can work up the nerve to talk to you.

It's not like it would hard. You're nice, approachable in ways that others may be annoyed by, but you're always thoughtful in your responses. Eddie first noticed you in his second attempt at second year mostly in glances and in passing. The two of you occupied vastly differing social spheres and as much as Eddie fronts about conforming, he needed a social pack that wouldn't shun him. Not satisifed by what he noticed he created his own and it came a particular brand.

Which is not to say that Eddie scared you off or wanted to scare you off, it was just that the pressure of high schools still seemed more important in terms of suriving. But six months ago, in the height of the summer, Eddie ran into this pharmacy for a quick soda and extra bandaids. And that's when he noticed how you smiled gently at everyone and he noticed how much when you spoke, it soothed him and made his heart flutter. He'd since been trying to find any and every reason to come into the store without it seeming excessive.

"I didn't take you as a health conscious being," you laugh. The words are soft and carrying the air of a pause between each of them.

Eddie snaps his head over at you, slightly lost in a different realm of existence. He read Vitamin C and spaced a little trying to think about making it look convincing that he might be overselling the surprise. Eddie laughs, "Folks keep warning me smoking's going to kill me one day so maybe I'm trying to slow it down."

You nod. "Only way to do that for good is to give up the smokes."

Eddie shrugs. "You're probably right."

"We've got nicotine gum on aisle 7. Unfortunately, this is not a grocery store, so no cold turkeys."

It's a terrible pun. You knew that when you made it, but Eddie's grin is bright. It makes your heart flutter and have to be careful that it doesn't flutter too much given the bandages around your chest. Now speaking of chest, you shift the box to your front hoping it helps with the pressure too.

Eddie's snort is fast and hard. "You really should be ashamed of--"

"Do you have to work as slow as you talk? I'd like to check out please."

You nod at the customer behind Eddie. He doesn't look to see who it is out fear he might walk out of here in handcuffs with sore knuckles. "I'll be happy to assist right after I finish with my first customer." It is practiced and measured response from the months that you've been working here.

The being huffs behind Eddie and he risks a quick glimpse over his shoulder--Mrs. Dobrzynski. She's always had a snippy attitude. "I didn't mean to be in the way," Eddie starts. "I'm sorry."

"No," you return evenly. "You have nothing to apologize for. If it's okay, I'll handle her and then back. Feel free to peruse all our wares."

Eddie gives a nod, watching you return to the counter. The checkout only takes a couple of minutes to ring up the handful of makeup items she has and she huffs the entire time as you check her out. Her heels click harshly before she ducks back out into the harsh and bitter winter winds.

Eddie watches you approach, bottle of supplements still in hand that he has no intention of buying at all. But he can't seem to put them back as he watches over you face. It's not as soft as it once was, but just behind that too Eddie feels the edge of excitement. "Did you cut your hair?" he asks.

You smile just a little, hearing the genuineness to his tone and the smile painting his lips helps too. "I did."

"I like it. Makes you look even more handsome." Eddie offers the last part softly. He's noticed. Though he doesn't know a lot. He's noticed the way you've made it clear to those you care to pay attention.

You didn't anticipate Eddie to catch on, but when he utters handsome you think for the first time you're glad you don't have to fully say it. "Thank-thank you."

"Do-" Eddie stops the sentence, kicking the toe of his sneaker into the floor. He looks at you, down a few inches due to the height difference. "Would you like to go out sometime?"

"What-what do you have in mind?" Your voice is softer than normal and Eddie thinks it might be a good sign that you asked about specifics rather than the joyful yes he was anticipating.

"I know the arcade is probably lame, but there and then a movie? Or wherever is going to make you feel the most comfortable."

"No, the arcade and a movie sounds nice. I'd like that." There's the pauses again--the way the sentence falls smoothly from your lips and Eddie's grateful for the sound to ease the thundering of his heart. You can feel the sweat now pooling and you can't tell if it's the binding or the heat of slight embarrassment warming your body.

Eddie smiles. "When are you free?"

"Thursday is my day off. I can meet you at the arcade say 5?"

Eddie would like to pick you up, treat you like a gentleman should, but he nods. "5 sounds good. It's-it's all on me."

"I'm a working man, c'mon. Don't underestimate me," you laugh.

"I don't think I am, actually. Just--want to treat you right," it comes out softly and nowhere as smooth as Eddie would like it to be.

"You do," you return simply. "You already do."

Eddie, as he walks out of the store, fists pumps proud of himself for not making a complete fool out of himself. That is until he catches some laughter and he spins to spot you, work shirt traded in now for a winter coat. A backpack strap is clear over the brown coat. "You didn't see that," Eddie warns.

You hold up your hands. "I didn't see anything. See you Thursday."

"Thursday," he grins. Eddie watches you back out of the spot and start onto the street, chest still filling with pride. He prays that Thursday comes quick.

[cumbunnywitch]

For the record, I am a trans woman. I've been going off about it for a little bit but the use of TMA/TME to identify masc-aligned AFAB people is actually pretty shitty and you shouldn't do it. If you think you're doing it in good faith, I have good news for you: You're not actually an asshole yet. Let me explain beneath the Keep Reading(it's gonna be a long one folks).

TMA/TME is meant to be an identifier for people who are "Affected" by Transmisogyny. Now that looks really dang simple on the surface, believe me it does. Let me tell you where it gets complicated.

Transmisogyny is the intersection of being a transgender woman and experiencing misogyny. This is the easy part.

TMA/TME isn't intersectional.

The use of TMA/TMA has lead to a notable increase in the divide between feminine and masculine aligned trans folk.

This distinction is not only too vague, but entirely unhelpful.

Number 1: Every trans person can be affected by every kind of misogyny and misandry. Yes, Misandry is a real thing, it's a word that exists in the dictionary and everything.

Let me give you an example. A TERF might say that a trans man is "just a confused girl". This is actually Misogyny, because the subject that the TERF is basing their belief on is the person having been born female. A TERF might also say "that trans man is going to kill a woman because all that raging testosterone and becoming aligned with men!" This is misandry (this has also been coined transandrophobia) because the TERF is basing their belief on the person transitioning and taking hormones.

So, now do we see? We can do the same with trans women, too. Allow me: "That trans woman is a groomer who wants to turn kids gay." The subject is feminine, and the transness is treated as the problem. Another! "That girly boy is wearing a skirt again, someone should tell him how gay he looks." The subject again is a trans woman, but is being treated as a man. This is misandry.

So, we can see now that the focal point of all this is actually the intent of the transphobe. See, they don't actually care about being right, they care about whatever delusion they've paid into. While it's important to identify transphobia, we can all be affected by it in varied ways that don't actually matter.

Number 2: TMA/TME isn't intersectional. Intersectionality is an analytical framework for understanding how a person's various social and political identities combine to create different modes of discrimination and privilege. Intersectionality identifies multiple factors of advantage and disadvantage.

What the fuck does that even mean, you may be asking. Well, I'll tell you. Basically, every single part of who you are, where you came from, how rich or poor you were, both in wealth and social mobility, race, ethnicity, sex, sexuality, gender, hair color eye color ayyy macarena all lead in to how privileged you are, in terms of a feminist progressive analysis. Basically, "being intersectional" isn't even really a thing? It's just a buzzword people mistakenly throw around when they actually mean inclusive.

If they do mean intersectional, then they are specifically referring to identifying oppression that a person may experience due to - and this is really important - every single part of their background. A trans woman can experience all kinds of oppression and violence, for a multitude of reasons. A trans man can experience very similar kinds of oppression. There are no single words, no matter how many prefixes and suffixes you butcher to get it to look pretty, it's not worth the scrabble points to try and nail down a single comment by transphobes as being one hyper-specific thing.

Number 3: This is the big one, and the reason I'm making this post. This Ask/Answer is a huge, HUGE problem. Implying that trans men, mascs, or AFAB enbies cannot or will not ally with trans women, or that they actively hate cis and trans women or AMAB, is not only a willfully ignorant point of view, but is actively dangerous to trans people as a whole, not to mention the progression of trans rights.

The thought that trans men are dangerous men, changing the words a bit and using TME instead, is actually transphobic. You are being "phobic" against some kind of "trans" person. See that? I'm being literal right here, too. If you saw the inverse of this and don't label it as transmisogyny, then you're either lying to yourself, or you don't understand anything about homophobia, transphobia, or possibly any language on Earth.

(side note, transphobia and homophobia isn't a literal fear of those stated groups, it's actually closer to a mass hysteria led from a fear of the unknown, xenophobia, and the very human habit to be aggressive towards scary things as a defense mechanism, wrapped up tightly in complex emotions because this defense mechanism was meant for when we were afraid of being eaten by predators in our caves.)

The point anyway, is that I've seen a large portion of the trans community outright denying that trans men can even have their own special kind of transphobia, which is untrue(see point 1), and using TMA/TME language to get around outright saying that transmasculine people are, in their minds, equivalent to the oppressive patriarchy. Please talk to more trans people. Everyone is an asshole in their 20s, I sure as fuck was.

Number 4: Ok so TMA/TME doesn't actually define anyone. Like, it can't. The only people who can literally be TME, is the known ruling class of a society that makes and enforces laws.

Here's the fuckin' thing guys, gals, and nonbinary pals: TransMisogyny, as stated, affects anyone that could be perceived as Feminine(the gyny part), whether they actually are or aren't.

Do you know what we base hate crime on, in the US at least? Intent. If someone attacks, say, a dark skinned woman because they think she's black, but it turns out she just has a really dark spray tan, or is Indian, or a Pacific Islander, or South American or it was really dark out, or... it doesn't matter. The intent is what matters.

You see, in this example, the woman was attacked because someone thought she was black and attacked her because of that false idea. Full stop. If a man attacks you, a trans woman, because he thinks you're "just a man with tits", that's a transphobic attack, full stop. That's where we stop caring about what kind of attack and what you actually looked like and deal with the intent of the attacker.

So, say we want to actually identify that intent and label it. IDK, for statistics or to relate to others or whatever. You can define that attack in whatever way you want from there, I guess, but if the attacker thinks "this man needs to be taught a lesson" then the attack was actually that the man intended to attack a "man", despite that not being how you identify. The overall attack is still transphobic, but comes from a place of misandry/androphobia. This comes down to a whole other list of things I'll get character limited trying to explain, but the intent is what defines an act. That's why Attempted Murder is a crime. Just because someone doesn't finish the job, doesn't mean go scot free; the intent was to kill.

___________

Let me finish with a plea. Please stop trying to make TMA/TME work. The only thing it actually does for the trans community is waste time, waste energy, and gets us to use transphobic and exclusive language. If you still think I'm wrong, go spend some time researching what intersectionality gets wrong. Spend time thinking of things that can help us all retain our rights and fight for the ones we've lost or never had.

Yelling at each other about who is more oppressed right now is by far the most idiotic thing we could be doing as a community. It's like playing chess and instead of trying to take pieces from your opponent, you knock some of your own pieces down and remove them from the board. You're just putting them in a better position to beat you. When you're down to just one pawn, your king and queen, and maybe a rook against a full board, you might as well just surrender.

If you want to be another Blair White, please get the fuck out, and stay the fuck away from pride you dumb piece of inflammatory shit. If you read this entire post and you still think it's a good idea to hate on "the other side of the spectrum" or that trans people of a different flavor are less oppressed, less subject to oppression, or anything of that nature, I invite you to please block me, and never talk to a single trans person for as long as you may live.

We don't need you. Stop holding us back.

[bardicbird]

gender/pronoun hcs for the mighty nein + essek because i am legally obligated to hit every character w/ my queerification beam

caleb - was born a guy and is comfortable being called a guy and using he/him but someone asks him if he’s a man and he’s like “uhh????? sure? maybe?” has that very Neurodivergent connection to gender where he doesn’t really understand the purpose or practicality of it so he just. doesn’t think about it. if you reallyyyy made him think abt it he’d probably say he/they pronouns are fine.

fjord - transgender babeyyyy. he transitioned somewhere around the time where he chilled w/ vandren a lot, and vandren was very supportive. fjord was the kinda kid who grew up aggressively not thinking about gender until someone went ‘hey if you want to be perceived as a boy that much than you probably are one’ and he went ‘oh . oh fuck.’ uses he/him !

beau - 100% nonbinary lesbian. definitely has that ‘i grew up in a household that forced rigid femininity on me so now I’m uncomfortable with it’ vibe. pretty much cool with all pronouns and will just kind of. shrug if you ask, but there are definitely situations where she does not want people to refer to her as a woman (especially around strangers or male authority figures). she’s totally cool with the nein using she/he/they .

yasha - guess what it’s another nonbinary lesbian. yasha has kinda just. demigirl vibes. where she’s fine being called a woman but she just doesn’t super see a point in connecting to any femininity or feelings of womanhood. views her gender similarly to caleb but in the girl way ! i think she would use she/they :]

veth - i mean., if you give me a whole trans allegory backstory I’m going to hc her as trans 😌 no one in the nein is cishet. probably transitioned pretty early in her life , before all the goblin shit went down, and probably even before she met yeza. uses she/her !

jester - trans girl jester !!! i also hc marion as not-totally-cis so she definitely had a supportive household growing up, and probably transitioned very early. even picked out a new name with her mom ! i think jester would just have a lot of fun with gender. she identifies solely as a girl, but looooves to fuck around with neopronouns and different expressions of her identity. she would probably go by she/her as well as just. a whole list of neopronouns that i can’t think of right now. maybe some themed around cute creatures and sweets :]

mollymauk - genderfluid legend. his gender is literally just ‘fuck around find out’. he is every gender at once, and likes to express this in many different ways. doesn’t give a fuck about pronouns: he uses all of them. and he will absolutely refer to himself as a man and a woman in the same sentence to confuse people. i don’t particularly think molly would be okay with it/its but he’d definitely be cool with other neopronouns ! xe/xir definitely comes to mind with him.

caduceus - gender??? we don’t know her. cad’s just vibing. pretty agender as things go but doesn’t use labels. everyone sort of assumes he just goes by he/him and he doesn’t bother to correct them because i mean. they’re not technically wrong; he just likes other pronouns as well. he would definitely call himself a man casually and then take a solid minute to laugh at himself because ‘oh my god that sounds so silly’. would mostly go by he/they but wouldn’t mind a she thrown in there from time to time !

essek - there is no way this floating dysphoria hoodie of a man is cis. i hc him as transmasc ! which creates some.. interesting connotations in terms of drow tradition. i’d like to think that that’s part of the reason why he keeps his hair short? bc traditionally drow men have long hair and when essek came out he was just like ‘ugh fuck this I’m not growing my hair out thats too much work’. i think he’d primarily use he/him but would be pleasantly surprised at an occasional they.

[sotheywrotestories]

The They Them Agenda

Request;

you know it :) maybe an enby reader x bucky? He's really confused by their pronouns and some fluffy explanation? ooooo or their first time sleeping in the same bed and maybe mentions of a binder and explaining what that is?

- @mad-malory

(Sorry this was so late)

Pairings; Bucky x Nonbinary Reader

Warnings; None, although there are mentions of a chest binder :)

***

Bucky grew up in a different time. Not that he necessarily had a hard time adjusting to modern times, but he wasn’t caught up with all the dynamics of the world.

Which is why he always thought (Y/N) was a group of people the Avengers out before Steve introduced them to Bucky.

“Buck, this is (Y/N), they’re from our downtown office,” Steve presented (Y/N) to Bucky, who, in fact, was only one person.

“Hi…nice to meet you,” Bucky grimaced. Not because (Y/N) had given him any reason to, but because he was so awkward.

“Hi, Bucky!” (Y/N) reached their hand out to Bucky. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! Steve talks about you all the time.”


Bucky tried to let his genuine smile come through this time.

“Likewise…I was under the impression that you were a group..but you know how Steve is,” Bucky huffed a bit.

(Y/N) gave Bucky a rather strange look. One of those “no-I-don’t-really-get-what-you-mean” looks.

“Right…well, I’m gonna go move in.” (Y/N) turned to Steve. “Thanks for letting me stay here while we rebuild, Stevie.”

(Y/N) gave one last smile to Bucky, then went on their way.

“Buck, ask (Y/N) about their pronouns when you have the chance,” Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “It took some getting used to, don’t worry.”

Bucky was even more confused. Not only was (Y/N) not a group of people, but now Bucky had to have them give him a grammar lesson? He knew he was old but it’s not like he forgot everything he learned way back when.

It must’ve read on his face.

“Trust me, Buck. Things are different now, people are different now. I don’t want you to accidentally hurt anyone just because you don’t know what’s going on.”

***

Bucky heard everyone in the tower refer to (Y/N) as if they were more than one person. Bucky wondered if there was some joke that he just wasn’t let in on.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Bucky smiled at (Y/N).

It wasn’t often that Bucky and (Y/N) really got to interact, they were both very busy.

(Y/N) spent most of their time studying and working from their room. Bucky liked to spend most of his time not being around people for as long as he could. So to see (Y/N) in the kitchen made him very excited.

“Morning, Buck! How have you been doing?”

“I’ve been good. Really good. I’ve been going to therapy.”

Why in the world would he share that with someone he’s interacted with once?

“I’m so good to hear that, Buck! I’m really proud of you.”

It sounded so earnest Bucky almost didn’t know what to do with himself. It wasn’t often people actually cared about what Bucky had to say. Nonetheless, someone he barely knew.

“I um..thank you.”

The pair shared a smile and (Y/N) went back to their tablet.

“Oh,” Bucky started. “Steve told me I needed to ask you about your…nouns.”

(Y/N) laughed a bit but still smiled at Bucky anyway.

“My pronouns,” (Y/N) gestured for Bucky to take a seat. “My pronouns are different than something you might be used to.”

“What do you mean.” Bucky took a seat.

“Well,” (Y/N) took a big sigh. “You know there’s she and he.”

(Y/N) paused and Bucky assumed he was meant to nod. He did.

“I’m not him or her. Gender is much more flexible now than it was when you were growing up. I use ‘they/them ‘ pronouns because I’m non-binary. Not all non-binary people use ‘they/them’, some use other pronouns and some people use Neo-pronouns.”

Bucky was trying to understand. He truly was. He was always much more accepting than anyone he ever knew back in the ’40s. It wasn’t that he thought there was something wrong with it, it was just that he didn’t understand. How couldn’t you be a boy or a girl?

“I…don’t get it,” he said with a small smile. “Were you born that way?”


