#I see how getting misgendered because 'short hair is boy' or 'short hair is NB' can be really annoying

[kjzx]

Binary stealth trans people wanting to be gendered correctly with the help of cultural gender role shortcuts 🤝 NB people wishing people would ask about their identities instead of assuming 🤝 GNC cis people wanting to be gendered correctly in spite of their gender non-conformity

Despite the opposite desires sharing the life of getting by in a hostile world not built for them

Listen, the life experiences are not the same but I think there is or should be a way for these groups to coexist even if you're actively opposed to the idea of being treated the same way another person would dream of being treated

[uhhkpop]

A Perfect Girl - Eric Sohn x (afab)NB!reader

—

Content/Warnings: College AU, Smut (18+ mdni), Fluff, Angst, they/them reader, discussion of pronouns, reader’s gender identity not specified- implied to be slightly female aligned but outside the gender binary, misgendering (accidental and deliberate), insecurity, reader has body hair, reader is taller than Eric, Eric’s ex is a bully, virgin!reader with no dating experience, big dick!Eric (iykyk 👀), tit sucking, unprotected piv sex (DONT DO THIS), oral (receiving), marking (giving and receiving), reader becomes a bit possessive but Eric thinks it’s hot, an “ily”, hurt-comfort, this is ridiculously long, lmk if I’ve missed something

DISCLAIMER: I write fan fiction for myself and myself only. If you feel excluded or underrepresented by the content, that is because it is specifically intended to represent me. If you like it, that’s great, and I’m hoping a few people might, but if you don’t, then you are free to read something else.

—

By itself, crushing on a boy sucks. It sucks even more when you dress kinda masculine, have a couple inches on him height-wise, and you worry that as a (presumably) heterosexual man, these qualities on a woman (or whatever it is you are, you’ve given up on figuring it out) will be a turn off for him.

You like to think that Eric isn’t full of toxic masculinity or anything of the sort, though you wouldn’t blame him if he was a bit insecure— most people are, in one way or another. But at the end of the day, cis-het men like femininity and that is not you. So, all you can do is look at him wistfully from across the classroom and fantasize about things that you’re sure will never happen. Sighing, you think about how the only girls you’ve seen him date have all been short and pretty with frilly outfits, flowing long hair, and foreheads never too high for him to kiss. You aren’t jealous of their height or how they dress, you wouldn’t want to look like them anyway, but you are jealous that they get to be considered desirable and you aren’t. Eric Sohn is too normal for you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

You’re so wrapped up in your own thoughts that you almost don’t hear the professor announce that partners for the group project will be posted tonight. You’re still sneaking glances at him even as class ends and people start filtering out when you see a girl jog in with a hopeful look on her face. She goes straight towards Eric and grabs his hand and although you can’t hear everything, the girl says something along the lines of, “Come onnnnn. We should spend time together again. I miss you, you know?”, in a coaxing tone. You watch Eric’s face harden as he speaks crossly,

“What did you think I meant when I said I didn’t want to see you anymore?” He fixes her with a glare. The girl just looks at him innocently.

“Well, I know you just wanted a few days to cool down, so I gave you a few days and now we can go back to our old routine!” She smiles at him, clearly ignoring the annoyed look on his face. You continue to pack up slowly because even though you know it’s not your business and you’re internally scolding yourself for being nosy, part of you feels compelled to find out where this is going. Because it’s Eric.

“You know that’s not what I meant. I’m not falling for this bullshit again,” Eric retorts. His voice is terse, almost angry. Your bag is all packed now and when you hear the girl start to speak again, an impulse takes over and you suddenly yell to him from across the room.

“Eric!” You call his name and wave at him. The face of the girl (who you now assume is a recent ex) twists into displeasure as you jog over. “Did you forget the reservation at that lunch place that we booked? I don’t want to be late.” Eric’s expression quickly goes from confusion to what seems to be relief.

“Lunch…” the ex scoffs, “with this ugly bitch? I see you’ve lowered your standards.” Well, ouch. That stung. She storms off before Eric can get another word in. Once she’s completely gone, you try to smile apologetically and offer,

“Sorry. You seemed a bit stuck there, so I wanted to help.” He laughs at this and shakes his head.

