#tboy morning voice

[beatsboy]

trans men whose voices are still dropping have such a golden opportunity i just realized in the voice acting industry like there are so many adults voicing teenagers in animation and none of them got that authentic pubescent voice crack like we do LETS GO

[earlgaylatte]

How to Empathize with the Sad Tboy who Lives in the Dorm Across From Yours-

1) Shed everything, from the seatbelt wrapped around your core to the sheets on your childhood bed. When the sun rises in the morning and peppers your face with kisses, draw the curtains and block him out. Believe what the media says about transness, that it is a life of absence.

2) Start practicing constant fear. Wake up with shaking hands and looming dread laying over you like a blanket. Check the news. Don't check the news. Prepare to carry the burden of every sixteen year old killed in the nearest big city, even when the police say it was a suicide. Check the news. Watch the murders slowly get closer to your home.

3) Put wrapping paper up over your mirrors because you can no longer bear the sight of yourself. If anyone asks why you aren't eating or showering, make something up. Fill your stomach on the feeling of shame.

4) Daydream that you were born a boy. Replace all your childhood memories with this version of you. Your father is still around, and he's carrying the precious little boy he's raising up to bed. His feet are nimbly dodging toy trucks and legos, and in the morning, he'll wake you up to scrambled eggs and little sips of his coffee. When he talks about you with his new family, he'll say, "That's my son," instead of "Pass me the bottle."

5) When your mom starts catching on, try to ignore the sobbing you hear from her bedroom, her shaking voice begging the pastor of your church to make sense of it. Don't knock and try to comfort her. Don't acknowledge how icy your stepfather has become, how often he seems to be accessing your masculinity and finding you lacking. And whatever you do, don't start trying to track down your father, who must've seen some ghost of it on you when he left.

6) When the church gathers around you in a circle, rebuking the boyhood they call demons, don't flinch. Don't cry either. Just clutch the baggy flannel you're wearing around you tighter, like a fabric hug could heal the fractures of your soul.

7) Don't call that church a cult, even if it was. Don't go back to it, either.

8) When you get older, stand in the bathroom with scissors, hair dye, and a promise. Slowly shape yourself into something you can recognize, soft waves of hair falling into the sink. When you see yourself again, it will be a disaster. But it will feel like being whole.

9) When your mom says that the HRT will kill you, when your stepdad says that the HRT will kill your mom, don't let it under your skin like the other cruelties. Don't trade a full life for conditional familiarity, some semblance of holiness, and no sense of self.

10) Instead, tell them that you want to live long enough to tell your story. Tell them if you die, it will be in a blaze of glory: god's gift of creation is told in the generational echoes of people like us.

[trans-faggot]

Tboy morning voice>>>

Makes me wanna eat a pretty boy out for breakfast <3

[callslips]

TRANSMASC! NAT x TRANSFEMME! LOTTIE HCS

(sorry anon, accidentally deleted your ask </3)

*noted this is written from a tboy perspective but i will do my girlie lot justice! *the nsfw portion will be tagged at the end as a pwp transmac x transfemme lottienat AO3 fic :>

SFW HCS

absolute favorite has to be nat, even after four+ months on T, being such a baby about shots and asking lottie to do them for him (which she obviously says yes to every time)

lot in solidarity offers to let nat do hers, instructs him carefully, and then soon they're just doing each others HRT shots and cuddling afterwards in the ensuing gender euphoria of it all

lot's HRT won't give her a cycle and it'll make her dysphoric while she's also dealing with all the hormones still occurring, nat would be the doting bf affirming her in the ways he can the whole time - "baby, you're so pretty. such a pretty girl." and doing all the things you'd normally do - making sure she eats well, giving her extra attention, chocolates, kisses all over her face to show how loved she is, and checking in on her frequently in case she needs extra love and attention

nat gets top surgery while they're dating and lot takes care of him the whole time, reassures him even when he feels a little silly for whining about any pain or having to wear the bandages and gives him loads of kisses and compliments when he finally takes the binder off, mindful of the fact she still has to be careful but obsessed with touching his now-flat chest especially since he's so happy about it.