(Y/N) gave Bucky a thoughtful look.

Great. He’s done something wrong.

“Gender-wise? Yes, I was born this way. I’ve been non-binary as long as I’ve been alive. Not everyone is like that. Some people discover that they’re non-binary later in their life.”

That didn’t clarify anything.

“I should preface that your gender and your biological sex are two different things.”

Oh.

Oh oh oh.

So they weren’t talking about- oh.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) laughed. “My gender identity is different than the sex I was assigned at birth. But- even today, you CAN change your sex to fit who you really are.”

Bucky knew a little bit about someone being transgender, it was in the crash course Steve gave him when he really started adjusting to new life in modern times.

“Right. But your gender and sex aren’t the same things.”

“Well…,” (Y/N) heaved a sigh. “Sometimes it is, some people do let their gender and sex define each other. It really depends. That’s why it’s always best to ask someone what their pronouns are before perceiving them in any way.”

It made a little bit of sense.

“So you’re not a she or a he, you’re they,” Bucky said.

“Yes. So you know…gender-neutral. I just don’t feel comfortable being perceived as a man or as a woman, I’d rather be perceived as neither.”

“Got it. So that’s why everyone refers to you as they,” Bucky nodded.

It wasn’t a hard concept to grasp that “they” could be used in a singular term.

“Thank you for telling me,” Bucky smiled. “Sorry if I slip up and call you something else, I’ll do my best.”

“Well, thank you for listening,” (Y/N) smiled. “I look forward to working with you.”

***

Working with (Y/N) turned into hanging out with (Y/N) every minute of every day. They were so easy to be around. Hanging out with (Y/N) turned into sleepovers with (Y/N), which quickly turned into a very confusing ordeal.

They had shared a bed with Bucky before, but never when the weather had been so ungodly hot. 

Tony messed up something in the wiring and now the ac wasn’t working.

“Bucky,” (Y/N) whined, drawing out the y. “Let me use your arm it’s too hot.”

“(N/N), you’ve been hugging on my arm all day, it’s not cold anymore,” Bucky laughed. “Give it some time cool off.”

(Y/N) huffed and flopped down onto the bed.

“You’ve forced my hand, Barnes, I have to remove my clothes.”

Bucky felt his face heat up. A lot.

“You’ve caught me in m master plan,” Bucky threw his hand over his face. “I really just want to see you naked.”

“Psh- men.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Do you mind if I take off my clothes?”


Bucky gulped. “Do you? Mind? Not mine. Yours. Do you mind. Like- if I see. Would you mind? I don’t mind. I really don’t. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable if you do mind-“

“Bucky. I don’t mind,” (Y/N) smiled. “I’ll just take off my shirt.”

Taking off their shirt, (Y/N) exposed a nude-colored strap wrapped around their body.

“Are you hurt?” Bucky exclaimed.

The piece of clothing looked very similar to the skin-color wrappings Helen would give the team when they were hurt. It’s the only time Bucky had seen anything else like it.

“No…?” (Y/N) gave Bucky a weird look. “Oh, oh no. This is my binder.”

“Binder?”

“It’s…part of being the whole non-binary thing. I’m…I really hate the way my chest looks, but I don’t really want to get surgery on it, so I wear something super tight to make my chest seem flatter than it is.”

Bucky was starting to understand that it was anything related to gender that (Y/N) didn’t like. He never thought about its physical attributes.

“Oh, okay. That makes sense. Sorry if I drew attention to it.”

“It’s fine, Buck,” (Y/N) smiled. “I should’ve warned you, I can see what it looks like to you.”


Bucky was grateful (Y/N) was so patient with him while he was learning more about people being non-binary. He truly wanted to understand everything about them before he made a move on them. Though, every time he thought he knew everything, (Y/N) has to teach him something new.

“Hey, Buck? Everything okay?” (Y/N) moved closer to Bucky. “I lost you there.”

“I just…feel so bad that you have to teach me so much,” Bucky plopped down on the bed. “It’s not your responsibility to have to teach me everything.”

(Y/N) gave him a soft smile and brushed his hair out of his face.

“I wouldn’t teach you if I thought you didn’t care. I can tell you care, that’s why I teach you so much.”

They can tell that he cares?

“You can tell?”

(Y/N) gave him the softest look he’s ever seen. “Buck, you’re easier to read than you think. I’ve been waiting on you.”

“I wanted to know everything before I made a move-“

“Why would you put that pressure on yourself, Buck?” (Y/N) sighed. “You’re never going to know everything about everything there is to know, neither will I!”

“But it’s your thing! It’s your identity!”

“And it’s always changing and there are always new things to learn. I appreciate the thought, Buck, it’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. But you can’t put that weight on your shoulders.”

As if (Y/N) couldn’t get any more perfect.

“So…,” Bucky trailed off.

“So…make a move you goofus,” (Y/N) smiled.

And maybe he did.

[themousefromfantasyland]

THE GIRL WHO PRETENDED TO BE A BOY

What about a transgender fairy tale for Pride Month?

This variant is a English translation by Andrew Lang of a Romanian fairy tale called Ileana Sînziana. In this long, but fun tale, a powerful new Emperor wants in his court all the male heirs of the Emperors who he already dethroned. Knowing her father doesn't have any male heir, the youngest daughter of an old Emperor decides to dress as man and goes out in a journey.

In the end she is "cursed" to be a man, becoming Făt-Frumos, here translated as Fet-Fruners, a stock Romanian character in folk tales, a knight hero similar to Prince Charming. Făt-Frumos can be roughly translated as handsome infant or child or handsome boy.

Once upon a time there lived an emperor who was a great conqueror, and reigned over more countries than anyone in the world. And whenever he subdued a fresh kingdom, he only granted peace on condition that the king should deliver him one of his sons for ten years' service.

Now on the borders of his kingdom lay a country whose emperor was as brave as his neighbour, and as long as he was young he was the victor in every war. But as years passed away, his head grew weary of making plans of campaign, and his people wanted to stay at home and till their fields, and at last he too felt that he must do homage to the other emperor.

One thing, however, held him back from this step which day by day he saw more clearly was the only one possible. His new overlord would demand the service of one of his sons. And the old emperor had no son; only three daughters.

Look on which side he would, nothing but ruin seemed to lie before him, and he became so gloomy, that his daughters were frightened, and did everything they could think of to cheer him up, but all to no purpose.

At length one day when they were at dinner, the eldest of the three summoned up all her courage and said to her father:

'What secret grief is troubling you? Are your subjects discontented? or have we given you cause for displeasure? To smooth away your wrinkles, we would gladly shed our blood, for our lives are bound up in yours; and this you know.'

'My daughter,' answered the emperor, 'what you say is true. Never have you given me one moment's pain. Yet now you cannot help me. Ah! why is not one of you a boy!'

'I don't understand,' she answered in surprise. 'Tell us what is wrong: and though we are not boys, we are not quite useless!'

'But what can you do, my dear children? Spin, sew, and weave—that is all your learning. Only a warrior can deliver me now, a young giant who is strong to wield the battle-axe: whose sword deals deadly blows.'

'But WHY do you need a son so much at present? Tell us all about it! It will not make matters worse if we know!'

'Listen then, my daughters, and learn the reason of my sorrow. You have heard that as long as I was young no man ever brought an army against me without it costing him dear. But the years have chilled my blood and drunk my strength. And now the deer can roam the forest, my arrows will never pierce his heart; strange soldiers will set fire to my houses and water their horses at my wells, and my arm cannot hinder them. No, my day is past, and the time has come when I too must bow my head under the yoke of my foe! But who is to give him the ten years' service that is part of the price which the vanquished must pay?'

'_I_ will,' cried the eldest girl, springing to her feet. But her father only shook his head sadly.

'Never will I bring shame upon you,' urged the girl. 'Let me go. Am I not a princess, and the daughter of an emperor?'

'Go then!' he said.

The brave girl's heart almost stopped beating from joy, as she set about her preparations. She was not still for a single moment, but danced about the house, turning chests and wardrobes upside down. She set aside enough things for a whole year—dresses embroidered with gold and precious stones, and a great store of provisions. And she chose the most spirited horse in the stable, with eyes of flame, and a coat of shining silver.

When her father saw her mounted and curvetting about the court, he gave her much wise advice, as to how she was to behave like the young man she appeared to be, and also how to behave as the girl she really was. Then he gave her his blessing, and she touched her horse with the spur.

The silver armour of herself and her steed dazzled the eyes of the people as she darted past. She was soon out of sight, and if after a few miles she had not pulled up to allow her escort to join her, the rest of the journey would have been performed alone.

But though none of his daughters were aware of the fact, the old emperor was a magician, and had laid his plans accordingly. He managed, unseen, to overtake his daughter, and throw a bridge of copper over a stream which she would have to cross. Then, changing himself into a wolf, he lay down under one of the arches, and waited.

He had chosen his time well, and in about half an hour the sound of a horse's hoofs was heard. His feet were almost on the bridge, when a big grey wolf with grinning teeth appeared before the princess. With a deep growl that froze the blood, he drew himself up, and prepared to spring.

The appearance of the wolf was so sudden and so unexpected, that the girl was almost paralysed, and never even dreamt of flight, till the horse leaped violently to one side. Then she turned him round, and urging him to his fullest speed, never drew rein till she saw the gates of the palace rising before her.

The old emperor, who had got back long since, came to the door to meet her, and touching her shining armour, he said, 'Did I not tell you, my child, that flies do not make honey?'

The days passed on, and one morning the second princess implored her father to allow her to try the adventure in which her sister had made such a failure. He listened unwillingly, feeling sure it was no use, but she begged so hard that in the end he consented, and having chosen her arms, she rode away.

But though, unlike her sister, she was quite prepared for the appearance of the wolf when she reached the copper bridge, she showed no greater courage, and galloped home as fast as her horse could carry her. On the steps of the castle her father was standing, and as still trembling with fright she knelt at his feet, he said gently, 'Did I not tell you, my child, that every bird is not caught in a net?'

The three girls stayed quietly in the palace for a little while, embroidering, spinning, weaving, and tending their birds and flowers, when early one morning, the youngest princess entered the door of the emperor's private apartments. 'My father, it is my turn now. Perhaps I shall get the better of that wolf!'

'What, do you think you are braver than your sisters, vain little one? You who have hardly left your long clothes behind you!' but she did not mind being laughed at, and answered,

'For your sake, father, I would cut the devil himself into small bits, or even become a devil myself. I think I shall succeed, but if I fail, I shall come home without more shame than my sisters.'

Still the emperor hesitated, but the girl petted and coaxed him till at last he said,

'Well, well, if you must go, you must. It remains to be seen what I shall get by it, except perhaps a good laugh when I see you come back with your head bent and your eyes on the ground.'

'He laughs best who laughs last,' said the princess.

Happy at having got her way, the princess decided that the first thing to be done was to find some old white-haired boyard, whose advice she could trust, and then to be very careful in choosing her horse. So she went straight to the stables where the most beautiful horses in the empire were feeding in the stalls, but none of them seemed quite what she wanted. Almost in despair she reached the last box of all, which was occupied by her father's ancient war-horse, old and worn like himself, stretched sadly out on the straw.

The girl's eyes filled with tears, and she stood gazing at him. The horse lifted his head, gave a little neigh, and said softly, 'You look gentle and pitiful, but I know it is your love for your father which makes you tender to me. Ah, what a warrior he was, and what good times we shared together! But now I too have grown old, and my master has forgotten me, and there is no reason to care whether my coat is dull or shining. Yet, it is not too late, and if I were properly tended, in a week I could vie with any horse in the stables!'

'And how should you be tended?' asked the girl.

'I must be rubbed down morning and evening with rain water, my barley must be boiled in milk, because of my bad teeth, and my feet must be washed in oil.'

'I should like to try the treatment, as you might help me in carrying out my scheme.'

'Try it then, mistress, and I promise you will never repent.'

So in a week's time the horse woke up one morning with a sudden shiver through all his limbs; and when it had passed away, he found his skin shining like a mirror, his body as fat as a water melon, his movement light as a chamois.

Then looking at the princess who had come early to the stable, he said joyfully,

'May success await on the steps of my master's daughter, for she has given me back my life. Tell me what I can do for you, princess, and I will do it.'

'I want to go to the emperor who is our over-lord, and I have no one to advise me. Which of all the white-headed boyards shall I choose as counsellor?'

'If you have me, you need no one else: I will serve you as I served your father, if you will only listen to what I say.'

'I will listen to everything. Can you start in three days?'

'This moment, if you like,' said the horse.

The preparations of the emperor's youngest daughter were much fewer and simpler than those of her sisters. They only consisted of some boy's clothes, a small quantity of linen and food, and a little money in case of necessity. Then she bade farewell to her father, and rode away.

A day's journey from the palace, she reached the copper bridge, but before they came in sight of it, the horse, who was a magician, had warned her of the means her father would take to prove her courage.

Still in spite of his warning she trembled all over when a huge wolf, as thin as if he had fasted for a month, with claws like saws, and mouth as wide as an oven, bounded howling towards her. For a moment her heart failed her, but the next, touching the horse lightly with her spur, she drew her sword from its sheath, ready to separate the wolf's head from its body at a single blow.

The beast saw the sword, and shrank back, which was the best thing it could do, as now the girl's blood was up, and the light of battle in her eyes. Then without looking round, she rode across the bridge.

The emperor, proud of this first victory, took a short cut, and waited for her at the end of another day's journey, close to a river, over which he threw a bridge of silver. And this time he took the shape of a lion.

But the horse guessed this new danger and told the princess how to escape it. But it is one thing to receive advice when we feel safe and comfortable, and quite another to be able to carry it out when some awful peril is threatening us. And if the wolf had made the girl quake with terror, it seemed like a lamb beside this dreadful lion.

At the sound of his roar the very trees quivered and his claws were so large that every one of them looked like a cutlass.

The breath of the princess came and went, and her feet rattled in the stirrups. Suddenly the remembrance flashed across her of the wolf whom she had put to flight, and waving her sword, she rushed so violently on the lion that he had barely time to spring on one side, so as to avoid the blow. Then, like a flash, she crossed this bridge also.

Now during her whole life, the princess had been so carefully brought up, that she had never left the gardens of the palace, so that the sight of the hills and valleys and tinkling streams, and the song of the larks and blackbirds, made her almost beside herself with wonder and delight. She longed to get down and bathe her face in the clear pools, and pick the brilliant flowers, but the horse said 'No,' and quickened his pace, neither turning to the right or the left.

'Warriors,' he told her, 'only rest when they have won the victory. You have still another battle to fight, and it is the hardest of all.'

This time it was neither a wolf nor a lion that was waiting for her at the end of the third day's journey, but a dragon with twelve heads, and a golden bridge behind it.

The princess rode up without seeing anything to frighten her, when a sudden puff of smoke and flame from beneath her feet, caused her to look down, and there was the horrible creature twisted and writhing, its twelve heads reared up as if to seize her between them.

The bridle fell from her hand: and the sword which she had just grasped slid back into its sheath, but the horse bade her fear nothing, and with a mighty effort she sat upright and spurred straight on the dragon.

The fight lasted an hour and the dragon pressed her hard. But in the end, by a well-directed side blow, she cut off one of the heads, and with a roar that seemed to rend the heavens in two, the dragon fell back on the ground, and rose as a man before her.

Although the horse had informed the princess the dragon was really her own father, the girl had hardly believed him, and stared in amazement at the transformation. But he flung his arms round her and pressed her to his heart saying, 'Now I see that you are as brave as the bravest, and as wise as the wisest. You have chosen the right horse, for without his help you would have returned with a bent head and downcast eyes. You have filled me with the hope that you may carry out the task you have undertaken, but be careful to forget none of my counsels, and above all to listen to those of your horse.'

When he had done speaking, the princess knelt down to receive his blessing, and they went their different ways.

The princess rode on and on, till at last she came to the mountains which hold up the roof of the world. There she met two Genii who had been fighting fiercely for two years, without one having got the least advantage over the other. Seeing what they took to be a young man seeking adventures, one of the combatants called out, 'Fet-Fruners! deliver me from my enemy, and I will give you the horn that can be heard the distance of a three days' journey;' while the other cried, 'Fet-Fruners! help me to conquer this pagan thief, and you shall have my horse, Sunlight.'

Before answering, the princess consulted her own horse as to which offer she should accept, and he advised her to side with the genius who was master of Sunlight, his own younger brother, and still more active than himself.

So the girl at once attacked the other genius, and soon clove his skull; then the one who was left victor begged her to come back with him to his house and he would hand her over Sunlight, as he had promised.

The mother of the genius was rejoiced to see her son return safe and sound, and prepared her best room for the princess, who, after so much fatigue, needed rest badly. But the girl declared that she must first make her horse comfortable in his stable; but this was really only an excuse, as she wanted to ask his advice on several matters.

But the old woman had suspected from the very first that the boy who had come to the rescue of her son was a girl in disguise, and told the genius that she was exactly the wife he needed. The genius scoffed, and inquired what female hand could ever wield a sabre like that; but, in spite of his sneers, his mother persisted, and as a proof of what she said, laid at night on each of their pillows a handful of magic flowers, that fade at the touch of man, but remain eternally fresh in the fingers of a woman.

It was very clever of her, but unluckily the horse had warned the princess what to expect, and when the house was silent, she stole very softly to the genius's room, and exchanged his faded flowers for those she held. Then she crept back to her own bed and fell fast asleep.

At break of day, the old woman ran to see her son, and found, as she knew she would, a bunch of dead flowers in his hand. She next passed on to the bedside of the princess, who still lay asleep grasping the withered flowers. But she did not believe any the more that her guest was a man, and so she told her son. So they put their heads together and laid another trap for her.

After breakfast the genius gave his arm to his guest, and asked her to come with him into the garden. For some time they walked about looking at the flowers, the genius all the while pressing her to pick any she fancied. But the princess, suspecting a trap, inquired roughly why they were wasting the precious hours in the garden, when, as men, they should be in the stables looking after their horses. Then the genius told his mother that she was quite wrong, and his deliverer was certainly a man. But the old woman was not convinced for all that.

She would try once more she said, and her son must lead his visitor into the armoury, where hung every kind of weapon used all over the world—some plain and bare, others ornamented with precious stones—and beg her to make choice of one of them. The princess looked at them closely, and felt the edges and points of their blades, then she hung at her belt an old sword with a curved blade, that would have done credit to an ancient warrior. After this she informed the genius that she would start early next day and take Sunlight with her.