“No, you’re good! I’m actually glad she’s gone. I don’t think she’ll bother me again anytime soon.” He motions with his head for you to come along, so you follow him out of the classroom. “Exes, am I right?”, he quips jokingly. You shrug and stuff your hands in your pockets.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Wait, really?” Eric’s eyes widen a bit.

“Is it that weird that I haven’t dated yet?,” you ask curiously.

“No, no,” he backtracks, looking uncomfortable, suddenly aware of what he said, “that’s not exactly what I meant. I mean, it’s totally okay if you choose not to date, not everyone has to date if they don’t want to, I know that, yeah, I’ve just overheard you ranting to friends about being single before, so I figured…” Eric rambles and then trails off. You chuckle a bit in response as you walk across one of the wide courtyards on campus.

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad. But where are we going by the way?”, you ask.

“I don’t know, actually.” You look at him, puzzled about his response.

“But I’m just following you,” you say. He looks back, equally confused by your words and replies,

“I thought I was following you???” You stop in your tracks and burst out laughing and it isn’t long before Eric joins in. After a few minutes, you take a couple of deep breaths to settle down, a giggle or two still occasionally coming up. You can’t remember the last time you laughed that hard. It felt good, really good. “So,” Eric says, “do you want to actually get lunch? I’ll buy since I owe you for rescuing me back there.” You can’t keep the grin off your face.

“I’d love to.”

~~~

On the way there and at the cafe, Eric chatted nonstop about the ex who had bothered him (Gina, you think her name was) earlier as well as about anything and everything else that came to mind. You found that you actually enjoyed listening to him speak even more than you’d expected. It wasn’t often that you found someone who could both outtalk you and simultaneously entertain you enough that you genuinely enjoyed listening to them even when you didn’t get much of a word in.

The whole thing was like a dream and you roll around on your bed, covering your face with your hands and laughing as you reminisce about it. You thought he was cute before and now you’re pretty sure you might be obsessed, too. You don’t think your luck could get any better than it already is today but when you check the list of partners assigned by the professor, you’re proven wrong. The name next to yours on the chart is none other than Eric’s.

You had exchanged numbers at lunch, so you text him the news and set up a time to meet each week to work on it. You can’t believe you’re going to be seeing him outside of class and even though you’re a bit apprehensive (out of fear you might fuck something up), you’re mostly just excited to spend time with him.

You begin sitting together every class and as he’d predicted, Gina didn’t make another attempt at an after-lecture visit. Not only is the project coming along nicely, you now feel like you can say that Eric has become a good friend. You’ve even forgotten how self-conscious you used to feel whenever you were next to him. Or at least, you’ve mostly forgotten. He made you laugh often enough that you didn’t have much time to think about it, but now and then you still feel lingering doubts at the back of your mind. Doubts that hurtle towards the surface today when Gina suddenly marches towards you while you’re studying by yourself in the library, sits across from you, and affixes you with a glare, saying,

“I can’t believe he’s been spending so much time with such a poor excuse for a girl.” Her voice drips with venom and stuns you speechless, and she goes on, “I mean, look at you, what kind of girl dresses like that? What kind of girl lets herself have that much body hair? It’s kinda gross, not gonna lie.” When you open your mouth to ask why you would even have to be a ‘girl’ or dress in a certain way, she interjects again. “You aren’t pretty at all, and you seem pretty boring, too. Even if I can’t have him anymore, you should leave him alone for someone who’s actually in his league.”

At this point, you feel compelled to clarify that Eric isn’t dating you or even interested, but you don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing that, so you just tell her the harshest thing you can think of in that moment: “I’m sorry that conforming to binary gender stereotypes is so important to you. Hopefully one day you’ll get a hobby that doesn’t involve judging other people for how they dress.” You look at her nonchalantly and she looks like she wants nothing more than to cuss you out right now. But she doesn’t. Gina just stands up abruptly and walks away. Unfortunately, however, the pride you feel for reacting so calmly, is edged out by a feeling of discomfort. If anyone’s opinion should be taken seriously, it certainly shouldn’t be hers, but you can’t shake the nagging sense that she isn’t the only one who thinks the way she does.

In general, you’re happy with yourself. You’re okay with not being pretty. In the end, how you look doesn’t matter, right? …right? Except it kinda does, because you want Eric to think you’re pretty, but that seems far fetched, so you remind yourself not to get any hopes up.

You stretch and begin to pack up. After that confrontation, the thought of being here much longer makes you feel ill, so you head out the door feeling unsettled and just plain bad. Why did some people suck that much? All you want to do is go home, nap, and try not to think about it. It doesn’t even occur to you that today you have one of your weekly meetings with Eric to work on the project together. Once you get home, you plop face first into the couch and after a bit of rolling around, quickly fall asleep.