whenever nat is feeling dysphoric lottie will tell him how handsome he is while playing with his hair/running her fingers along his top surgery scars/playing with the happy trail on his stomach until all he can do is laugh and pull her in for kisses

nat gets to over 8 months on T and his voice has fully deepened, lot's voice has gotten higher on E and they're both like - somehow even more attracted to each other than they were before dksjks. phone calls even though they just left each other's apartments just to hear each other's voices, nat sending husky voice notes in the morning because he knows they drive lottie crazyyyy. lot's voice being so cute to nat that sometimes conversations are like - "babe, i literally just explained this to you." and nat's like, "i know. can you say it again though? i just love hearing you talk."

nat's HRT giving him that *slutty* male waist and allowing him to bulk a bit, lot literally can't keep her hands off him or stop bragging about how handsome "my man" is or using every possible moment to say "my guy" or "my boyfriend" (nat is even worse about calling lot "my girl", making it extremely clear to all his dudebros that lot is HIS,, but we won't get into it, possessive nat is for another time)

likewise lottie's HRT making her gain weight in her hips and chest and nat being like, insanely obsessed with this. could not keep his hands off of her if he tried and even then lot wouldn't want him to, grinning every time nat squeezes at the plush of her waist or kisses her stomach, telling her she's "so perfect, so beautiful. how'd i get so lucky?"

literally the most wholesome relationship ever, like they go clothes shopping together and tell each other which outfits look so pretty or so handsome

the height difference doesn't even bother nat because having a tall gf just means her skirts show even MORE of her legs (he has an obsession there as well) and when they cuddle he can just starfish on top of her while she plays with his hair and gives him little affirmations

probably could go on and on but i hope you enjoyed :,)

NSFW TRANSMASC! NAT X TRANSFEMME! LOTTIE A03 FIC LINK:

this was written on anon so i'm kind of defeating the purpose by posting it but only a few of you have my tumblr soooo

[daydream-believin]

tea time

summary: tboy reader comes out

warnings: aaaAAAA

you didn’t plan coming out to him, it just sort of happened. like your soul hurts just a little too much one night and you just have to tell somebody. you can’t stand it. you need someone to know. to know you. of course it had to be douxie. he’s your favourite person

in the wee hours of the morning the screaming in your head gets a little too loud. you take some kitchen shears to your hair. looking in the mirror, looking down at the hair pooling around your feet. looks like you might be eating that death sandwich soon. your gaunt reflection taunts you. you’re dead meat. you have to get out of your house Now.

and so you’ve crawled out your window, wandered through the deserted streets of town, and you’ve somehow made your way to douxie’s door. guess your feet knew you needed to see him.

douxie opens the door, says nothing but “i’ll go put the kettle on.”

you’re sitting here next to douxie on the couch, nice warm cuppa in hand. the steam rises from your teacup, sticking to your features. and douxie still hasn’t said anything. just sipped his tea. the quiet is deafening in your mind.

you open your mouth to speak. nothing comes out. you try again and again. you’d practiced this all in your head before. the speech. the explanation. the eloquent words to justify your existence. but all you manage to squeak out now, finally, is a strangled,

“douxie. i think i might be— i know i am, i— i’m a man?”

you hated the way your fragile voice choked that out in a way as if it were a question, at the end. it wasn’t a question. but it was, not a question of who you were but of how doux would react.

douxie puts his teacup down on the coffee table. the liquid within jostles around and almost spills. he’s nervous. you’re afraid to breathe.

“have you— do you have a name?”

you take a moment to let the oxygen back into your burning lungs. your throat still felt like it might as well be closing up. douxie waits patiently, his eyes soft. and you take your time regaining the ability to speak. finally, you answer him, “y/n.”

“y/n,” he repeats to himself, “do you want another cup of tea, y/n?”

“what?”

“you’re empty,” his slender finger pointed to your, yes, empty, teacup.

“oh, uh- sure. thank you.”

you weren’t sure if you were thanking him for the tea or for using your name. speaking of which, it sounded so nice rolling off his tongue. he said it so gently.

your hands wrapped around the hot teacup as douxie gave it back to you, now full of freshly brewed camomile. the calming smell felt as if it seeped into you. you took a sip, and the steaming liquid helped fill up the pit that had grown in your stomach.

“y/n,” stars, his accent, “you don’t have to leave.”

you looked up at him with searching eyes. his fringe caught the light from the lamp by his side in such a way that the blue bits of it lit up. almost like a halo, as he was a saint. and it fit, because somehow you knew this moment was holy. he may have said, stay here with me for as long as you need, but the concept he was implying was clear.

you don’t have to leave arcadia.

and you wanted so desperately to believe him.