And there was nothing for the mother to do but to submit, though she still stuck to her own opinion.

The princess mounted Sunlight, and touched him with her spur, when the old horse, who was galloping at her side, suddenly said:

'Up to this time, mistress, you have obeyed my counsels and all has gone well. Listen to me once more, and do what I tell you. I am old, and—now that there is someone to take my place, I will confess it—I am afraid that my strength is not equal to the task that lies before me. Give me leave, therefore, to return home, and do you continue your journey under the care of my brother. Put your faith in him as you put it in me, and you will never repent. Wisdom has come early to Sunlight.'

'Yes, my old comrade, you have served me well; and it is only through your help that up to now I have been victorious. So grieved though I am to say farewell, I will obey you yet once more, and will listen to your brother as I would to yourself. Only, I must have a proof that he loves me as well as you do.'

'How should I not love you?' answered Sunlight; 'how should I not be proud to serve a warrior such as you? Trust me, mistress, and you shall never regret the absence of my brother. I know there will be difficulties in our path, but we will face them together.'

Then, with tears in her eyes, the princess took leave of her old horse, who galloped back to her father.

She had ridden only a few miles further, when she saw a golden curl lying on the road before her. Checking her horse, she asked whether it would be better to take it or let it lie.

'If you take it,' said Sunlight, 'you will repent, and if you don't, you will repent too: so take it.' On this the girl dismounted, and picking up the curl, wound it round her neck for safety.

They passed by hills, they passed by mountains, they passed through valleys, leaving behind them thick forests, and fields covered with flowers; and at length they reached the court of the over-lord.

He was sitting on his throne, surrounded by the sons of the other emperors, who served him as pages. These youths came forward to greet their new companion, and wondered why they felt so attracted towards him.

[Quick pause. This is a very funny trope that I keep finding in very old cross-dressing stories. The male characters find themselves mysteriously attracted to the female character pretending to be male. Think of Li Shang from Mulan.]

However, there was no time for talking and concealing her fright.

The princess was led straight up to the throne, and explained, in a low voice, the reason of her coming. The emperor received her kindly, and declared himself fortunate at finding a vassal so brave and so charming, and begged the princess to remain in attendance on his person.

She was, however, very careful in her behaviour towards the other pages, whose way of life did not please her. One day, however, she had been amusing herself by making sweetmeats, when two of the young princes looked in to pay her a visit. She offered them some of the food which was already on the table, and they thought it so delicious that they even licked their fingers so as not to lose a morsel. Of course they did not keep the news of their discovery to themselves, but told all their companions that they had just been enjoying the best supper they had had since they were born. And from that moment the princess was left no peace, till she had promised to cook them all a dinner.

Now it happened that, on the very day fixed, all the cooks in the palace became intoxicated, and there was no one to make up the fire.

When the pages heard of this shocking state of things, they went to their companion and implored her to come to the rescue.

The princess was fond of cooking, and was, besides, very good-natured; so she put on an apron and went down to the kitchen without delay. When the dinner was placed before the emperor he found it so nice that he ate much more than was good for him. The next morning, as soon as he woke, he sent for his head cook, and told him to send up the same dishes as before. The cook, seized with fright at this command, which he knew he could not fulfil, fell on his knees, and confessed the truth.

The emperor was so astonished that he forgot to scold, and while he was thinking over the matter, some of his pages came in and said that their new companion had been heard to boast that he knew where Iliane was to be found—the celebrated Iliane of the song which begins:

'Golden Hair. The fields are green,'

And that to their certain knowledge he had a curl of her hair in his possession.

When he heard that, the emperor desired the page to be brought before him, and, as soon as the princess obeyed his summons, he said to her abruptly:

'Fet-Fruners, you have hidden from me the fact that you knew the golden-haired Iliane! Why did you do this? for I have treated you more kindly than all my other pages.'

Then, after making the princess show him the golden curl which she wore round her neck, he added: 'Listen to me; unless by some means or other you bring me the owner of this lock, I will have your head cut off in the place where you stand. Now go!'

In vain the poor girl tried to explain how the lock of hair came into her possession; the emperor would listen to nothing, and, bowing low, she left his presence and went to consult Sunlight what she was to do.

At his first words she brightened up. 'Do not be afraid, mistress; only last night my brother appeared to me in a dream and told me that a genius had carried off Iliane, whose hair you picked up on the road. But Iliane declares that, before she marries her captor, he must bring her, as a present, the whole stud of mares which belong to her. The genius, half crazy with love, thinks of nothing night and day but how this can be done, and meanwhile she is quite safe in the island swamps of the sea. Go back to the emperor and ask him for twenty ships filled with precious merchandise. The rest you shall know by-and-by.'

On hearing this advice, the princess went at once into the emperor's presence.

'May a long life be yours, O Sovereign all mighty!' said she. 'I have come to tell you that I can do as you command if you will give me twenty ships, and load them with the most precious wares in your kingdom.'

'You shall have all that I possess if you will bring me the golden-haired Iliane,' said the emperor.

The ships were soon ready, and the princess entered the largest and finest, with Sunlight at her side. Then the sails were spread and the voyage began.

For seven weeks the wind blew them straight towards the west, and early one morning they caught sight of the island swamps of the sea.

They cast anchor in a little bay, and the princess made haste to disembark with Sunlight, but, before leaving the ship, she tied to her belt a pair of tiny gold slippers, adorned with precious stones. Then mounting Sunlight, she rode about till she came to several palaces, built on hinges, so that they could always turn towards the sun.

The most splendid of these was guarded by three slaves, whose greedy eyes were caught by the glistening gold of the slippers. They hastened up to the owner of these treasures, and inquired who he was. 'A merchant,' replied the princess, 'who had somehow missed his road, and lost himself among the island swamps of the sea.'

Not knowing if it was proper to receive him or not, the slaves returned to their mistress and told her all they had seen, but not before she had caught sight of the merchant from the roof of her palace. Luckily her gaoler was away, always trying to catch the stud of mares, so for the moment she was free and alone.

The slaves told their tale so well that their mistress insisted on going down to the shore and seeing the beautiful slippers for herself. They were even lovelier than she expected, and when the merchant besought her to come on board, and inspect some that he thought were finer still, her curiosity was too great to refuse, and she went.

Once on board ship, she was so busy turning over all the precious things stored there, that she never knew that the sails were spread, and that they were flying along with the wind behind them; and when she did know, she rejoiced in her heart, though she pretended to weep and lament at being carried captive a second time. Thus they arrived at the court of the emperor.

They were just about to land, when the mother of the genius stood before them. She had learnt that Iliane had fled from her prison in company with a merchant, and, as her son was absent, had come herself in pursuit. Striding over the blue waters, hopping from wave to wave, one foot reaching to heaven, and the other planted in the foam, she was close at their heels, breathing fire and flame, when they stepped on shore from the ship. One glance told Iliane who the horrible old woman was, and she whispered hastily to her companion. Without saying a word, the princess swung her into Sunlight's saddle, and leaping up behind her, they were off like a flash.

It was not till they drew near the town that the princess stooped and asked Sunlight what they should do. 'Put your hand into my left ear,' said he, 'and take out a sharp stone, which you must throw behind you.'

The princess did as she was told, and a huge mountain sprang up behind them. The mother of the genius began to climb up it, and though they galloped quickly, she was quicker still.

They heard her coming, faster, faster; and again the princess stooped to ask what was to be done now. 'Put your hand into my right ear,' said the horse, 'and throw the brush you will find there behind you.' The princess did so, and a great forest sprang up behind them, and, so thick were its leaves, that even a wren could not get through. But the old woman seized hold of the branches and flung herself like a monkey from one to the others, and always she drew nearer—always, always—till their hair was singed by the flames of her mouth.

Then, in despair, the princess again bent down and asked if there was nothing more to be done, and Sunlight replied 'Quick, quick, take off the betrothal ring on the finger of Iliane and throw it behind you.'

This time there sprang up a great tower of stone, smooth as ivory, hard as steel, which reached up to heaven itself. And the mother of the genius gave a howl of rage, knowing that she could neither climb it nor get through it. But she was not beaten yet, and gathering herself together, she made a prodigious leap, which landed her on the top of the tower, right in the middle of Iliane's ring which lay there, and held her tight. Only her claws could be seen grasping the battlements.

All that could be done the old witch did; but the fire that poured from her mouth never reached the fugitives, though it laid waste the country a hundred miles round the tower, like the flames of a volcano. Then, with one last effort to free herself, her hands gave way, and, falling down to the bottom of the tower, she was broken in pieces.

When the flying princess saw what had happened she rode back to the spot, as Sunlight counselled her, and placed her finger on the top of the tower, which was gradually shrinking into the earth. In an instant the tower had vanished as if it had never been, and in its place was the finger of the princess with a ring round it.

The emperor received Iliane with all the respect that was due to her, and fell in love at first sight besides.

But this did not seem to please Iliane, whose face was sad as she walked about the palace or gardens, wondering how it was that, while other girls did as they liked, she was always in the power of someone whom she hated.

So when the emperor asked her to share his throne Iliane answered:

'Noble Sovereign, I may not think of marriage till my stud of horses has been brought me, with their trappings all complete.'

When he heard this, the emperor once more sent for Fet-Fruners, and said:

'Fet-Fruners, fetch me instantly the stud of mares, with their trappings all complete. If not, your head shall pay the forfeit.'

'Mighty Emperor, I kiss your hands! I have but just returned from doing your bidding, and, behold, you send me on another mission, and stake my head on its fulfilment, when your court is full of valiant young men, pining to win their spurs. They say you are a just man; then why not entrust this quest to one of them? Where am I to seek these mares that I am to bring you?'

'How do I know? They may be anywhere in heaven or earth; but, wherever they are, you will have to find them.'

The princess bowed and went to consult Sunlight. He listened while she told her tale, and then said:

'Fetch quickly nine buffalo skins; smear them well with tar, and lay them on my back. Do not fear; you will succeed in this also; but, in the end, the emperor's desires will be his undoing.'

The buffalo skins were soon got, and the princess started off with Sunlight. The way was long and difficult, but at length they reached the place where the mares were grazing. Here the genius who had carried off Iliane was wandering about, trying to discover how to capture them, all the while believing that Iliane was safe in the palace where he had left her.

As soon as she caught sight of him, the princess went up and told him that Iliane had escaped, and that his mother, in her efforts to recapture her, had died of rage. At this news a blind fury took possession of the genius, and he rushed madly upon the princess, who awaited his onslaught with perfect calmness. As he came on, with his sabre lifted high in the air, Sunlight bounded right over his head, so that the sword fell harmless. And when in her turn the princess prepared to strike, the horse sank upon his knees, so that the blade pierced the genius's thigh.

The fight was so fierce that it seemed as if the earth would give way under them, and for twenty miles round the beasts in the forests fled to their caves for shelter. At last, when her strength was almost gone, the genius lowered his sword for an instant. The princess saw her chance, and, with one swoop of her arm, severed her enemy's head from his body. Still trembling from the long struggle, she turned away, and went to the meadow where the stud were feeding.

By the advice of Sunlight, she took care not to let them see her, and climbed a thick tree, where she could see and hear without being seen herself. Then he neighed, and the mares came galloping up, eager to see the new comer—all but one horse, who did not like strangers, and thought they were very well as they were. As Sunlight stood his ground, well pleased with the attention paid him, this sulky creature suddenly advanced to the charge, and bit so violently that had it not been for the nine buffalo skins Sunlight's last moment would have come. When the fight was ended, the buffalo skins were in ribbons, and the beaten animal writhing with pain on the grass.

Nothing now remained to be done but to drive the whole stud to the emperor's court. So the princess came down from the tree and mounted Sunlight, while the stud followed meekly after, the wounded horse bringing up the rear. On reaching the palace, she drove them into a yard, and went to inform the emperor of her arrival.

The news was told at once to Iliane, who ran down directly and called them to her one by one, each mare by its name. And at the first sight of her the wounded animal shook itself quickly, and in a moment its wounds were healed, and there was not even a mark on its glossy skin.

By this time the emperor, on hearing where she was, joined her in the yard, and at her request ordered the mares to be milked, so that both he and she might bathe in the milk and keep young for ever. But they would suffer no one to come near them, and the princess was commanded to perform this service also.

At this, the heart of the girl swelled within her. The hardest tasks were always given to her, and long before the two years were up, she would be worn out and useless. But while these thoughts passed through her mind, a fearful rain fell, such as no man remembered before, and rose till the mares were standing up to their knees in water. Then as suddenly it stopped, and, behold! the water was ice, which held the animals firmly in its grasp. And the princess's heart grew light again, and she sat down gaily to milk them, as if she had done it every morning of her life.

The love of the emperor for Iliane waxed greater day by day, but she paid no heed to him, and always had an excuse ready to put off their marriage. At length, when she had come to the end of everything she could think of, she said to him one day: 'Grant me, Sire, just one request more, and then I will really marry you; for you have waited patiently this long time.'

'My beautiful dove,' replied the emperor, 'both I and all I possess are yours, so ask your will, and you shall have it.'

'Get me, then,' she said, 'a flask of the holy water that is kept in a little church beyond the river Jordan, and I will be your wife.'

Then the emperor ordered Fet-Fruners to ride without delay to the river Jordan, and to bring back, at whatever cost, the holy water for Iliane.

'This, my mistress,' said Sunlight, when she was saddling him, 'is the last and most difficult of your tasks. But fear nothing, for the hour of the emperor has struck.'

So they started; and the horse, who was not a wizard for nothing, told the princess exactly where she was to look for the holy water.

'It stands,' he said, 'on the altar of a little church, and is guarded by a troop of nuns. They never sleep, night or day, but every now and then a hermit comes to visit them, and from him they learn certain things it is needful for them to know. When this happens, only one of the nuns remains on guard at a time, and if we are lucky enough to hit upon this moment, we may get hold of the vase at once; if not, we shall have to wait the arrival of the hermit, however long it may be; for there is no other means of obtaining the holy water.'

They came in sight of the church beyond the Jordan, and, to their great joy, beheld the hermit just arriving at the door. They could hear him calling the nuns around him, and saw them settle themselves under a tree, with the hermit in their midst—all but one, who remained on guard, as was the custom.

The hermit had a great deal to say, and the day was very hot, so the nun, tired of sitting by herself, lay down right across the threshold, and fell sound asleep.

Then Sunlight told the princess what she was to do, and the girl stepped softly over the sleeping nun, and crept like a cat along the dark aisle, feeling the wall with her fingers, lest she should fall over something and ruin it all by a noise. But she reached the altar in safety, and found the vase of holy water standing on it. This she thrust into her dress, and went back with the same care as she came. With a bound she was in the saddle, and seizing the reins bade Sunlight take her home as fast as his legs could carry him.

The sound of the flying hoofs aroused the nun, who understood instantly that the precious treasure was stolen, and her shrieks were so loud and piercing that all the rest came flying to see what was the matter. The hermit followed at their heels, but seeing it was impossible to overtake the thief, he fell on his knees and called his most deadly curse down on her head, praying that if the thief was a man, he might become a woman; and if she was a woman, that she might become a man. In either case he thought that the punishment would be severe.

But punishments are things about which people do not always agree, and when the princess suddenly felt she was really the man she had pretended to be, she was delighted, and if the hermit had only been within reach she would have thanked him from her heart.

By the time she reached the emperor's court, Fet-Fruners looked a young man all over in the eyes of everyone; and even the mother of the genius would now have had her doubts set at rest. He drew forth the vase from his tunic and held it up to the emperor, saying: 'Mighty Sovereign, all hail! I have fulfilled this task also, and I hope it is the last you have for me; let another now take his turn.'

'I am content, Fet-Fruners,' replied the emperor, 'and when I am dead it is you who will sit upon my throne; for I have yet no son to come after me. But if one is given me, and my dearest wish is accomplished, then you shall be his right hand, and guide him with your counsels.'

But though the emperor was satisfied, Iliane was not, and she determined to revenge herself on the emperor for the dangers which he had caused Fet-Fruners to run. And as for the vase of holy water, she thought that, in common politeness, her suitor ought to have fetched it himself, which he could have done without any risk at all.

So she ordered the great bath to be filled with the milk of her mares, and begged the emperor to clothe himself in white robes, and enter the bath with her, an invitation he accepted with joy. Then, when both were standing with the milk reaching to their necks, she sent for the horse which had fought Sunlight, and made a secret sign to him. The horse understood what he was to do, and from one nostril he breathed fresh air over Iliane, and from the other, he snorted a burning wind which shrivelled up the emperor where he stood, leaving only a little heap of ashes.

His strange death, which no one could explain, made a great sensation throughout the country, and the funeral his people gave him was the most splendid ever known. When it was over, Iliane summoned Fet-Fruners before her, and addressed him thus:

'Fet-Fruners! it is you who brought me and have saved my life, and obeyed my wishes. It is you who gave me back my stud; you who killed the genius, and the old witch his mother; you who brought me the holy water. And you, and none other, shall be my husband.'

'Yes, I will marry you,' said the young man, with a voice almost as soft as when he was a princess. 'But know that in OUR house, it will be the cock who sings and not the hen!'

[somelazyassartist]

What's wrong with the Taako character design?

Don't get me fucking started. And there are plenty of problems with Merle and Magnus too, but since you asked about Taako specifically, I will talk about Taako specifically.

It's racist. And antisemitic. Like yeah, that's a pretty big fuckin thing. I'm not really the right person to talk about this since I am a white goy, but the #taz racism tag has a lot of really good discussion about his design.

It's frankly, in my humble opinion, fetishistic and insulting to gay men in a way. Now I'm sure other gay men have different opinions than I do, we're not a hive mind after all, but as a gay man I feel very.... Uncomfortable with it. He's the only openly gay man out of the main characters, and he's drawn as a skinny twink with long bleached blonde hair who cares about makeup and always wears a skimpy outfit or a tiddy window or at the very least heels. And that on its own isn't necessarily bad- hey, I'm a skinny twink with long hair that likes to wear more feminine clothes. But along with his design, the way they adapted his dialogue reduces him from this fully fleshed out beautiful complex character to "I'm gay!! Look at me!! Can you tell I'm gay cuz I like astrology!!! I'm wearing a dress haha isn't that so weird and quirky and obviously every gay man dresses like this isn't it so weird!! Hey I'm flirting with guys hey by the way did I mention I'm gay?!" and frankly it rubs me the wrong way.