~~~

You’re rudely awakened by both the sound of your phone ringing and someone knocking on your door. “What the fuck?” You mutter and stand up. As soon as you open the door and see Eric’s face, it dawns on you. You’d completely forgotten what day it was. This had never happened before and frankly, you’re embarrassed. Letting him in, you feel yourself wither away even more on the inside. Eric should be mad, you think, but his expression remains neutral, confused even. It’s hard to speak, just seeing him right now makes you almost want to cry, but you open your mouth to try to say something to him anyway. You don’t even get the chance. Once the front door closes, Eric gently puts his hands on your arms and asks,

“Shit, you okay?” He has a concerned look on his face. You figure you must look pretty pathetic right now if he’s this worried just from looking at you. It isn’t long before the dam breaks and tears stream down your face. Eric rubs your arms and guides you to sit down on your sofa. “Hard day?” You gulp down sobs and nod. “Do… you want to talk about it?” You shake your head even though you do, actually, want to talk about it. But you can’t let him know because you don’t want him to pity you or even worse, confront his ex which might make her target you even more.

“We should…" you swallow, "get to work." You lean to grab your backpack to remind Eric of why he came over in the first place. He stops you though, holding each of your hands in his, gently stroking your knuckles with his thumbs.

"No," Eric insists, "we can always finish it up later. You aren't feeling good right now, so we probably wouldn’t get a ton of stuff done anyway," You look down at your lap, not sure how to reply. Eventually, you force out a weak ‘okay’. “Is there anything I can do to help?”, Eric asks and you shrug, still looking down, not wanting to talk. He lets go of your hands and returns them to his own lap. “Would… you like a hug?” You nod and you feel him wrap his arms around you, warm and strong, adjusting yourself in his arms so you can rest your forehead on his shoulder. Eric holds you like that for several minutes even though you aren’t crying anymore. You savor this moment because you’re pretty sure you’re a little bit in love with him and you don’t know if you’ll get chance to be this close to him ever again. It feels wrong, as if you’re taking advantage of his kindness to satisfy how utterly touch starved you feel, but right now, you don’t have the energy to think too deeply into it.

Eric releases you from his hold and pinches your arm, giving you a smile that is mischievous yet still sympathetic, an expression you didn’t even know existed before meeting him. “So,” Eric chuckles, “if you don’t wanna tell me what happened, could you at least tell me who made you feel this way, so I can go kick them in the ass?” You laugh dryly, but it lacks much humor.

“I don’t care about what happens to the other person, but one of the people is me, and I’d rather not have my ass kicked, thank you very much.” You fix him with a weary smile and his expression drops, the only sound out of his mouth is a concerned whisper of your name.

“You don’t deserve that from anyone, least of all yourself,” Eric insists.

“I know,” you say, “and usually it’s not an issue, but I have insecurities just like everyone else and sometimes I meet people who are really good at reminding me of them. And it’s not even that I compare myself to other people,” you go on, “but it’s not like I can stop other people from doing that or even from saying it straight to my face. It’s fucking bullshit.” You lean back against the couch and look at the ceiling.

You hear him sigh. “I don’t know what to say, I’m sorry man, that really sucks.” The both of you sit in silence for a few seconds before Eric blurts out, “They must have said something pretty bad to upset you that much, usually you seem so unbothered by things.”

“I mean, kinda, but it’s just a front a lot of the time. I’ve learned to just roll with it to avoid attracting even more attention. I’ve always stuck out a bit, you know? Especially since I started college.” You sit up straight and look at him again, but Eric’s expression is somewhat unreadable.

“What changed?”, he tentatively asks. You shrug casually, trying to play it cool.

“Just the way I dress and refer to myself, I guess. New town, new me. I finally started wearing the clothes I wanted instead of making myself look like a girl to feel normal… and…” you hesitate at this part. You know he’ll be accepting, you’re almost completely sure of it, but you know that there’s always a risk with this kind of thing. A risk of people pushing you away out of judgment or prejudice. You know that Eric most likely won’t push you away, and that if he does, you’re better off not having him in your life anyway. But none of that makes it any less scary.

You inhale, hoping for the best, bracing for the worst, and confess, “I also started using they/them pronouns. I didn’t change my name or anything but I don’t refer to myself as a girl or a woman as often as I used to. I don’t mind people using ‘she’ or describing me with those words, but it just feels better when people refer to me more neutrally.” Your legs are wiggling nervously and you pick at your fingernails as you wait for a response.

“Cool,” Eric says calmly then gives you a genuine smile, “Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me. I’ll do my best to keep it in mind.” The weight on your shoulders has disappeared and you feel like you can fully breathe again. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and Eric laughs and reaches over to massage one of your shoulders. “Relax a bit, you’re fine,” he reassures, his expression still amused.

“Thanks.” You smile at Eric, truly grateful.

~~~

Since then, Eric has made a diligent effort to use the right language for you. You sometimes have to remind him that he doesn’t need to focus so hard on it; you feel like he sees you for who you are, and that’s the most important part. Still, he does his best, and it’s endearing, to say the very least. Part of you wishes you hadn’t told him— you already had feelings for him before and now that he’s putting in all this effort just to make you feel comfortable and seen, you’re falling for him even harder.

But despite all this, he clearly only sees you as a friend. It’s obvious, the way he’ll ask for an opinion about some girl’s profile on whatever dating app he’s using, how he’ll sometimes give you a fist bump as a greeting. You’re starting to wonder if he just sees you as another guy friend, and you really don’t want that.

Otherwise, everything is great between you two. The project went well and your professor commented on your chemistry when presenting together, saying that it would be nice if all of the teams worked together so well. Eric has started inviting you to hang out with his other friends who you’ve discovered are also really fun to be around. Everything is falling into place except your desire to be even physically and emotionally closer to him than you already are. But you’re a coward and you can’t tell him that. You don’t want to risk one of your best friendships. So you stay quiet and let things be.

The staying quiet part itself is easy enough but suppressing your feelings around Eric is not. Your urges to stare at him or giggle or grin like an idiot whenever he does something remotely cute or funny are overwhelming, so you wear a facade of ‘calm, cool, and collected’ as best you can. You think you’re succeeding, but you can’t be too sure, especially when Eric’s friends sometimes subtly nudge you, giving knowing smiles as if to tell you that they’ve caught onto your little secret. Now that you think of it, they definitely know. It’s not hard to tell when Eric asks you to come with him to a party they’ve all been invited to and Hyunjae looks at you with a gleam in his eye and suggests nonchalantly that it could be ‘a fun excuse to dress up, maybe try and catch someone’s eye,’ finally shutting up when Juyeon elbows him in the ribs and shoots him a pointed look. You’re slightly embarrassed that they’ve figured it out this fast but at the same time, you’re grateful that they haven’t seemed to have said anything to Eric yet.

Usually you’re not someone to go to parties. But for the sake of Eric, you agree quickly and begin to wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into.

~~~

As soon as you step into the party, you feel out of place. It’s uncomfortably loud, smells of smoke and booze, and whoever is DJ-ing is doing a very shitty job. Then again, most people here are probably too drunk to care anyway. If Eric hadn’t asked you to be here, you would’ve left already. A stranger comes up to you to offer a drink and gives you a rude side eye when you decline it and you know you’ve already lost popularity points that you didn’t have in the first place.

Your eyes scan the room for Eric, but it’s too crowded to tell if he’s even here. For all you know, he could be off wooing one of the many high heeled girls in their little black dresses and immaculate makeup, having completely forgotten about you. You don’t even remember the name of this other friend of his who’s having their birthday tonight. Maybe Eric just brought you along because he knew that you wouldn’t put up with his ex’s bullshit unlike the other ‘girls’ he could have asked. But what’s the point if he’s not even here? You text him again but get no response, he probably doesn’t notice the phone buzzing in his pocket anyway. You decide you’ll try one more time in a few minutes, but for now, all you can do is stare into space and wish you were somewhere else.

After a few minutes, you reach for your phone again, feeling ready to give up if you still don’t get a response but you’re interrupted by strong hands suddenly grabbing your arm. You startle, ready to punch someone if you have to, but upon seeing it’s only Eric, you let yourself relax.

“Hey, (Y/N)… you came!”, Eric says excitedly. He doesn’t seem super drunk yet but he’s certainly at least a bit tipsy.