Okay this one is just my personal thing and I 100% don't expect everyone to agree with this, but personally, as a trans man, I identified with Podcast!Taako a lot and I can't imagine him as a cisgender man. And I've seen posts from other trans guys that identify with him too. So again, seeing a character that quite a few trans men identify with being presented as this overly-stereotypical effeminate skinny might-as-well-be-white guy acting and presenting this way crosses the line from "representation of feminine gay/trans men" from the original to the "this relies so heavily on stereotypes that I can barely give you credit for the attempt, it's practically plain insulting" that the graphic novel stoops to. And besides my own headcanon of Taako bring transgender, his twin sister Lup is canonically a trans woman, and I dread the day she appears in the comics. I swear to the gods if they make Lup look "bigger and stronger" than her brother (cisgender or not- both would be huge issues for slightly different reasons) I'm going to fucking throw hands. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with being a big strong and/or masculine trans woman!! But with all the other stereotypes they've shoved into these characters I have absolutely zero hope that they could pull that off in a respectful way.

It just looks bad. It straight up just does not look good. Now listen, I may be only a novice teenage artist who is by far not anywhere close to having the skill level needed to create a comic book- BUT EVEN I KNOW THIS IS BAD AND COULD DO BETTER THAN THIS. He does not fit in with the other characters at all, he looks like he belongs in a whole different comic!! And aside from Magic Brian (who is a DROW by the way- regardless of the other designs he'd be purple anyways so I can't really even count him) Taako is the ONLY blue-skinned Elf. Drow are purple, Orcs are green, Dragonborn are all sorts of colors, so I get those character choices. And yes, according to D&D canon, regular Elves can have "blueish-white" skin tones. SO WHY DON'T WE SEE ANY OTHER BLUE ELVES?????? IF THERE WERE MORE THEN YEAH IT'D STILL BE PROBLEMATIC WITHIN THE CONTEXT OF HIS CHARACTER BUT AT LEAST IT'D MAKE FUCKING SENSE!!!!!! BUT NO IT SEEMS LIKE TAAKO AND PRESUMABLY LUP WILL ARE THE ONLY BLUE ELVES AND LIKE??? WHAT THE FUCK????? DID THEY NOT THINK THIS THROUGH??????? DID THEY NOT REALIZE HOW JARRING IT IS AND HOW OUT OF PLACE HE LOOKS?????

in conclusion: I love Podcast!Taako more than I could ever say but Jesus Fucking Christ did the graphic novel butcher him. How could they do this to my boy.

[cestlestial-beings]

like that

Summary: Three times Sam and Dean have sex: 1. Dean visits Sam at Stanford and they find out they feel the same way about each other; 2. Sam confesses to Dean that he's a man, and Dean does his best to ease Sam's worries; 3. Years into Sam's transition, Dean enjoys Sam's masculine traits.

Fandom: Supernatural Characters: FTM!Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Pairing: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester Word Count: 4600 AO3: Link

Notes:

Thanks to @jackklineisperfect for beta reading :) Any errors you find are my own.

Pronouns are based on Dean's perception, not Sam's identity.

Part 1/Stanford Sam looks like this.

More notes on physical transition for transgender men are included in the end notes on AO3.

Full Fic:

The First Time with Her

Dean fell in love with Sam when she was sixteen. One day, it just clicked. She was beautiful.

He would never act on it. She was four years younger than him, and they were siblings.

But every time he hooked up with someone else, he thought about her.

* * *

Dean visits Sam a couple of days before her birthday, two years into her time at Stanford.

He has no idea how she’s going to take it—they’d had enough angry arguments over the phone during Sam’s first six months that they haven’t spoken to each other in more than a year, despite how much Dean has wanted to—but here he is, in front of Sam’s apartment building, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk.

Finally the front door to the building opens, and Dean sees her.

His breath catches. She’s embraced her feminine side since she’s come to Stanford. She’s wearing a fitted t-shirt and shorts that show off her long legs instead of the too-loose hoodie and jeans of her high school days; she has a wavy, shoulder-length hairstyle and bangs instead of a choppy, done-at-home haircut; and she has just a hint of makeup on—light eyeliner and lipgloss. She looks nothing like the frumpy, tomboyish girl she’d been when Dean saw her last.

“You’ve been standing out here for two hours. Are you just gonna stand there looking like a stalker, or are you coming to come in?”

He ducks his head and jogs up the steps to the door. Right back into her sass, before even a hello.

“You look so grown up, Sammy,” he says, as she walks him up the stairs to her apartment.

Sam smiles shyly. “My friends are really insistent on helping me with my style.”

No kidding. Dean’s never seen her look so much like a girl.

She leaves the stairwell at the third floor and stops at a door about halfway down the hall, then turns to him.

“Dean, why are you here?” she finally asks.

He gives her a wavering smile. “I wanted to surprise you for your birthday, Sammy.” He knows that doesn’t answer her question, so he sighs and adds, “I know I gave you a lot of crap for leaving me and Dad behind, but…” He shrugs. “I miss you. I’ll accept your decision if it means you’ll be in my life.”

“Awwww. That’s so cute.”

“Shut up,” he says, rolling his eyes. All grown up and yet still the annoying little sibling.

And then she smiles, and it lights up her whole face. His heart melts, and he hates himself for it.

She pulls him into a hug. “I really missed you too, Dean.”

* * *

Sam introduces Dean to her roommates as “an old friend” which strikes Dean as strange, but he rolls with it. She grabs her stuff and they go out for burgers, talking about everything except what Sam left behind. The conversation is so natural, it’s almost as if the two-year gap since they last saw each other hadn’t happened at all.

Dean gives her a gift (a small stack of classic movies he knows she hasn’t seen but should) and buys her a milkshake. He sticks a candle he’d brought with him into the top of the milkshake and lights it, and Sam laughs when an employee comes over to tell them to put it out because it’s a fire hazard. As it gets dark, Sam takes Dean on a walk around the Stanford campus, pointing out certain landmarks as they go.

It’s almost ten at night when they get back to Sam’s apartment building. They stop in front of the building, and it feels like the end of a date, neither of them sure where to go from here. Something shifted in their relationship since they’d seen each other last; there was a new, unexplored dimension to it that hung heavy in the air between them.

“Where are you staying?” Sam asks him.

Dean points to the Impala, parked across the street. “That’s my room for the night.”

Sam rolls her eyes. “Come on,” she says, already headed inside.

“Won’t your roommates mind?”

“No,” she says. “They have boys over often enough, I don’t think they’ll care.” Dean feels his cheeks start to burn, and he can see Sam start to blush at the careless comparison as well. “You know what I mean!” she says, elbowing him hard in the ribs.

Sam lays a futon out on the floor for him and gives him a stack of sheets before leaving to go through her bedtime routine. He sets up, feeling nostalgic for when they shared rooms as kids. You have to sleep on the floor because you’re younger, Dean would say after setting up the bedding on the ground, and Sam would throw a fit but finally give in, and ultimately Dean would give her the bed because he felt guilty.

Dean looks around the room, running his fingers along the back of the spines of textbooks and picking up picture frames with photos of Sam and people Dean doesn’t know.

Sam finally comes back into the room, dressed in plaid pajama pants and a loose AC/DC t-shirt. She’s so gorgeous that Dean loses his breath for a moment.

“Hey,” she says, shutting the door behind her, and it’s a little awkward now, since they’re alone, awkward like it hasn’t been all night. She bites her lip and pauses like she’s going to say something. It takes her a moment but she finally says, “There’s something I feel like I should tell you.”

“Hm.” He’s completely still, waiting for what she’s going to say.

She takes a deep breath. “Part of the reason I left was to get away from you.”

It feels like a punch in the gut, and he turns away.

“No, Dean, I…” She runs a hand through her hair. “I wanted you in a way that I wasn’t supposed to, so I ran. I ran because I was guilty, and scared. I just thought you should know, before you leave again. So you can know not to come back.”

Dean’s breath stops completely as he takes in her words.

She forces a laugh. “God, it was a mistake inviting you up here tonight when—”

He cuts her off with a kiss. She’s surprised but leans into it almost immediately, the tension melting out of her body. He thought this would feel worse. He thought this would feel gross, and predatory, and wrong. But he can tell how badly she wants him, so it just feels good.

He pulls back, just a little. “I want you too,” he says. “In a way that I’m not supposed to.”

She lets out a short, giddy laugh, and pulls him back in for a kiss.

He sits down on the bed and pulls her onto his lap, their mouths never leaving each other’s. His hand slips up under her shirt to cup her breast, and he’s surprised to note she’s still wearing a snug-fitting sports bra, even in her nightwear. She leans away from him and pushes his hand down.

“You don’t want to…?” he starts to say.

“No, I do. You can touch me anywhere but there.”

He doesn’t really understand but he doesn’t mind because there’s so much more of Sam to explore. He lets his hands roam down her back, across her belly, around the firm curve of her ass. He pulls her shirt off of her and helps her slide out of her pants and she’s here, bare in front of him in just her underwear and so, so beautiful.

“Are you sure?” he whispers, and she nods, hungry. “Okay.”

He flips her over onto her back and takes a moment to pull off his own clothes. He feels self-conscious in a way he’s never been with other girls as he undresses in front of her. When his clothes are off, he crawls over to look down at her. Her eyes are sparkling and happy, the corner of her mouth just barely pulled up in a smile.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes, and now she does smile, fully.

He presses kisses down along her body, along her collarbone and arms and stomach—careful to skip over her still-covered chest, like she asked—and he pulls down her panties, down and off (lacy pink doesn’t seem like Sam’s style, but the thought only registers in his head for a moment).

He kisses her lower stomach, and he feels her gasp lightly, goosebumps rising on her skin. He pushes her legs apart for access and slides his tongue along her folds and up to her clit. She’s wet already.

“Dean,” she moans, and the sound runs straight through him to his rapidly hardening dick. She buries a hand in his hair while his tongue swirls around her clit. She tugs his hair a little bit. “Dean, I want you inside me.”

He slides back up and kisses the corner of her mouth. “Sure, baby.”

“Condoms in the second drawer,” she says, pointing to the nightstand.

He opens the drawer and rifles through it. There’s a couple of dildos, a vibrator, several sizes of butt plugs. “Sammy, you naughty girl. Playing with yourself, huh?”

Her face is in the shadow of his body, but he can still see her blush. She slaps his arm. “Just get the condom, asshole.”

He obeys. Fishes one out, tears open the packaging, slides it on. When he looks back at her, her lips are parted just slightly, her eyes hooded with desire. Fuck, she’s beautiful. She’s everything he’s ever wanted.

He lines himself up with her hole and she uses her hand to help guide him in. He pushes in and she gasps, pressing her head back into the pillow and squeezing her eyes shut. He slides in slow, letting her adjust to his presence inside her. She’s tight and warm and it feels so good it’s almost overwhelming.

Dean stops when he’s all the way in.

She opens her eyes and meets his, bringing up her hand to rest on the side of his face. “This is pretty fucked up, huh?”

Yeah, he wants to say. There’s a part of him insistently reminding him that it’s not too late to stop, to put things back to the way they were. To make their relationship be that of siblings, not whatever the fuck this is.

But he wants this and Sam wants this and he doesn’t want her to feel like a freak for her desires, so he says, “Less fucked up than everything else about our lives,” and she laughs softly before pulling him down for another kiss.

Sam keeps him close as he rocks into her, slow and sensual, and sometimes when he hits just the right spot, she’ll moan against his lips. Their bodies move together with a familiarity that only comes from having known each other their entire lives, though they’ve never known each other like this.

She comes with a moan, and the feeling of Sam clenching around him pushes him over the edge a few seconds later.

“Fuck, Sam,” he says, the pleasure washing over him in waves.

“Dean,” she says, and, breathing hard, she takes his face in both of her hands, watching the pleasure on his face with a satisfied smile.

He pulls out and flops down next to her, lying on his side so he can watch her catch her breath.

She brushes a lock of sweaty hair out of her face and rolls to face him as well. She grins. “God, you’re hot.”

“I know,” he says, and she rolls her eyes. He leans in close and kisses her forehead, the way he’s done since she was a little kid. He thought it would feel weird, a gesture of an older sibling right after sex, but it just feels natural. Like the physical intimacy they’d just shared was simply an extension of the emotional intimacy they’ve had their entire lives.

“Hey,” she says, running her fingers along Dean’s cheek. “I don’t have class tomorrow morning.”

“So...?”

“So you can keep me up tonight,” she says, and she winks at him, an awkward wink closer to a blink, and he laughs at her attempt to be sexy. Her cheeks turn red, but she scowls at him. So cute.

“Okay, I’ll keep you up tonight,” he says, giving her a quick kiss.

And he does, but they spend more time talking than fucking, and he’s so content. He could stay here forever.

* * *

Dean doesn’t call for a year, even though he knows he should. But what is he supposed to say, after a night like that with his own sister?

Finally he works up the nerve.

It’s a short conversation.

Sam is in a committed relationship now. She’s trying harder than ever to distance herself from her past, and Dean doesn’t fit into her new life.

It shouldn’t hurt like it does. Dean is the one who’d put space between them, and she was going to move on eventually. But he still feels hollow, and he doesn’t call her again.

The First Time with Him

Sam is having a breakdown in the motel bathroom and Dean doesn’t know what to do. Dean thinks she was set off by meeting Dean’s old flame Cassie, and Dean doesn’t know how many more times he can assure Sam that Cassie isn’t the one he’s in love with anymore, that Sam is the only person he has eyes for.

“That’s not it,” Sam said, but wouldn’t elaborate any more than that.

“Come on, Sam, just talk to me,” he says, resting his head against the bathroom door. “Please.”

“Give me some space, okay?” she says again.

He sighs, but there’s not much he can do, so he goes out and gets a couple of burgers and comes back. When he enters the motel room, Sam is sitting on the bed in a huge, oversize hoodie and a loose pair of Dean’s jeans, staring at the wall. It’s almost impossible to make out any of her form beneath the clothes. She’s been dressing in super loose, baggy clothes like that more often than not lately, and Dean doesn’t understand.

“Food,” he says.

Sam begrudgingly gets up and sits down at the motel room’s table, helping herself to one of the burgers. She munches on it silently, her red, puffy eyes carefully avoiding Dean’s.

She’d been so much more masculine by the time Dean had broken into her apartment to tell her Dad was missing. Away from her feminine attire and presentation she’d had the previous time they’d met, and back to a short, boyish haircut and masculine outfits that hid her curves. Anyone would see her as a guy at first glance, and probably at second glance too. I just feel more comfortable like this, she’d said, and then it turned out her committed relationship was with a woman. Dean was shocked. Had Sam really been a butch lesbian this whole time? Was what happened between them two years before just a dream?

It didn’t make him any less drawn to her, though. She was still Sam, with her piercing green eyes and sharp intelligence and a level of empathy and kindness that seemed miraculous, given the background she came from. And she was still drawn to him too—their relationship became physical a few weeks into working with each other again.

The closer physical intimacy meant that in the past couple of weeks, Dean has been noticing that some things are seriously off. Sam wears a tight sports bra every time they fuck and refuses to take it off. She barely speaks to him when she’s on her period. Sometimes during what he considers pretty vanilla dirty talk, she shuts off for the night. He chalks it up to hormones, but he knows it’s something more, especially now that she’d had a full breakdown over whatever it is.

“Do you want to talk about it now?” Dean asks, not yet starting in on his burger. He tries to keep his voice gentle and even, to coax her into talking about what’s been bothering her so much.

She sets down her food and pushes it away. She absently taps the table with her finger like she’s trying to decide whether to share what she’s thinking or not. She’s still avoiding looking at Dean, and it’s starting to piss him off that she’s barely acknowledging him.

“Sam, come on,” he says, and his voice comes out harsher than he intends. But he’s tired of her brushing it off and pushing him away when it’s not something that either of them can just ignore. “You can’t just expect me to walk on eggshells around you, hoping that I won’t set you off about something I don’t even understand. Why the hell are you upset?”

Sam shakes her head.

“Come on, man, give me something,” Dean pleads.

Sam swallows. “I’m not who I am, Dean.”

Dean furrows his brow. Sam couldn’t be any more unclear if she tried. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m…” She gestures down at herself. “This isn’t me. It’s not me. I’m not supposed to be like this.”

“Like what?”

“A girl.”

“I don’t get it.”

She takes a long, shaky breath. “I want—I need—to be a man.”

Dean supposes he should be more shocked by her declaration, but Dean has always seen her more as Sam than as a girl. And finding out she feels like a guy… Things just start to click.

All the times Sam had called herself Dean’s brother as a little kid, despite John and Dean’s frequent corrections. Excited chatter about how much she related to the boys in her most recent book. Complaining about not playing soccer at the same time she quit the girls’ soccer team. The complete withdrawal into herself as soon as she hit puberty.

Dean had always figured it was identity confusion because Sam had never had a female role model growing up, but that wasn’t what it was, not really.

And more recently—leaning into anything masculine while distancing herself from femininity. He remembered when a store clerk had called her “sir” the other day, and her face had brightened. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time—it seemed a lot of people mistook Sam as a guy—but it makes sense now why it would make her happy.

“Okay,” he finally says, waiting for her to elaborate.

“‘Okay’?” she asks. “What do you mean, ‘okay’?”

“I guess I don’t understand what this means, exactly.”

“It means…” She sighs, runs a hand through her hair. “I’d be different, Dean. If you were okay with me starting hormones, it would mean I would look different, and sound different, and probably feel and smell different too.”

She laid it all out for him, but he’s still not sure he understands. He has no clue what the changes would look like on Sam specifically. He focuses on the one part of the sentence he did understand. “What do you mean, if I’m okay with it?” he asks. “The Sam I know would never ask permission.”

Sam picks at a fingernail nervously. “I don’t want to lose you,” she says softly.

“You’re not going to lose me, Sam,” Dean tells her. “I’m going to stay with you, I promise.”

“No, Dean, I mean… You’re attracted to women. Just look at Cassie. She was so… And I’m so…” Sam shakes her head as she struggles to find the right words. “I’m going to change and…” Her voice starts to fade as she talks. “You’re not going to want me anymore.”

Dean has no idea what to say. He can’t see any universe where he wouldn’t want Sam. He’s silent for a long moment as he looks at Sam carefully, thinking about what she would look like as a guy. Yes, he loves her body as it is now, the soft curves and smooth skin and feminine moans he pulls from her during sex. So what would it feel like to be with her, if it was different? Stubble and broad shoulders and a dick?

He tilts his head slightly. He’s never sought out guys, never really been interested, but he’d never really been averse to it either. If Sam became a man, Dean’s pretty sure he wouldn’t mind. He would miss some things, but he wouldn’t mind. His attraction to Sam is because she’s Sam, not because she’s a woman.

Sam shifts uncomfortably, his eyes still avoiding Dean’s.

“Hey,” Dean says, and his hand snakes across the table to take Sam’s. “I’m gonna love you no matter what, okay?”

“Yeah, but not like—”

“Yes, like that,” Dean says. “I loved you the way you were when I came to see you in college. I love you the way you are now. I’ll love you no matter what changes you or your body go through, okay?”

Sam’s eyes well up with tears. “Really?” he says softly.

Dean squeezes Sam’s hand and gives him a reassuring smile. “Yeah.”

Sam sniffs. “God, I tell you I feel like a guy and then start crying like a girl.”

Dean stands up and pulls Sam up to his feet too.

“Hey,” he says, taking Sam’s face in his hands and wiping away Sam’s tears with his thumbs. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Dean pulls him into a hug and holds him close while he cries himself out.

Normally they’d look for their next job at the end of a day like today, but they take the night off and talk about where Sam is going to go next. How he’ll get hormones, if he’s going to get surgery, how fast the changes will happen.

Sam gradually starts to open up about it and get more and more excited, and Dean can’t help the warm feeling deep in his core. When Sam is happy, Dean is happy too.

* * *

Dean falls asleep in Sam’s arms that night and only wakes up when the light streaming through the crack in the curtains hits his eyes.

He groans and rolls over so he’s facing Sam. He nudges Sam awake.

“Hey, handsome,” Dean says, and Sam blinks his eyes open sleepily. Sam smiles when he meets Dean’s eyes.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

Dean brushes a messy lock of hair away from Sam’s face. It falls right back into place. “Since you’re a guy now, would it be gay if we fucked?” he asks. He’s excited to try, now that he knows the feminine words to avoid and the masculine words to try out. Now that he knows what will turn Sam off and what might turn him on.

Sam rolls his eyes. “I don’t know, does that bother you?”

“Can’t knock it ’til I’ve tried it,” Dean says. “I’ve always wondered what it’s like to suck a dick.”

Sam raises his eyebrows.

Dean starts to scoot down the bed and looks up at Sam through his eyelashes. “You mind if I give it a try, stud-muffin?”

Sam bites his lip. “Hey, I’d like if you never called me that again, ever.”

“Daddy?”

“Gross, that’s so much worse.”

“Lover boy.”

“Dean.”

“Little brother?”

Sam doesn’t object to that one, so Dean takes it as a green flag. Not a traditional sexual term, but he thinks it’s kind of hot.

While Dean goes down on Sam and listens to Sam’s moans, he realizes this feels right. Sam, a guy. It’s going to take some getting used to, but it fits. Things have changed, but they’re the same; it’s a new chapter, but still the same book.

The Hundredth Time with Him

It’s a few years later, sometime between near-world-ending events, that Dean wakes up in a motel bed with his arm draped over Sam. Dean still likes being the big spoon, no matter that Sam is bigger than Dean now. When Sam started testosterone, he bulked up big time. He’s huge and all muscle, but that doesn’t stop him from snuggling up against Dean.

Dean yawns and strokes his fingers lazily through Sam’s chest hair and Sam hums sleepily. He runs his hand down Sam’s side. Gone are the feminine curves Dean loved about Sam before, smoothed out and adjusted by hormones, but Dean loves the new shape just as much. And ever since the surgery they’d only had to commit light fraud to afford, Dean’s pleased that he can touch Sam’s chest wherever he wants.

Sam rolls over and nuzzles his nose against Dean’s. Dean strokes a thumb along Sam’s jaw, the stubble prickly under the pad of his finger. Dean hadn’t expected so much facial hair growth, but he doesn’t mind it. The scent of Sam’s aftershave turns Dean on just as much as the familiar smell of her vanilla shampoo used to.

“Hey,” Dean says, pressing a light kiss to Sam’s lips. “We should get up.”

“I don’t want to,” Sam mumbles, eyes still closed. He’d been up far past Dean, finishing up on a lead for some research, so Dean doesn’t blame him for wanting to stay in bed.

“Come on. We’ve got work to do. I’ll suck your dick if you come take a shower.”

That seems to do it. Sam groans and rolls out of bed. “Fine.”

Sam is too sleepy to do much himself, but Dean takes his time lathering Sam up with soap, scrubbing him all over his body with a washcloth. Sam is so comfortable in his body now, too, in a way that he never was before. It’s a relief to be able to touch Sam anywhere without Sam turning off or pushing him away.

Dean massages shampoo into Sam’s scalp and grins at the moan it elicits from Sam.

He shuffles around so he’s in front of Sam and gets on his knees, brushing his soaked hair from his eyes. Sam looks down at him through hooded eyes and buries a hand in Dean’s hair. Dean smiles and takes Sam’s dick between his lips, lapping at the tip and water running over it. Sam’s cock is still small, but it’s grown since Sam started hormones, almost an inch and a half long now, sometimes a little more when Sam is hard.

Dean slides two fingers into Sam. He knows Sam’s body almost better than his own, so when he curls his fingers, he finds Sam’s g-spot instantly. “Mm, fuck, Dean,” Sam says, pushing his hips towards Dean.

Dean takes his time, sucking on Sam’s cock and stroking his fingers in Sam, enjoying Sam’s panting and gasps until Sam comes with a moan. Dean feels himself start to get hard as Sam’s pussy clenches around his fingers. Dean runs his tongue along Sam’s cock one more time and then stands up. He meets Sam’s lips with his own. “Worth getting up for?” he murmurs.

“It was… adequate,” Sam says, and Dean punches his shoulder while Sam laughs.

“Last time I ever do anything nice for you,” Dean grumbles.

“Aw, come on,” Sam says, and he tugs Dean in, pressing their bodies close together. Dean leans his forehead against Sam’s and lets out a contented sigh. It crosses Dean’s mind, briefly, how far they’ve come. How far Sam has come.

How everything about Sam is different, except that he’s Sam.

And Sam is all Dean wants.

[caswellprmanager]

the caswell wears prada

read it on ao3!

Summary: EJ's style is simple and functional but Ricky discovers he's capable of more than just letterman jackets and white sneakers. (Part 4 of my trans!ej and genderqueer!ricky AU.)

Author's Notes: I have this little headcanon that EJ used to model baby clothes when he was a baby. Then only went back to modelling once he transitioned to the point he was comfortable enough. Also not me giving Ashlyn's parents a purpose except for just leaving the house empty enough for Ashlyn to throw parties. Hope you guys enjoy!

Warning: Implied Sexual Content at the very end but since it's not explicit, I'll just let y'all use your imaginations.

Ricky has almost exclusively seen EJ in basic white boy clothes. It's usually just a nice fitting t-shirt, some branded jacket, jeans, and branded sneakers. It's not exactly avant-garde but Ricky can appreciate the fact that EJ has found a distinct style that's both understated yet elevates his already good looks.

But from what Ricky has learned in the few months that they've been dating EJ is that just because he dresses like that, it doesn't mean EJ does not have an eye for fashion.

Ricky learned this one day when the two of them were hanging out with Gina and Ashlyn at Ashlyn's house.

Ashlyn's mom was the Editor-In-Chief of an editorial fashion magazine that focuses on highlighting brands that promote sustainable fashion. She also runs a design company herself. Every other minute, she'd be going in and out of her design studio with a phone against her ear and a different meter of fabric in her hands. Her job is also the reason why Ashlyn's parents aren't usually home. Ashlyn's mom would be invited to different fashion events or she'd meet with a client about a new start-up. Ashlyn's dad accompanies her so that she wouldn't overwork herself.

None of that is new to Ricky. What is new, however, is EJ's involvement in her work.

"Ashlyn!" Mrs. Caswell rushes in, a hundred different scarves wrapped around her neck. Ricky wonders if she can breathe beneath all that cashmere and silk. "Darling, I need your help."

"What is it, mom?" Ashlyn asks, pausing the movie the four of them were watching.

Instead of responding, Mrs. Caswell just runs back to her home studio with a hurried click of her heels. Ashlyn looks at the rest of the group with a shrug, moving to stand up until her mom comes rushing back in – this time with a little purple hat perched on her strawberry blond locks.

"EJ, sweetheart! You come too. I need your opinion on a few things." Before any of them could say anything, she's disappeared back into her studio in a flurry of scarves and sequins.

EJ doesn't even bat an eye and moves to follow his cousin out of the living room. Ricky grabs his hand before he could leave, asking him what Ashlyn's mom wants his opinion on. EJ isn't exactly Paris Fashion Week, if Ricky was gonna be honest.

EJ just smiles, placing a chaste kiss on Ricky's lips before saying, "I'll tell you when we get back."

With that statement, Ricky and Gina are left alone, both feeling more confused than before.

"Does that happen often?" Ricky asks Gina, who is picking through the popcorn bowl.

"Ashlyn's mom being weird?" Gina tosses a popcorn kernel up into the air before catching it into her mouth flawlessly. "I've seen Ashlyn help her a few times. But I haven't seen her call EJ into that room before."

"Yeah..." Ricky picks at a loose thread on their jeans. "Didn't really peg EJ as the fashionable type."

Gina pauses in her pursuit of the perfect popcorn kernel and raises a questioning eyebrow towards Ricky. "Hold up... EJ never told you?"

"Told me... what?" Ricky started to panic a little bit. They never liked hearing ominous phrases like that from other people. It fuels their already present anxiety about dating someone who is way out of their league like EJ – someone who could leave Ricky at any time if they realize that Ricky will never be good enough for them.

Gina seems to realize this quickly enough and she tries to diffuse the situation before it gets worse. "Oh! No no no, Ricky, it isn't bad!"

"Then what is it?" Instead of answering, Gina just looks over shoulder at the direction of where the Caswell Cousins went to. After a few seconds of making sure the coast is clear, she tilts her head and motions for Ricky to follow her.

Gina leads Ricky to the spare guest room that EJ occupies sometimes when he doesn't want to sleep at home. In fact, sometimes this room is literally just called EJ's extra room because he's here so frequently. Ricky's napped here a couple of times so it isn't a new place. But he's usually too tired to explore it due to some recent emotional problem or another.

By the far wall is a dresser that Ricky hasn't ever thought to look through. Gina beckons him to come closer as she opens the bottom drawer.

"Ashlyn showed me this when I first moved in. We had to call EJ immediately after because I just had... so many questions." After a few seconds of rummaging, Gina brings out a small stack of magazines triumphantly.

Ricky recognizes the magazines immediately as the same ones Ashlyn's mom is the Editor-In-Chief for.

"Are those...?" Ricky asks and Gina nods excitedly, motioning for him to sit down next to her. The two of them peer through the old issues together, pointing at things they think would look nice on them.

Before they turn to the middle spread, Gina turns to them with a serious look in her eye. "Ricky, I need you to brace yourself."

Ricky tilts their head in confusion. "For what?"

"Just," And Gina can't even hide her giddy little smile. "Get ready."

Ricky can't even bring themself to respond before Gina is showing them the middle spread of the magazine. Their mind skids to a halt when they see a younger EJ staring back at them from the glossy pages, dressed head to toe in the finest three-piece dress suit Ricky's ever seen.

And it isn't just that, EJ's all over the spread – dressed in all kinds of outfits. From gorgeously crafted lace button downs to tastefully styled overcoats – EJ models the shit out of them. Ricky scans the pages in awe because they've never seen EJ wear stuff like this. Sure, they've seen EJ in a suit during homecoming but not one with embroidered roses across the vest or paired with diamond encrusted gold jewelry.

Gina turns the page and Ricky lets out a small gasp.

It's a two page Ashlyn and EJ spread – the cousins looking absolutely ethereal dressed in the most delicate fabric embroidered with flowers along the seams. Their skin is glowing beneath the sunset, the light catching at the highlights on their cheekbones. But what really got to Ricky is one very small but powerful detail:

The flowers along EJ's shirt and the makeup he's wearing are in the trans flag colors.

"Ricky, look." Gina points at the small interview portion at the corner of the page, smiling when Ricky reads it and realizes that it's about EJ.

E.J. Caswell – Teen Transgender Model

"I've been avoiding modeling since I started transitioning and coming back to it was really scary." Says teen model E.J. Caswell. "But when my aunt gave me the opportunity to finally speak my truth through fashion, I knew that I wouldn't regret this decision in the long run."

"There are still so many moments where I hate my body. It's gonna take a while until that goes away. And maybe it won't. Ever." E.J. tells us with a sad smile. "But this is a start – and I get to style some really cool clothes while I'm at it!"

When Ashlyn Caswell was asked about the significance of this project to her cousin and to future transgender models, she smiled softly, making it abundantly clear how much she adores her older cousin. "E.J. is one of the bravest people I know. He's always been an inspiration to me and I'm so proud of him for doing this on his own terms. Plus, I'm really happy he asked me to be a part of it with him. But don't tell him I said that! I'll never hear the end of it."

"She said that?" E.J. said with barely concealed glee. "Aww, Ashlyn!"

Ricky and Gina giggle at the mental image of EJ probably giving an exasperated Ashlyn a big bear hug after his interview. Ricky can't help but stare at the spread again, lightly trailing his finger over EJ's face with a soft smile. He really is so beautiful. Ricky sometimes can't believe that someone as gorgeous as EJ is real.

"Looks like Gina beat me to it."

The sound of EJ's voice by the doorway makes the two of them freeze and turn to see both Caswell cousins looking at them with knowing smiles. But Ashlyn and EJ weren't wearing what they were wearing before Ashlyn's mom called them for help.

Instead, Ashlyn was wearing a floor length pink chiffon dress with embroidered roses scattered along its sleeves and body. EJ was wearing a dress shirt of similar color and material, pairing it with white dress pants and a ruby encrusted rose broach.

"Well look at you two supermodels!" Gina squealed in glee, bounding over to gush over Ashlyn's outfit. Ricky stays rooted in their spot on the floor, their eyes never leaving EJ's. EJ approaches them slowly and takes a seat on the bed next to Ricky. He moves into an effortless pose, making Ricky blush more than necessary.

EJ smiles at them, eyes sparkling mischievously. "Hi."

"H-Hi." Ricky says, moving to face EJ with shaky legs. "You look nice."

"Just nice?" EJ leans down with a smirk, a lock of hair falling to his forehead like some goddamn romance movie. Ricky didn't even notice that even his hair was styled differently. Was EJ growing his hair out? Why didn't he warn me?

"I'd say something dirtier but I don't wanna traumatize the girls." EJ laughs at that and Ricky could only stare at the way EJ throws his head back with the most beautiful smile they've ever seen.

This isn't fair. EJ is sitting here looking like he was plucked straight out of a Vogue magazine while Ricky's sorry ass is on the floor in pajama pants and an old hoodie. Fuck. They should have texted Kourtney for help with their outfit today.

"You're so cute," EJ leans forward even closer, so close that EJ's able to lightly graze their noses together. "Maybe I should dress like this more often to make you blush like that."

Ricky contemplates on the statement for a bit, imagining what it would be like if EJ were to wear more designer clothes to school everyday. EJ right now certainly looks confident and cool. Plus, he gets the added bonus of Ricky looking extra flustered around him.

But at the end of the day, it's EJ's body and EJ gets to choose whatever makes him feel good.

Besides, Ricky fell for EJ without all the bells and whistles.

"You don't have to wear fancy clothes to make me think you're gorgeous." Ricky says before they can stop themself from saying it. But it's out now and there's no turning back. EJ's eyes widen but they eventually soften after processing what Ricky said.

"It doesn't matter what I think, though." Ricky says, reaching for EJ's hand. "What matters is that you're happy. Whether you're wearing a potato sack or Versace. As long as you feel comfortable and you're seeing your favorite self in the mirror, I'll tell you that you're the most handsome boy in the world."

Ricky scoots closer to place a soft kiss on EJ's nose before pressing their foreheads together. Ricky can't really tell who's smiling wider from this angle but they didn't care.

"My handsome boy." Ricky whispers, lightly tracing EJ's bottom lip with their thumb. EJ smiles even wider at the sound of that and it never fails to make Ricky happy seeing EJ so happy.

They're about to move in for another kiss when they hear Ashlyn cough from the doorway.

The two of them separate abruptly, both blushing profusely as the girls giggle behind their hands.

"We'll leave you two alone," Ashlyn says, grabbing Gina's hand to pull her back to the living room. "I'll tell mom you'll be late for dinner."

As soon as the door closes behind the girls, Ricky turns back to a still blushing EJ, a small but urgent thought manifesting to the front of their mind.

"I should take this off-" EJ doesn't even get the chance to finish his sentence before Ricky is pushing him down on the bed and straddling his hips. "R-Ricky?"

Ricky smirks, placing a single finger on EJ's lips as they lean forward to whisper in his ear,

"I'll help you take it off." EJ lets out the smallest whimper at that but Ricky shushes him, blowing against his earlobe. "But you have to be quiet, handsome."

As soon as EJ shakily nods his head yes, Ricky gets to work.

Unfortunately, they're more than a little late for dinner.

---

A/N: I've added some reference pics below if y'all want a better image of what EJ and Ashlyn were wearing hehe :>

[thatsamericano]

I Just Want You To Know Who I Am

Pairing/Characters: America/Romano. Brief appearances from Spain, Belgium, and Veneziano. Background mention of Gerita.

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Mentions of transphobia, misgendering, and gender dysphoria. Some internalized acephobia. The fic is overall very fluffy in tone, and none of the characters are shown dealing with someone who doesn’t accept their sexuality or gender identity.

Summary: Romano didn’t always have the words to tell people who he was, but now that he does, he wants America to know he’s transgender. He’s scared, but he isn’t going to let that stop him anymore.

Word Count: 3065

Savino was glad he had words to succinctly describe who he was now. A long time ago, there hadn’t been words to describe the innate sense of wrongness he felt in his own body, his aversion to the name his grandfather had given him that went beyond his personal issues with the man, or the inexplicable way he’d felt like crying every time someone complimented him by telling him what a pretty little girl he was.