“I did,” you sigh begrudgingly, fiddling with a loose thread on your pants.

“You look soooo cool, by the way,” he nods approvingly and even though you can tell he’s a bit more inebriated than you initially thought, for the first time tonight, you feel attractive, sexy even. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to wear ripped jeans and a suit vest as a top if Eric seems to like it. You mentally kick yourself for being so emotionally invested in a man’s opinion.

“Is there anything fun to do here that doesn’t involve drinking?” You ask, hoping that the response will be something other than no. However, you are not so fortunate.

“Not really,” Eric says, “unless you wanna dance?” His eyes light up mischievously but you shake your head at the suggestion. You do not want your chunky boots to make you look even taller than you already are in comparison to him. “Besides,” he adds, “I like having you here.” You aren’t sure whether to swoon or feel disappointed because that could mean plenty of things.

“Is it so I can tell your annoying ex to fuck off?” You inquire. He widens his eyes at your suggestion, looking almost offended you would assume such a thing.

“No, no, no… not at all! Well… maybe a little bit, but only a little bit. I invited you because I wanted to hang out,” he insists.

“There are better occasions for hanging out,” you grumble, but he doesn’t seem to hear.

“Let’s go sit!” Eric announces pulling you by your wrist to a couch near the edge of the room. Soon, you find yourself squeezed next to him on some piece of furniture that’s probably only meant for one person to comfortably stretch out on but not for two to sit next to each other. Eric goes on a tipsy ramble about something you don’t really understand but you nod along anyway. Your hands are resting on your lap and you wonder when he’ll realize that he’s mindlessly playing with your fingers. Not that you mind; it’s pretty cute, actually. This is nice, you think. You wouldn’t mind staying like this for the rest of the night, but the universe has other plans.

“You’re with her again? Don’t you know better?” Eric’s ever-lovely ex appears in front of you, wearing a scowl on her face. You’re not surprised that she’s talking about you as if you aren’t even there. Eric fixes her with a confused look.

“Why would I ‘know better’? As far as I’m concerned, being with them is better than dealing with your jealous ass.” Hearing this, Gina scoffs,

“You’re just doing this because you pity her and because you’re trying to piss me off by being with someone… who looks like that.” People are starting to watch the scene and you’re becoming self conscious.

“I think they look hot, so your opinion is irrelevant,” Eric snaps back at her. “Unlike what you seem to think, the reason I broke up with you wasn’t because I stopped finding you attractive, it’s because you act like this.” Eric pauses and you think he’s done with his rant until he suddenly adds, “also, you were shit in bed.” A scattering of whispers and murmurs goes through the group watching the confrontation and Gina looks like she’s going to cry. You immediately stand up and pull Eric with you,

“Alright, we’re gonna go now,” you announce, dragging him to the door with a cheeky smirk still plastered to his face. As much as you thought she deserved it, you figure she’s probably had enough humiliation for the night, so you wait outside the house with Eric and call a cab. Your head is spinning with thoughts and you have to know the details. You’re hot? His ex was bad in bed? But you don’t know where to start, so instead you just say, “you were pretty savage back there,” both surprise and admiration lacing your voice.

“I’m as savage as it gets,” Eric says proudly, barking and growling like a dog as he ends his statement. He grins at you and for some strange reason, you’re absolutely enamored with this weirdo.

“By the way, did you mean it?”, you ask. “Y’know, the thing you said?”

“Which one, the one where I said you looked hot or the one where I said she was bad at sex? Because both are technically true, in my opinion.” Eric shrugs and gives you a crooked, tipsy smile. Your heart is drumming. You know that his answer is going to either be the best news you’ve heard in years, or an absolute letdown.

“Can you clarify? Like, do you think I’m hot, or am I just hot in general?”

“Can’t it be both?” Eric looks at you quizzically.

“‘Cause, like, I have no doubt that you said that to annoy her which is totally valid to me, but I need to know if you just said it to annoy her or if you actually, personally, are attracted to me.”

“Look,” Eric says, “annoying her was not my plan when I said that, it just happened to be a nice bonus.” He giggles, swaying a bit and you wonder how much of this he’ll remember tomorrow. Eric purses his lips, “The thing I said about her being bad in bed, that one was to annoy her. It also happens to be true, but it was mostly for petty revenge.”