Centuries ago, when he was small, confused, and terrified, he tried to explain it for the first time. Spain was his guardian, and the only person he could turn to. Savino had told Antonio that he didn’t want to wear dresses like Belgium did. He wanted to wear trousers like Spain and have his hair cut like Spain’s too.

“But why?” Spain had asked, brow creased in confusion. “You look so preciosa in the clothes you have now.”

Romano had looked away, ashamed. “I… I don’t want to be preciosa, Spain. I want to be precioso.”

Spain blinked, stunned by what Romano had said. He’d probably never heard of such a thing, but to his credit, he had reacted as well as could be expected. He smiled at Romano and ruffled his hair. “I’ll make you some trousers and a shirt then, mijo.”

“Grazie, Tonio.” There was something that felt so right about Spain calling him mijo, acknowledging him as a son instead of a daughter. He puffed up his chest with a pride he’d never felt before.

“Of course. Should I call you another name too?”

“Just call me Romano for now.” He wasn’t sure of the human name he wanted yet.

Spain had helped so much after Romano told him the truth as he understood it back then. He cut Romano’s hair, dressed him as a boy, and agreed to use the human name Romano eventually decided upon. Spanish and Italian were both gendered languages, and Spain was very good about referring to him with the right endearments and adjectives. He complimented his little henchman just as much as he had before, but he never called him preciosa again.

When Belgium saw him in trousers for the first time, she had naturally been confused. Antonio had rubbed the back of his neck and sheepishly explained how he had been mistaken. Romano had always been a boy, but he hadn’t known. And since he was a boy, he ought to wear boy clothes and have his hair cut like one.

Belgium had bent down closer to his height and told Savino what a handsome boy he was. And that had made him feel so wonderful, to have someone else see him as a boy, especially a beautiful woman like Belgium. Romano had been able to explain everything to her later once he was an adult and had better language to describe who he was. Belgium nodded along with a soft little smile and said she hadn’t known that at the time, but figured it might have been something like that later, when she had been able to reflect on what happened with a better, more modern understanding of transgender people. She agreed to keep it secret for Savino, since it wasn’t something he wanted spread around.

He’d told Veneziano too. By then, he was presenting as a boy and most people believed he was one because they didn’t know he’d ever been considered a girl. Veneziano knew about his past, but it didn’t seem to make a difference to him. “Famiglia is famiglia,” he’d said. “And a fratello’s just as good as a sorella.” After asking for his new human name, Feliciano had hugged him and told him he didn’t need to know anything else unless Savino wanted to share it with him. From that day on, Feli had been just like Tonio. He never spoke to him as if he wasn’t a man, even if the idea of someone like Savino being a man wasn’t well understood at the time.

There were others he’d told over the years, mostly his prospective lovers. Savino couldn’t risk someone being disgusted by the sight of his naked body, so he’d always told them in advance, long before he got involved with them physically. But each time he was taking a huge risk, not just of rejection but of violence. Humans were not kind to men like him, and nations wouldn’t necessarily be either. There were many people he wanted but never pursued for that very reason, and America was one of them.

Alfred seemed kind, and he was a loud and vocal supporter of LGBT rights. He saw himself as a hero, and he truly wanted to make the world a better place for everyone. Once, Alfred had put his arm around Savino’s shoulders and promised that Romano could count on him if he was ever in a fix. Romano had pretended to be annoyed, mostly because he liked America’s arm around his shoulders a little too much.  He liked Alfred a little too much, and he had for decades, ever since he had lived in his house so long ago and grown to feel like Alfred’s place was a home as much as he anywhere that wasn’t South Italy could be. But he couldn’t bring himself to admit he loved him, not now, not when he hadn’t revealed something so important about who he was. It was one thing to be rejected by someone you had a silly crush on that didn’t mean anything, but it was another thing to be rejected by someone you loved. Savino didn’t know if he could survive the latter.

Romano was in such a better place than he’d been when he told Spain that first time, so long ago. He knew who he was and he had words for it that would make sense to other people who had never felt as he did. He’d been living as a man for centuries, and no one had questioned that in a long time. The twentieth century had brought with it medicines and surgeries for men like him, wonderful inventions that could bring his body more in line with his internal sense of himself. Romano still had occasional bouts of dysphoria, but now he could look at his naked body in the mirror without shame. He was mostly fine with who he was these days, and with the long journey he’d taken to get there. But would America be?

There was only one way to find out. Romano frowned down at his phone as he pressed the button to call America. It rang once, twice before America picked up.

“Hey, Little Italy! I’m so glad you called! I’ve been totally bored, and I’ve had no one to talk to all day!”

Romano smirked and decided to tease America a little. He enjoyed teasing him, seeing the way his face would get all red as he shyly glanced away. If only he’d ever been able to kiss Alfred when he was acting like that. “So you were lonely without me, Fredo?”

“I… uh, I didn’t say that. No, ‘cause like I tried to call Mattie, but he was hanging out with the Netherlands and Cuba and was too busy to do anything with his own brother.” Savino just knew that Alfred was pouting and making sad puppy eyes at being “abandoned” by Canada for his friends.

Savino snorted. “Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Feli’s on a date with his macho potato right now.”

Alfred giggled. “Macho potato. I always thought it was so funny when you call him that. But I’ve never really understood why.”

Because I’m jealous, Savino thought. I’m jealous of his height and his muscles, and how he got them so easily. I’m jealous of how he was born to look so macho with hardly any effort, and I’ve had to work so hard just to get where I am right now.

Savino cleared his throat and tried to shove the dysphoric thoughts away. “I don’t fucking know. He likes potatoes, and he likes to pretend he’s Mr. Macho Man. Do I need another reason?”

“Nah, that makes sense, I guess. But you can be pretty macho too. I still remember that one time on Halloween you dressed up as the Grandma from Little Red Riding Hood.” America paused, and Romano could hear him letting out a long sigh over the phone line. “You were wearing a dress, but like in a manly way? I don’t know how to explain it, but it was macho of you. Very macho.”

Dio, Alfred sounded turned on just from the memory of it. Savino remembered that costume. Spain and Belgium had both been surprised when he volunteered to dress up as the Grandma in keeping with their Little Red Riding Hood theme, and Spain had even pulled him aside to make sure he was comfortable wearing a dress, given how much it had bothered him as a child. But Romano had explained it was different this time. He was dressing up as a character, not him, and it was just that one night. Romano had worn sunglasses and toted in a gun to feel more tough and manly, and no one mistook his for a little old woman. That costume now hung in the back of his closet, behind the suit separates and shirts that were his normal, daily attire. Savino had considered finding selling the costume on eBay or donating it to an organization that took women’s clothing since he’d probably never wear it again.

But if he could make Alfred sound like that again, maybe Savino would hold onto the dress.

“Vinny? You still there?”

“Yeah, sorry. I just drifted off for a minute there.” His hand moved through the air like he was sweeping cobwebs out of his mind.

“It’s cool. Oh! Speaking of costumes, Japan was talking about this awesome anime convention in Tokyo next month. Hopefully my boss will give me enough time off for me to go, because it sounds amazing.”

Romano smiled at America’s enthusiasm. “I hope so too.”

Alfred launched into an excited discussion of all the characters he might cosplay as at the convention if he got to go. Romano didn’t know many of them, and America was speaking so fast he couldn’t hear the names of all of them, but he listened attentively regardless.

This was nice, Romano reflected. His friendship with America was warm, safe, and comfortable. He could listen to Alfred talk about something that made him happy for hours on end. If he didn’t say anything, never brought up the real reason he had called Alfred, it could stay this way forever.

But the thing was that he would gladly listen to Alfred talk about something that made him happy for hours on end. That Alfred made him feel warm, safe, and comfortable just by being himself. He was so close to letting himself fall in love with the idiota, and there was only one thing stopping him.

Savino broke into the middle of Alfred’s sentence. “Alfredo, I need to tell you something.”

“Is it something bad? You sound really scared. Is someone hurting you? Whose ass do I have to kick?”

“No… no one is. I’m fine. This is just really hard for me to say.” It had been so difficult each time. With Spain, Veneziano, and Belgium, he didn’t have words for it, and he had to explain himself in painful, drawn out sentences that didn’t always reflect the truth he knew in his heart (like telling Belgium he had been born a girl, when he’d never really felt like one). He was afraid of being rejected by people who mattered to him, and he was afraid they might not even comprehend what he was trying to tell them. Now, Savino had words, but that didn’t make him any less scared of losing someone who mattered to him.

“What is it?” Alfred asked gently.

He took a deep breath, in and out, then bit the bullet. “I’m transgender.”

Savino tried not to panic in the stunned silence than followed. Luckily that silence only lasted a few seconds. “Oh, wow, that’s… that’s awesome!”

Romano laughed in relief. “It is?”

“Of course it is, dude! I am so proud of you, and I am so glad you felt comfortable enough to share that with me!”

Savino closed his eyes, feeling that last barrier to falling in love with Alfred giving way. “You made it easy for me to feel comfortable, caro.”

“Umm, can I ask you a question?” Alfred’s voice sounded hesitant and strained. “I promise it won’t be too weird.”

“Sure, I guess.” Savino frowned and brushed some imaginary dust off his knee. People could ask invasive questions when someone revealed they were trans, but that didn’t sound like what Alfred was planning to do.

“What kind of transgender person are you? Because I just called you dude, but only because I called you dude so many times before and didn’t know it was wrong. I’d never intentionally misgender someone right after they came out to me. That would be epically shitty of me.” Alfred seemed worried and apologetic.

“It’s okay. I’m a trans guy, so you can call me dude if you want to.”

“Thank God! For a second, I thought I’d fucked up really badly. He/him pronouns still okay?”

“Yeah.”

“What about your name, Savino? And the nicknames I give you, Vinny and Little Italy?”

Savino grinned. “Yes. And I don’t even know why you’re worried about Little Italy. That has nothing to do with my gender.”

Alfred chuckled. “I figured I should make sure, just in case.”

“I’m glad I decided to tell you today,” Romano said. “I wanted to tell you before, but I was scared. You didn’t seem like you’d have a bad reaction, but it’s a hard thing to talk about, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Alfred paused, and it felt like he was preparing to say something important. Savino waited until he was ready. “I’m uhh… queer, I guess? I’m not really sure what to call myself.”

Savino smiled sadly at the insecurity he could hear in Alfred’s voice. “That’s okay. For a long time, I didn’t know what to call myself either.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t have.” America sighed, and he sounded distressed. “It’s… fuck, I don’t even know how to explain this. For most of my life, I thought I was asexual. Well, actually, I thought I was broken and that there was something wrong with me, but I’m trying not to feel that way anymore.”

“There is nothing wrong with you.” Damn it, he wished America wasn’t on another continent so he could hug him. He could probably use a hug right now.

“But then there was this guy. This one amazing, wonderful, really special guy.” Alfred laughed softly, thinking about whatever lucky bastard he was obviously in love with, and Savino wondered who it might be. Lithuania? Japan? Prussia? South Korea? America was close to a lot of people.

Or maybe it was him. Maybe he was the lucky bastard.

“He’s the only person I’ve ever, umm, wanted that way,” America continued. “I don’t think it’s because he’s a guy, because I’m not into guys generally, and I’m not into girls either. But I do like the specific ways he is a guy, so maybe I’m gay? I don’t know.”

“That’s fine, Fredo. You don’t have to label yourself if you don’t want to.” No wonder America was so confused. He had only liked one person his entire life. That wasn’t much information to determine your sexuality on.

“I really appreciate you saying that, but I wish I could label myself. All my other friends seem to know what genders they’re into, and it feels kind of weird that I don’t.”

“Well, you seem to be fixated on this one particular person. Do you think anything would be different if the guy you told me about had been a girl instead?” Romano wanted to help America figure this out, since his uncertainty seemed to be bothering him. This was the only way Romano could think of.

America thought it over. “I guess I still don’t know,” he answered quietly. His volume was more typical of Canada than what Romano was used to from America. “When you told me you were transgender and I wasn’t sure how you were transgender, I was more worried about hurting you than if I’d still think you were hot as a girl.”

Savino teared up. He was the lucky bastard after all. “Alfredo, you…”

“Crap, I didn’t make things weird, did I?! We can totally go back and pretend I didn’t say anything. You know me, open mouth, insert foot.” Alfred laughed shakily.

“I don’t want to go back and pretend you didn’t say anything. You know what I really want, idiota? I want to kiss the hell out of you, like I’ve wanted to kiss you for years. But I’d have to get on a goddamn plane and be trapped in a tin can of death with hundreds of other passengers for several hours to make that happen.” Romano hated flying, but he was willing to consider it.

“Or I could fly to see you. I’ve got a private jet, so I wouldn’t have to waste time going through airport security.”

Romano grinned. “That works too.”

“Can I call you back in a little bit? I need to call my boss to make sure he can spare me for a few days while I fly out to see you.”

“Sure, tesoro. Talk to you soon.”

Alfred hung up the phone, and Savino set his phone down on the table in front of him. Coming out to America had gone much better than he could’ve expected. Romano was glad he didn’t have that burden on his shoulders anymore, and he was hoping America would call back in a few minutes to let him know his boss’s decision. If he couldn’t be spared for a few days and Romano’s boss wouldn’t let him go either, they would have to find some way around that. As far as Romano was concerned, he’d been waiting more than long enough as it was, and he wasn’t going to wait any longer than he had to.

[binch-i-might-be]

but how does alexander BREATHE??????? like, I've heard that you're not supposed to wear an actual binder for more than 8 hours and you can't exercise or work out at ALL, plus you can't sleep

so not only is your lil hammy boi binding with B A N D A G E S (which are very dangerous but ig there was no option back then) but he also has to do all that military shit?!?!?!?! HOW DOES THIS MAN BREATHE?? ARE HIS LUNGS OKAY? GIVE HIM SOME WATER PLEASE

also, how did alex come out? like, ik how he did it to washingdad but there must have been people who knew about general washington's children. how did they explain away the fact that they suddenly didn't have a daughter anymore?

also, does alex in your fic have long hair or short hair? it was mentioned in Alexander that he cut it, right? but since this is the musical fic he would have a ponytail as he does onstage? or did you make him have short hair? i was wondering because, y'know, dysphoria n shit

oh and another thing. so did john previously had ANY knowledge at all of transgender people's existence, or did he just basically understand that his bf was not born as a guy and was completely fine with it?

btw this is the same fanfic-reading anon who threatened to throw you into a canyon, I've returned with a slightly less passive-aggressive tone and more questions hehe

HI BESTIE SO GOOD TO SEE YOU

love how you always just get straight to the point lmao

oh, you should ABSOLUTELY not wear a binder for more than eight hours at a time, and exercise and sleep is a big nono!

the answer is of course... breathing exercises. lots and lots of breathing exercises :')

don't get me wrong that little fool was definitely on the verge of just passing out before in battle, and he did walk away with severe bruising every time, no matter how loose he was binding :/

as an aide he has to basically sit all day, so that's a bit better! it's still far from perfect tho

okay, how did he come out to like, people adjacent to his family?

he didn't :) lemme explain:

you got little eleven/twelve year old Alexander, hair freshly cut and in new fancy Boy Clothes™, going about his business around town with his Pa.

so. people will obviously see them. people know the Washingtons; they're good citizens, honest, fair, Washington let's older kids of the locals work summers on his plantation to get them some income, which is a sweet gig! they are a valued part of society!

...Washington did come home from an employment with a child a few years ago. a little girl. no one ever addressed it, but it was pretty clear she was his bastard. ah well. the child was obviously born before he got married, so he didn't cheat on his wife. they could forgive that.

so. now that little girl looks like a boy.

people attempt to ask him about it! tell him "yo George idk if you've noticed but your daughter is wearing pants"

Washington just stands there, says "his name is Alexander" and. stares. stares like only a military commander can, straight into the person's soul, daring them to say anything else, give him a reason to put them on his shitlist.

they all learn very quickly not to mention it :)

Alex has long hair! I mean kinda, just a little longer than shoulder-length. back then, it was typical for men to have somewhat long hair, right? it's just not as long as a woman might wear it :)

it wasn't that John straight up knew about the concept, but as I've stated before, for him as a gay man, it's not a difficult connection to make, so yeah, he basically just accepted it!

also I love the headcanon that's actually based in history that his little sister Polly struggled with gender, so he would have some framework of that concept already psst my homie @quillsink is working on a very angsty fic about historical John and Polly rn ;)

I love you either way, anon! you are always welcome here, with questions or just to threaten to yeet me into a canyon <3

[starship-imzadi]

S5 E17 The Outcast

Androgyny is defined as having both male and female characteristics so that a specific gender cannot be determined.

Jonathan Frakes has reportedly gone on record to express his belief that Soren should have been cast with a male actor as it would have sent a stronger message. And I absolutely agree.

As it is, Soren identifies as a woman and is played by a woman which is just reestablishing a heteronormative status quo. In fact, all of the credited cast who portray the J'naii are women.

I have a problem with this. Often times the dichotomy of western heterosexual gendering is seen as "the haves and the have nots". E.g. men have body hair, women do not (which is absolutely untrue). Women are emotional, men are not (also absolutely untrue). Women as "the weaker sex" are often seen as "without" and androgyny is sometimes construed as being more "without" because it's supposed to be lacking the characteristics that give definition or.... features that are identifiable as a certain gender. Casting all women to be androgynous is, in a way, sexist for this reason. Though the non speaking and background J'naii are far enough away they seem less defined and more androgynous (some might be cast with men but it's not possible to tell...which is the way it should be).

Okay...so, Riker gets a bad rap for his struggle with pronouns and misgendering BUT what he's doing is actually incredibly important and valuable. Riker is canonically an American, heterosexual, cis gendered, Caucasian, male. He is the character that the most privileged, and most represented demographic will see themselves in and relate to. He is put in a position where he doesn't understand the experience of the person opposite him, he's trying his best and he makes mistakes, but he's also demonstrating that he's open to learning.

I've also seen some small uproar, especially from younger viewers (I'm looking at anyone born after the year 2000) over the writers not using they/them pronouns "I do not think there is really a translation". It is true that "they" as a pronoun to refer to a non specific person in common speech has been in use since the time of Shakespeare. Up until women's suffrage in legal context the pronoun used was "he" without specifically meaning a man. I.e. those pronouns were place holders for an unknown person regardless of gender or sex. Non masculine or feminine pronouns used to refer to a known individual is a slightly different story. There have been many different pronouns developed and used to greater or lesser extent through the entire 20th century (e.g. Hir or Xe) However, none of them really caught on for regular use across the entire language. "They" has been adopted most successfully because it is already in the language but its prominent use and acceptance wasn't until between approximately 2013 and 2015. This episode aired in 1992.

I really like that early on Soren and Riker are given an established shared interest. Too often on this show two people are put together....and it's not clear why they like each other. In such a short span of time it's tough to establish a believable new relationship, but this is a good first step.

They've known each other two days? It is reminiscent of "The Masterpiece Society" just a few episodes ago where Troi started to fall in love after five days. (Maybe they're both just very loving people.)

Also, in the midst of the misgendering, I'm pleased that the writers (or whoever) chose for Riker to use "he" because it plays against this species that's supposed to be androgynous but... Have a tendency to look feminine.

Riker's dad had a recipe for split pea soup...I wonder when he ever cooked it though. Riker mentions that it's good for cold Alaskan nights and it's the second episode in recent memory of his mentioning that he's from Alaska (the other was "Conundrum") I can't actually remember it being mentioned prior to that episode.... though there's a good chance it was established in the "Icarus Factor" and i know it's mentioned again in "Lower Decks"

A lot of the focus on this episode from fans seems to be on Soren being transgender but the J"aii are also homosexual. Riker and Soren have two different paradigms that are represented as neither worse nor better nor even given a moral label, they're just different. (Although, the J'naii's insistence that Soren cannot be male or female in gender or sex, is clearly meant to be the reciprocal of any insistence by humans that we can only be male or female in gender and sex.)

"I like one who's intelligent, sure of herself, who I can talk with and get something back. But the most important thing of all, she has to laugh at my jokes."

This conversation has a great sub text: different men like different things in women (and vis versa) so for someone to even identify as "heterosexual" doesn't mean every member of a different sex is attractive to them. And it begs the question: why are so many people with different qualities all under the same gender "umbrella"?

I've seen screen caps of Soren asking about human male genitals but they only show Riker's surprise. Really he deserves more credit because he handles the question really well. The way he handles everything very kindly and graciously, and the fact that Soren continues to ask questions, is a real testament to the safe place that he makes for discussion and curiosity.

There's some... dark humour in how Star Trek talks about misogyny and sexism. It's one of the notable hypocrisies and failings in star trek: to talk about a better future, while still operating on damaging ideals, and without any real idea of the journey it would actually take for society to reach "better". Both Gate and Marina had struggles with how they and their characters were treated compared to the men.

Oh boy. Worf's sexism fluctuates a lot, but when they need someone to be a misogynist, Worf is the go to and it's always painful. And Data asks the innocent, child-like questions. With a scene like this there are unfortunate reflection on some of the characters BUT the main purpose of the scene is, a slightly heavy handed, means of proposing different view points for representation and comparison. It's not really about the characters at all.

I'll say just from experience with that long hours spent working together will create some sort of bond for pretty much any two people. Love or other wise.

This scene is clearly about Soren coming out to Riker. And he takes it as kindly as he has everything else so far.

Geordi has a beard! (LeVar apparently grew it for his wedding)

"good hunting commander"

"thank you sir. See you for dinner." Do Riker and Picard have dinner together? (I love a good found family shared meal).

I really like this scene between Will and Deanna.

"well this one looks like you" with the teddy bear absolutely gets me every time. And Deanna's side look! I love their friendship and comfort together.

"You're my friend and I thought... I don't know, i thought I should tell you."

"I'm glad you did"

"Nothing will change between us, will it?"

"Of course it will. All relationships are constantly changing. But we'll still be friends, maybe better friends. You're a part of my life, and I'm a part of yours. That much will always be true."

This really hits home. Regardless of the label for their relationship, regardless of the details of the boundaries of their relationship, Troi is affirming for Riker that they are important enough to each other, that he is important enough to her, that she will stay in his life and keep him in hers. In a way this touches on what was established way back "Haven". The characterizations were still being sorted out to a large extent, but when Troi was due to be married Riker thought he was losing her and Troi ask him "i am no longer imzadi to you?" But even as much as they love each other, Riker isn't taking for granted that Troi will stay in his life once he becomes involved with someone. Troi is assuring him, promising to him, that she will stay. And the fact that Riker went to her, to tell her about him and Soren, was his way of demonstrating to Troi that she is still important to him, and that he wants to keep her in his life too.

Props to Riker for protecting Soren. Not only did he keep her secret he tried to help her preserve it.

This is a really good and impassioned speech that, even though its clearly about legislation against homosexuality, doesn't feel over the top like a lot of star trek speeches can. It's probably one of the better speeches not given by Picard.

This is the second episode in a row Riker has gone to Picard for guidance...kind of.

It's kind of sweet that Worf offers as a friend to help Riker jeopardize his career, for the sake of someone important to him, even though he doesn't like or understand the J'naii.

In the end, the Enterprise must maintain its status quo, so much like "The Host", there had to be a reason then love interest cannot stay. Even if the reason is honestly so disheartening and sad. I genuinely believe Riker cared for Soren, and this is so devastating. This was probably the best single episode relationship in terms of development.

Picard is so gentle and subtle with Riker.

Engage (!)

[writeanapocalae]

A Guide for Writing Trans People

Written by a Trans Man. 

I’ve seen a lot of different posts on how to write trans characters (absolutely none on how to write cis characters and I am so lost on how to do that oh my goodness) but maybe I’ve got a different perspective and maybe I’ve got something you haven’t heard before. Let’s go! 

Terminology

There are a lot of different genders out there, not just male and female. Some people think Trans men and women are some outside of the binary extra gender, which is very much not true. While many trans people do fall outside the binary, there are a lot who are strictly male or female. Therefore their genders are male and female. The trans part is not part of the word, it is a definer to state that the person is transitioning, that is all. So when you write trans man or trans woman the words are separate, not transman or transwoman. 

A trans man is someone who is transitioning his appearance for society to view him as male. 

A trans woman is someone who is transitioning her appearance for society to view her as female. 

The reason I am wording it this way is because they were already their genders. They have always been their genders. Transitioning is greatly influenced by the way we are treated by society, the same way that beauty standards influence people to contour and get surgeries and whatnot. 

Demi means mostly in terms of gender so a demi boy is someone who is male most of the time and a demi girl is someone who is female most of the time. 

Agender is someone who has no gender

Genderfluid is someone who shifts from gender to gender

Genderqueer is someone who’s gender is nondefined by other terms

Two Spirit is a third gender that encapsulates masculinity and femininity (according to Wikipedia) that is only used by Native Americans 

Third Gender is a gender that can encapsulate or be a completely different solid gender like male or female

Nonbinary is someone who is somewhere on the spectrum between genders and their gender is defined by them 

Pangender is someone who has all genders

Androgyny is not something that actually relates to gender as much as it does presentation. Presentation does not inherently tell you someone’s gender. Being androgynous just means that someone fits right in the middle of societies expectations of male and female and their AGAB cannot be guessed by onlookers. 

AGAB AFAB and AMAB mean Assigned Gender At Birth, Assigned Female At Birth, and Assigned Male At Birth. At birth someone will often assign a gender to a baby based on their genitals and parents tend to show off what sort of genitals their baby has with accessories and colors. Pretty creepy if you ask me. 

FTM and MTF has been deemed problematic but many still use them. They mean Female to Male and Male to Female. The terminology states that the person’s AGAB is their initial gender and they are becoming the opposite when, as stated before, it’s more that they were always their gender and now society has to catch up. 

Gender Nonconformity can be practiced by anyone regardless of gender. It just means that they do things that aren’t expected of someone of their gender like men wearing skirts (for some reason?) or women growing beards or a nonbinary person not being androgynous (for some reason that’s become an expectation)

Intersex is not a part of the trans umbrella, even though it is often lumped in and people who are intersex can also be trans. It is a sex (different from gender) in which different parts of genitals and chromosomes and hormones are produced in a way that deviates from the norm. Many intersex people undergo genital reconstruction or reduction surgery when they are infants (and can’t consent) in order to fit the mold better. Intersex people can be cis. 

Cis just means that someone agrees with the people who assigned them a gender when they were a baby and how society treats them. 

Slurs: Don’t use them. There are a lot. If you see it in a porn category you probably should stay away from it. 

Pronouns

Pronouns are highly personal and can be a myriad of things so I will not be going over all of them. They do not always match presentation (a long haired man with breasts is still a man) and many people will use multiple sets of pronouns or fluctuate between them for what they feel most comfortable with. 

Common pronouns are: they/them, he/him, she/her

Less common pronouns are: xi/xir, fae/faer, it/its, e/em, per/pers, ve/vir, zie/hir

Neopronouns: People make up pronouns all the time since they are personal and these new pronouns are just as valid as any others. Someone made up his and hers after all. When making neopronouns the main thing to be aware of is consistency. You want the different forms of conjugation to make sense and you want to spell them the same way every time. 

Appearance

As has already been stated, there’s no correlation between gender presentation and gender and many trans people are unable to present the way they want to due to the economy, genetics, health, or community. Still, people do what they can to pass or feel comfortable in their body and these things need to be in mind during descriptions. People tend to think of the slight things that make people not pass are unattractive and will point out a woman’s 5 o’clock shadow or a man’s high pitched voice as flaws. These things do not necessarily need to be skipped over but they can be described in a way that doesn’t distract from the characters gender. 

Try to stop thinking of an hourglass shape as an intrinsically feminine trait and height as an inherently masculine one. There are cis women with full beards and cis men with round jaws. Exploring different features, combining them, and seeing how they meld will give your characters more depth and help with differentiating them from one another. A good rule of thumb is, if you mention something that people don’t immediately clock as the characters gender, describe it as gender accurate. 

Misgendering

This is another one that I would say don’t do but there are characters who the writers don’t always agree with. Misgendering is extremely harmful, puts trans people’s lives in danger, and can out them without their permission. The narrator should never misgender a character unless the character does not realize they are trans until the story is underway but this should be rare. The trans character would have no reason to ever misgender themself and may talk about how they presented in the past but will, most likely, still refer to themself with the correct gender. The POV character may misgender a trans character upon meeting them but after being corrected should fix their behavior unless you want your audience to dislike the POV character. Friends of the trans character should not misgender the character unless they are in a situation in which being correctly gendered would bring them harm, otherwise they’re not good friends. Family may misgender the trans character if they are not out or if the family members are terrible people. 

Dysphoria/Euphoria

Dysphoria is when there’s a painful discrepancy between mind and body, like when someone knows they are one way but they don’t look the way they feel. Misgendering can be a large cause of dysphoria, as can hearing a recording of their voice, reflections, binding and tucking not hiding what the individual may want to hide, height, muscle structure, bone structure, etc. 

Euphoria is the exact opposite of this. It is an extreme sensation of peace and joy in personal gender presentation. This can be caused by hormone replacement therapy, correct gendering, presenting in a way that feels natural, and acceptance. 

Dysphoria is not necessary for being transgender. 

Social Groups

Look around your friend group. Notice anything eerie? Notice how most of your friends are similar to you in a lot of ways, especially IRL friends? They’re people that you trust and expect to keep you safe while having a fun time with because you share interests and experiences with. Same for trans people. This is why, if you look at my friend group there’s 2 genderfluid, 1 agender, 1 nonbinary, 2 trans women, 1 trans man, and 1 cis man (who’s a cousin). If you have just 1 trans character in a group of friends it is going to read as a need for diversity points and that character is less likely to feel safe with discussing trans issues due to no one around them being able to relate.

Outing 

This is one that a lot of people have a hard time with and even trans writers mess up a lot. We all know the infamous scene of someone walking in on a trans person changing and, hopefully, we know that this is not only cliche but actually harmful as it tends to lead to the idea of “lying” when it’s really just not anyone’s business and that trans bodies must be on display. I would say that you shouldn’t have to out your character because coming out is dangerous for real trans people in a lot of situations and it normalizes the idea that trans people must doxx themselves at any moment but due to the lack of representation and the nature of novels, you pretty much have to out your characters. No amount of subtext will be as beneficial to a trans reader as cementing the fact that there’s someone they can relate to in canon. Luckily outing a trans character is a lot easier than people think. 

Some of us can’t shut up. A lot of trans people will hint at it a lot and just flat out say it if they’re in similar company. If we see people who we feel confident are also queer we often drop hints that we understand we’re safe, they can come to us (especially in a retail setting), because we want a community. The amount I bring up my masculinity is very very often, to the point I’m surprised people aren’t annoyed with me. I don’t pass very well so I wear a lot of brightly colored buttons that explicitly state my pronouns. There’s also this very strong urge to correct people who use gendered language for things that don’t need gender (like sexual organs and menstrual cycles). There’s nothing wrong with just saying that a character is trans. 

Resources

The best thing you can do for your story is research. The trans people you know are not google and they do not deserve to be treated like google. You can use google. Here’s some stuff I found on google: 

Dummies | Transequality | EverydayFeminism | Scriptlgbt

But no matter how much research you do it’s not going to be as useful as a sensitivity reader. Once your story is complete ask people to read it as beta readers and sensitivity readers and listen to the people that fit your minority characters. 

Some musicians to check out for inspiration

I have to recommend music. I wouldn’t be myself if I didn’t. 

Agender: Angel Haze | Mood Killer

Androgyne: Florian- Ayala Flora | 

Genderfluid: Aja | Miley Cyrus | Dorian Electra | Jana Hunter | Ruby Rose |  Sons of an Illustrious Father | Eliot Sumner | Maxine Feldman | Chester Lockhart 

Genderqueer: Sopor Aeternus | CN Lester | Planningtorock | Chris Pureka | Sam Smith | Rae Spoon | Vaginal Davis | Ezra Furman | Randa | Vivek Shraya

Genderneutral: Grimes | 

Nonbinary: Arca | Mal Blum | Justin Vivian Bond | Adore Delano | Grey Gritt | Rose McGowan | Shamir | T Thomason | Beth Jean Houghton | Openside | Fraxiom 

Pandrogyne: Genesis P-orridge 

Trans Man: Alexander James Adams | Bettens | Little Axe and the Golden Echoes | Cidney Bullens | Meryn Cadell | Ryan Cassata | Quinn Christopherson | Beverly Glenn Copeland | Quinn Marston | Clyde Peterson | Schmekel | Lucas Silveira | Billy Tipton 

Trans Woman: 1.8.7. | Nadia Almada | Vacancy Chain | Barbra Amesbury | anohni | Estelle Asmodelle | Backxwash | Mykki Blanco | Namoli Brennet | Tona Brown | Sara Davis Buechner | Mya Byrne | The Neptune Darlings | Simona Castricum | Lili Chen | Jessie Chung | Coccinelle | Jayne County | Bulent Ersoy | Deena Kaye Rose | Bibi Anderson | Marci Free |  Teddy Geiger | Gila Goldstein | Laurie Jane Grace | Romy Haag | Ai Haruna | Juliana Huxtable | Mila Jam | Christine Jorgensen | Lady | Left@London | Amanda Lapore | Liniker | Jennifer Maidman | Michete | Trevi Moran | Angela Morley | Ataru Nakamura | Octo Octa | Dee Palmer | Kim Petras | Axis of Awesome | Katey Red | Patricia Ribeiro | Danica Roem | Jackie Shane | Breanna Synclaire | Sophie | Ramon Te Wake | Terre Thaemlitz | Cindy Thai Tai | Titicia | Venus Flytrap 

Two Spirit: Tony Enos | Cris Derksen

[tipsydipsydo]

Just let me love him! 

Request: "hey! may i request an imagine where namjoon has a boyfriend (male transgender) and they decide to make their relationship public but maybe not all the fans being supportive / respectful of it? and namjoon rlly pissed off by the comments online and making posts to half educate them & half being shady haha thank u :("

Requested by: anonymous

Pairing: Namjoon x transgender Reader

Gender of the Reader: male

Word Count: 3k

Genre: Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Fluff

Warnings: mentions of Homophobia and Transphobia; mentions of hate towards the LGBTQ+ Community

A/N: Well... what should I say? I think I'll write every request individually without specify how long my writings would be. It really depends on my own idea for that request. This here took some time because I had to make some research and thought a lot about, how I want to write it.

That's also the reason why it ends up to be so long, because it was important for me to write that really long statement that Namjoons makes in here in the full version.

[Links]:

My Masterlist for your requests!

My official Blog Navigation!

I hope you all will like it! 💕

(Even when I researched things, when there is something that doesn't fit so well into the fic, please inform me 🤗)

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

He should have guessed it. He should have noticed it, before the vlog would be uploaded. No, he should have known it! He should have known that it'll happen when this information gets to the public.

And at the same time he should have known that there are also some black sheeps among the ARMYs.

Although the large majority is very open, liberal and supportive, there are still some people who call themselves an "Army" and "support" them, but they're also very open when they don't like something.

It could be their new outfit, their new haircut or, like now, their lifestyle and their relationships. When something deviates from their idealized image, which means that his members and he no longer correspond to the overly perfect image of that Army, they start hating.

There aren't many, but they still exist. Sadly.

And all of that just starts because of a scene and the one sentence he had said to explain it.

Yesterday he uploaded a self-made vlog on the occasion of his birthday, in which he simply wanted to take the Armys through his day and show them, how he's spending his birthday this year. Nothing "bad", right?

You two made your relationship public three months ago. Of course, after this public announcement, the excitement was big and pretty much every korean and even some international boulevard magazines as well reported about it. Who could ever have guessed that there will be a young man at the side of the world known K-Pop Idol Kim Namjoon instead of a woman??

The biggest gossip subsided after a week and since two months pretty much everything turned out to be quite normal again. Namjoon and you get a lot of encouragement and support for your relationship from the vast majority of fans, you already have an official shipping name (and Namjoon has to admit that it sounds really cute!) Beside that, fanarts of you two have been already created, based on the few couple pictures that Namjoon recently posted in their Twitter account.

However, Namjoon "only" introduced you as his boyfriend. He hadn't told the whole publicity that you were transgender and "actually biologically a woman". Why should he?

You identify yourself as a boy, just you weren't born as such, which is why you want to adapt your gender to your actual identity. It's not more than that and all that just means that you are his boyfriend, nothing else.

Joon just introduced you as his partner and not that you are female to male transgender because that has actually nothing to do with your relationship.

And then there was the thing with his birthday vlog. He had thought that this little thing wouldn't attract attention, probably because it had become so normal for him.

You brunched together in a restaurant on the day of his birthday, enjoyed the good food together and laughed a lot. Really nothing so unusual when you go out to with your partner.