“Was she really that bad?”, you ask. Probably too personal of a question, but he brought it up, so you’re itching to know the story.

“Hmm, in a way, yeah. It was always very impersonal and she mostly just cared about herself. When I said I wanted her to be more attentive and caring towards me, she looked at me as if I was crazy. Like, can’t a guy just want some emotional intimacy?” He scoffs at the memory and you feel your heart squeeze. You think to yourself that you’ll store that information for later and then mentally scold yourself for being delusional.

“That’s stupid,” you finally reply. “She’s the weird one, not you.”

“Yeah! I know!”, Eric complains. Then he grabs your hand and leans into you. “See, this is why I like you. You get me.”

“Yeah?”, you murmur quietly, wrapped up in the moment.

“Yeah,” he repeats softly, and he looks at you so dreamily that it takes everything in you to not kiss him right then and there.

The arrival of the cab interrupts your moment and neither of you speak as the driver takes you to each of your respective destinations. When you finally get into your bedroom, you flop onto the bed without even getting undressed and scream into your pillow. You aren’t excited, you aren’t upset, you’re just… stuck. Overwhelmed by your feelings for a man you’re sure could never want you the way you want him. And it’s impossible to get rid of him now that he’s in more parts of your life than you can count. You couldn’t, anyway, no matter how much you wanted to. You know that even if you tried to cut him out, all it would take is a text from him and you’d come running without hesitation. Eric Sohn has you wrapped around his finger and he doesn’t even know it.

~~~

After meeting Eric the next day ‘to check on his hangover’ (aka gather info on how much he actually remembers from the previous night), you’ve discovered that he’s forgotten more than you expected him to. He remembers all of the events for the most part. Eric knows that he drank, talked with some friends, found you, got in an argument with his ex, and then was dragged out by you for saying something nasty. What he couldn’t recall is any of what he specifically said. Which left it up to you to decide how much to actually tell him.

It’s only fair that he knows, so you tell Eric everything. Well… everything except for your conversation outside. You aren’t sure why, but the idea of Eric finding out that he implied last night that he genuinely found you attractive and that he told you why he wasn’t satisfied with his ex in bed fills you with a sense of dread. Part of you is probably afraid that his explanation for the former has changed and as for the latter, you don’t want to embarrass him. At least that’s what you tell yourself because you don’t want to admit that you’re saving that information for the off chance you ever do get to sleep with him.

You fantasize that not only will you give him your body, but your heart, too, and that it will make him fall so deeply for you that none of those things you worry about will even matter. You’ll love him better than any of his exes did, so much that he won’t see anyone else but you. But those are dreams, not reality.

Straight men usually want girls who will complement their own sense masculinity, not challenge it. Straight men usually want girls. And unless you’ve misinterpreted something, he is one of the ‘straight men’ but you’ll never be one of the ‘girls’. And of course there are exceptions, it’s not like this is a rule, but how are you supposed to feel hopeful when you’ve never seen it happen in real life or even in fiction?

~~~

When Eric invites you to another party, this time at his apartment on a Friday night, you’re confused. After the events of last Friday, you’re wondering what made him think this was even remotely a good idea. But he promises it’ll be a small informal event and you’re weak when it comes to Eric, so of course you agree.

You decide to go a little more casual this time, just wearing your most comfortable jeans and a simple button up tee. Hopefully it won’t be too casual compared to everyone else there. When you get to his place, however, you don’t even see anyone whose outfit could be a potential gauge for the vibe of this party. It’s just you and Eric in the apartment. The lights are low and there’s music playing, so surely there has to be someone else here already, right?

“Am I early, or something?”, you ask as Eric lets you into his apartment.

“Nah,” he says, walking around aimlessly.

“Then why am I the only one here?”

“Uh… you’re kinda, like, the only person I invited,” he admits with a playful grin. You look at him incredulously and lightly slug him in the shoulder.

“What the fuck, man? You had me anxious for nothing!” You laugh in relief. “I was psyching myself up to get ready to endure several hours of being social, and now you’re telling me it was all for nothing?” Eric frowns facetiously.

“What do you expect me to do about it?”, he asks. You just snicker in response. Eric has you sit down at his small dining table while he gets you a drink and you watch his broad back as he opens the fridge and asks you what you want. You know you’re distracted by him, but you can’t help it. It’s even worse tonight because he obviously put some effort into his appearance and you think it certainly paid off. When he turns back around, you give him an awkward smile, hoping he couldn’t tell you’d literally been staring at his physique only moments ago.