This was followed by the fateful scene that has caused all of these comments now.

You two were so deep in your conversation that you completely forgot to pay attention to the time. However, you still had a doctor's appointment that day, which is why you rushed out of the restaurant in a hurry.

You just noticed it a bit too late that you'll have a doctor's appointment for your next testosterone injection on Namjoon's birthday. But you could't and didn't even want to re-arrange a new appointement because you need the renewal in a relativly regular interval.

So the vlog only showed a few seconds where you two sprint stressed but also laughing to a taxi, so that you'd somehow still belong halfway to your actual time of the appointment in the doctor's office.

When you get your injection, Joonie waits for you in the empty waiting room and explain shortly in the vlog, why this appointment is so important.

"Unfortunately, my sweetheart was born in the wrong body and to be able that he can live with his correct gender identity, he has to go to the doctor to get his dosis of testosterone."

And that was it actually. After that you went back to your shared apartement, where the boys surprised Namjoon with a little birthday party. Congratulated their leader for getting older and then unpack all the presents together. With it, the vlog was uploaded. Namjoon and the boys had given no further thought to this "new piece of information" that turned out be the reason for these controversial comments under his vlog. Simply because it's already become normal for everyone. You are a transgender, but you're just Namjoon's Boyfriend for everyone. Nothing more.

Nevertheless, some "fans" don't see it that way, they even starts questioning if it's correct to call you Namjoon's "boyfriend" because you just can't be a "real boy". After this comment all the other ones only got even more worse.

Namjoon got the opportunity to read the comments when he already was on his way to the studio. He had wondered this morning why you were so silent and inwardly at breakfast. He had ask you gently if something happed or if you're not feeling well. But you just shook your head and said that you slept badly. Namjoon doesn't ask further because he was sure, that you woulf know that you can always be completely honest with him. And Namjoon doesn't want to blame you, that you would be lying to him, so he just gives you a loving smile.

How wrong he was when he read through all these awful comments under the vlog.

The other members have seen these comments too, they're so damn furious, with what kind of words you're called in there and that some of the them wished that Namjoon would please break up with you.

They should've trained the new choreography today, but this incident is now much more important and the way how they want to deal with it. They came to the decision to make a clear statement.

Actually it's planned that Jimin make a vlive today, but they decide that Namjoon should make it instead due to the situation.

He himself is not so sure yet whether he should really do it today, the anger about these disrespectful comments is still too big and he cannot promise not to say rude things to the fans himself as well. He wants to give them a better role model than to hate each other. However, he's becoming more and more aware of the importance of publishing his vlive today.

Because you're his boyfriend and through your relationship, you get so much more attention, which unfortunately also increases the possibility of harrassing you, for what you are, a lot more. He brought you into this situation, so Namjoon also feels obliged to stand up for you and show you that he's absolutely not going to accept something like that!

In addition, it's so important to him and all the other members to show that they will accept hate and harrassing of LGBTQ+ people in no way.

It breaks Namjoon's heart when he comes home and sees your red, swollen eyes, testifying that you cried. He had tried countless times to contact you throughout the day, but you neither answered his calls nor his text messages.

The last time when you were online in the messenger was tonight. Probably when you read all these terrible comments.

"Hey baby...", Namjoon whispers softly as he comes up to you and closes his arms around your body, pressing you tightly, almost protectively against his chest.

"I know what happened. I read everything."

With these words your body begins to tremble in his arms, you press your face into the crook of his neck and a little sob comes from your lips.

Namjoon holds you, strokes his fingers gently through your hair and whispers sweet nothings into your ear to calm you down.

You take a trembling breath in and say in a broken voice: "I am so sorry that I am causing you and the others such problems..."

When these words comes over your lips, Namjoon takes your tear-streaked face in his hands and gently kisses your tears away.

"No, no, no, my love! Don't say things like that, they're absolutely not true! You are not the problem, definitely not! The problem are these people out there who just don't want to accept that not all people can’t identify with the gender they’ve been born with. Maybe because it’s just so normal and natural for them to be a girl or boy. Apparently these people cannot put themselves in your shoes, what it's like to feel like a boy or girl but stuck in the body of the opposite sex. Apparently they don't even tried to imagine what it would be like if they weren't born a what they are. How it would be to be born in a different body with their previous gender identification. You are not the problem. The problem are the people who cannot listen to you, at least to understand how debiliating this situation is for you. So instead of Jimin, I'm going to do the vlive today and I'll talk with Armys about it. I will tell them that I will not tolerate Transphobia and any other Phobias of the LGBTQ+ community at all."

Your swollen eyes snaps open and you look at Namjoon in disbelief. As you want to open your lips to ask him, if he's really sure about that because he could get even more hate for that, he already knows what you're about to say.

Before these words can leave your lips, he quickly presses his owns on yours and gives you a gentle kiss full of love.

"I want to do that, my love. I want to do this for you, for us, for our LGBTQ+ ARMYs and for all these other peoples. It's important for me to make this statement."

When you nod slowly, Namjoon released the embrace and gave you a last kiss on the lips.

Then he goes into the living room to the dining table, where his laptop is and logs in.

You go quietly to the couch and wrap yourself up in your favorite blanket. To be honest, you don't really know what to expect. Before Namjoon starts his vlive, he looks at you and forms a silent "I love you" with his lips.

"Hey guys. I know Jimin should be sitting right here infront of the screen and doing his vlive with you. However, something happened tonight that I want to talk with you about it. I think you already know, we uploaded my Birthday vlog yesterday and there are comments written which are absolutely terrible and I'm not going to accept that under any circumstances.", Namjoon starts the vlive.

Today there is no trace of his usual playful and childish behavior, which he shows so often in his vlives. He's absolutely serious.

"Some of you are asking why you just got the information now, that Y/N is transgender and why we didn't tell you right away with our relationship announcement. I decided against it for the simple reason that it doesn't matter in our relationship. Y/N doesn't identify with his biological gender, although his body may be female, he is actually a boy who unfortunately was born in the wrong body. He is a boy and therefore he is my boyfriend."

"I introduced him to you as my boyfriend, because it doesn't matter who he was before, what gender he has from birth. It should only be about who he is now, who can he be now, that he's able to be finally that person who he want to be. We should finally give these people, like Y/N, the opportunity to live in the gender identity they are, without always saying 'But you are in reality woman, right?'."

"No, not really, in reality is Y/N a man. Can we please finally give them the opportunity to live in the gender with which they identify themselves. So when they should identify with the specific genders like male and female. And if that's not the case, if you assign yourself as nonbinary, it's perfectly okay! After all, there is still so much space between these two genders! We should give all of them the opportunity to simply live the way they are."

"That's why I think, that we all should be very happy, that we can identify ourself with our biological gender! Therefore, we should help all the other people to find their right gender when their biological gender doesn't suit them! And that they're able to show themself in public."

Namjoon takes a deep breath after this long monologue and grabs to his water glass to drink a bit. While doing this, he read all the new comments that pops up. They are very different, some are positive and supportive and then there are these other comments, literally saying how he can talk such a shit. 'There are only two genders, nothing between them and everyone has to be able to identify with their own gender!'

It is precisely in this conflict that he realizes again that ignorance and the lack of will to understand each other are two of the major problems.

"As I read your comments, one thing caught my eye very clearly. We're talking too much about each other than with each other."

"I know, as a person who can identify themself fairly well with their biological gender, it's pretty hard to imagine what it would be like if it weren't. And because of that, we have to talk about it. I know that all transgender or generally all LGBTQ+ people are tired of having to explain their gender identity or their sexuality all over again and again. Having to explain, why they are the way they are now."

"But I think that it'll be the only way to remove these stereotypes and prejudices, as well as fear of 'this unknown thing' and thus all these unjustifiably phobias and racism. Just because a person cannot identify with their biological gender doesn't mean that you have to change yours too! It means, that you should simply accept and respect it! However, we should give all these people the chance to finally develop in such a way that they can really be themselves. Regardless of whether they are assign themself as male, female or no specific gender."

"There are still so many questions in the room that result from pure lack of knowledge. And that's normal, of course, we can't know everything, but we can learn something new every day. Ask each other questions, so that you have the opportunity to be able to imagine yourself into the position of an other person. So at least try to understand how the other person must feel. It's a long way but we should try to finally remove this hate that is caused by ignorance and misunderstandings."

"There are always two peoples involved in a conversation. That's why I appeal to the LGBTQ+ community to be still patient with us, even if you're already so sick of it. You must have the feeling of literally speaking against a wall... And all people who identify with their biological gender and are heterosexual, so you practically correspond to the 'ideal image' of society with it, should listen to the LGBTQ+ Community and ask questions, so that these prejudices and this hate can finally be stopped and we all are able to live peacefully together. I know, this idea is utopian, but we can still try to get as close as possible to this utopia of a peaceful coexistence of all peoples."

Namjoon takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment before dropping the statement.

"And who, after my monologue, still refuses to simply ask the peoples questions when they don't understand something and still prefer to think about them in prejudices, please unfollow BTS and BigHit Entertainment."

Your eyes are round like plates and your mouth opens, want to say something, but no words comes over your lips.

In the corner of his eye, Namjoon sees how the comment section with messages literally explodes.

"I am not saying this out of pure selfishness just because I am angry and hurt. I am saying this because all members agree with this statement. We decided for this statement together."

"Of course we know, that you're still able to see all of our things, we cannot forbid you from listening to our music. But we all wanted to talk about this topic once. BTS and the Army community should be a safe space for all Armys, regardless of their gender identity or sexual orientation. We wanted to make sure that all Armys in our large community are welcome and that they'll be respected in the way they are."

"The members and me just need to know that we all can be honest with you and don't have to hide anything. That we can be sure you’re supporting us really. We just want that all peoples that follow us, are trying their best to understand each other. Of course, we all will never agree at the same point of view and that's a good thing! But we should respect each other's gender identity, sexual orientation and opinion. Because in the end we all are just humans. No more, no less."

"I would like to come to an end of this vlive for today. And for all haters out there, I'm not going to break up with Y/N. Please just respect that I love him. Exactly the way he is!"

With these words, Namjoon goes offline and closes the laptop, smiling at you softly when he comes to you on the couch.

"I love you. Please don't forget that," he whispers in your ear as he slips under the blanket and snuggles up to you.

Like I wrote it in Namjoons statement, I try my best to imagine myself into your position even when I never made these experiences (and probably never will) you had to make. That's why I'm always open to talk and listen to you, to learn new things about it!

And even when I'll never be able to understand you "really", then I'll make sure that you know that I still care for you guys, okay?

Love you 💜

[kevv]

a goodbye letter- abandoning current social media

i'm not the best at writing out my thoughts. forgive me if this feels scrambled and scraped together. my best friend, Fox, once said in abridged words; "it takes two to play out an abandonment fantasy, one to have it, and the other to follow suit".

i've known several handfuls of people who fear abandonment, or more specifically, being the one abandoned; scared that one day everyone in their life will take leave. and sometimes, like a self-fulfilling prophecy, they do. they leave in mass exodus, set into motion by one person who wants to set-forth their own abandonment fantasy– abandoning everyone else.

for me, my own fear of abandonment is not anyone abandoning me, i'm unbothered by people entering my life and leaving of their own accord; i'm scared i'll be the one to abandon everyone in my life. because i have. several times. i still do, even. i'll meet people in my lifetime that i loved harder than the universe itself, a deep love so terrifying i feel that it'll demolish cities and townships, friends and lovers and found-family. my skin will buzz and blaze alight with such an intense fear, a fear that i will ruin them and everything they are so i must run. it's unfounded, but it drives me away, and i fight tooth and nail to get to that escape route for those who won't let me leave quietly, until it ends in disaster. it's my own abandonment fantasy. i recall once, an ex-lover wanted me to stay. tried to lock the door and toss away the key, and said it hurt that i wanted an out. so i caused problems until i could break out through the window. not being allowed an option to leave made me feel like a feral, caged animal; because in the end, that's all i am. i hadn't done it on purpose. the need to escape everything had been there months prior. the events leading up to it had been fuzzy at best, sickly at worst, and i had been spoonfed misinformation. not on purpose, not in malicious intent, but still it struck genuine fear in my heart. like a feral animal, i want the option to roam. to come and go as i please. i can't be kept, i just want the trust that i'll find my way back eventually. if i feel contained, i scratch and bite until i'm released. but if you hold out your hand and wait patiently, i'll come to you. but don't ask me to stay. please don't ask me to stay. there's a lot that lead up to this current migration. the inability to be allowed to stand on my own two-feet and exist as just purely Kevin, not adjacent to someone, was a big one. still to this day i am asked about a youtuber i am no longer affiliated with by my own choice. i don't like attention, it's something i've said to her, said to many, and why i chose to never appear in her videos. which seems contradictory for an artist who posts on social media and previously did all of her older channel art. but maybe now i'm realizing that truthfully, i wanted recognition for me, not for others or for who i made myself sick in order to create content for. it's inescapable. i harbor no hard feelings anymore, i understand i was in the peak of my codependency and was willing to ruin myself for the benefit of another. to run myself broke and dry because at 19 years old i was still a child who didn't know how to handle the extent of his emotions. i want to apologize to penny. neither of us are really blameless, but we were inexperienced and young– still young. it's easy to not know what we're doing, to unintentionally take advantage of someone who was willing to burn themselves to give you warmth, or to latch onto an unfounded rumor and bare my teeth. i hope you're doing well, and i'm sorry. i'd like to give you a proper apology one day, when i'm more ready. that day is not today. sometimes i feel like there are four people living inside my brain, all with dissenting opinions and voices that i can't tell who i am anymore. i feel like i'm constantly contradicting myself because i don't know what my own thoughts are. i don't know who i am anymore. i don't know who i am anymore because i'm several different people all trying to be "kevin", all with different beliefs that go against a previous one. i prematurely deleted my twitter account for this reason, i couldn't stand a second more of being in a toxicity cycle i had previously taken part in, because sometimes that's all social media is. it's very... Online. i want to be one, unified person. whose thoughts and feelings are unadulterated by others surrounding him. additionally, there's the elephant in the room. some have already guessed it, suspected it, saw something like it coming from miles away. but for others who have known me for the past decade, it might be a surprise. someone once told me that words have power, and while at the time i disagreed, i'm starting to understand what she meant now. i've been afraid to speak it into existence, because it means it's real, and coming to terms with this unavoidable truth is a terrifying experience, one i need to face and stop running away from. 

i'm detransitioning. giving life to this phrase doesn't make me feel any better. words have power, and that power is to make me crumble and break. since as early as 4 years old, i felt as if i was born a boy who was just being raised as a girl. at 12 was when i learned about and started identifying as transgender. at 18 i legally changed my name. for a decade, i lived as a transgender man. i've mentioned this before, but i'm intersex. i have an androgen insensitivity syndrome. what this means is that androgens, male sex hormones, have no effect on me. they instantly are reconverted back into estrogen by my body. this has been a reoccurring nightmare of mine since i was 14, and having it become my reality is.. heartbreaking, to say the least, crushing a lifetime of dreams and wishes. i've tried testosterone, self-medicated in my teen years, and "officially" more recently. it has no effect on me. a friend of mine says i shouldn't give up hope until i properly see an endocrinologist about HRT, but the reality is– i know my body, and i know my condition. i don't grow body hair, and my body cannot masculinize. these are unavoidable truths. i don't need to spend hundreds of dollars to be told what i already know. HRT will not affect me; i will never be able to transition. any attempt will become a scientific study in which i'm a guinea pig. i don't want that. i will never pass for male. my voice is high, my body is undoubtably female, my face is feminine, and i'm 4'11". it's disheartening and i've shed many tears over it. for what feels like my whole life, i've longed for SRS/GRS, top surgery, a deeper voice, and a couple inches of height. i ache for body hair, masculine fat redistribution, and male pattern baldness. all the good and the bad associated with testosterone is what i so desperately yearn for with such a soul-crushing depravity. i am genuinely heartbroken. maybe it's my punishment for all the bad things i've believed in or done. it's what i'd deserve, i guess. this punishment. it is for those reasons that i feel like i can no longer find comfort in identifying as ftm, to struggle seeing myself as a man. it's crazy, i've referred to myself as male since early childhood, and now that i'm coming to terms with my intersex condition am i feeling wrong in every conceivably way of identity. truthfully, i don't even identify as anything anymore. i'm not nonbinary, cis, or i guess trans. i feel as if i just exist. i just am. you can still call me kevin. it's my name, my legal name– which i love to point out. i'm not changing it. it's the first time i made a decision purely for myself, and went through with it. i love my name. i don't think i will love anything about myself quite like my name. i chose it when i was 12, it was my first choice. i never wanted another name. i still don't. but i like nicknames, particularly kitty and K-K. you can call me those too. these have always been options available. i reiterate– i really like being called nicknames. (: you can still use male pronouns for me. i never minded being "misgendered" because, well, i never passed, and i made peace with that years and years ago. while being called she/her or otherwise will probably always leave a stale taste in my mouth, i've learned to accept the reality of what i am a long time ago. biologically female. you can still use male identifiers for me, like husband or boyfriend or whatever other male terms there are...... actually you'll have to pry those out of my cold dead hands. i will not accept being called a "girlfriend" i will literally go feral and foam at the mouth and bite your ankles until you take it back. there's comfort in these things that i'm not ready to let go of, and frankly, i don't think i'll ever feel ready to. moving forward, i don't really know what i'm going to do. right now i'm taking a break from the internet, so i can soul-search and truly find myself, in all senses of the word and every iteration that it can be built upon. i'll make a new twitter account when i'm ready to, probably. there's a lot more i want to say, to add onto this in addendum, and pour so much of myself into this until it spills out the sides and trickles down into tiny cracks. but truthfully, i don't know how to say it. i don't know its relevancy to this eulogy of an account, and quite honestly, there are still some things i can't find myself able to say. to speak into existence. to give power to those words. admitting aloud to a 6-year long love that burnt like candles catching a home on fire was intense enough (hi Charlotte it's you, it's you and it's always been you and everyone knows this). so maybe i'd rather keep some things to myself, perhaps. preferably. so i guess that's it. i've bared my heart and soul and skin and bones to whoever will read this piece of myself. it's the end to katidoj, one that's been a longtime coming. i've never been very good at staying in one place for very long. please take care, i love you. and i'll miss you. a piece of my heart left with you, here buried deep in this account. (pressing the submit button has never been so hard in my life.)