Eric raises his eyebrows at you but doesn’t say anything and hands you your drink.

“So aside from, uhhh, chatting,” you say, gesturing around, “what’s the plan?”

“We’re gonna make up for what we didn’t do last time we were at a party,” he explains. “We’re going to dance.”

Dance? You’re confused. Eric had told you he didn’t remember much of what he said that night. You yourself had almost forgotten he asked you to dance because compared to everything else that had happened, it was barely even notable. Eric then suddenly speaks up.

“I was kinda disappointed when you said 'no' that time. You can totally, like, say no again, but I wanted to make another chance. Is that weird?”

Oh my god. Is he flirting with you right now? You really can’t tell. And the idea of dancing seems even worse this time since it’s just him. It’s not like you’ll have a crowd of people to blend in with that likely would include some even worse dancers than you. But Eric can see the apprehension in your face.

“C’monnnnnn! It’ll be fun.”

He taps something on his phone and the volume of the music increases and the song switches to something more upbeat. Before you can protest, he makes his way to you and grabs onto your wrists, pulling you out of your chair to lead you to a more open area. Eric doesn’t let go, moving your arms to the beat with him. You laugh and let him but you still don’t do any moving of your own. When you still don’t join him, Eric gazes up at you and pouts, giving you the biggest, most pathetic puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen in your life. “Please…?”, he whines, effortlessly making your resolve crumble.

“You know what? Ok, fine, whatever, you win,” you concede with a defeated smile. God only knows the things you would do for this man.

“Hell yeah!” he celebrates with a fist pump.

And so, you dance. You don’t really know what you’re doing. In fact, you’re trying not to even really think about it, and just focus on moving around to the beat of the music. Before you know it, you’re both laughing and messing around, Eric shrieking when you decide to chase him with a small throw pillow you grabbed from his couch.

“Die!”, you yell dramatically as you chuck the pillow at Eric who goes down with a long ‘nooooo!’ as he tries to dodge and fails. When he realizes that you’re out of ammo, an evil grin spreads on his face as he decides to turn the tables and begins chasing you instead. You giggle as Eric runs after you, almost tripping over your own feet. Eventually, you’re cornered and you can see the wheels turning in his head as he decides what sort of silly revenge he should take. But he doesn’t even get the chance to make a decision when a new song begins, slow and sensual, changing the atmosphere entirely.

Your breath falters and the look in Eric’s eyes has gone from mischievous to almost… vulnerable? You’re now very aware of the way he has you trapped in the corner of his living room, and he seems to be, too. And yet… neither of you attempt to move. Eric’s eyes are full of both hope and worry and he opens his mouth and in a tone that is more nervous than you have ever heard him speak in, he asks,

“Do you want to dance? For real this time?”

~~~

Unspilled tears line your eyes. You’re finally this close to what you want and now that it’s right in front of you, you’re panicking. Suddenly your emotions have overwhelmed you and you’re terrified. You aren’t even being rejected, it’s the exact opposite. Nothing Eric has done tonight has suggested anything other than that he wants you and yet you’re scared. Scared you’re reading it wrong, afraid that you’ve missed the signal that indicates that this is all just a big joke.

Eric has his arms around your waist and forehead against your neck as he slow dances with you. He can’t see the anxiety on your face and he doesn’t know you’re freaking out. You do everything in your power to keep your breaths steady and even, but you can’t and you watch in slow motion as Eric’s face falls when he looks up and witnesses your expression.

He immediately cups your face with one of his palms. “Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me… please,” Eric pleads. You sniffle but can’t stop yourself from leaning into his touch.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, blinking back your tears. Eric’s face is a mixture of concern and confusion.

“No,” he insists. “Don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong. I don’t know why you’re upset, but I promise, I’m not gonna get mad at you.”

“I’m just scared…” you choke out, “that none of this is real. That I’m misinterpreting everything. That… whatever it is you’re doing right now… doesn’t really mean anything to you and I missed the memo. I shouldn’t assume that I’m being tricked based on a few things that happened to me in the past but…” Tears are rolling down your face now and you’re barely holding together what little composure you have left. Eric wipes some of your tears away with his thumb and returns his hand towards your waist.

“Fuck,” he mutters, but there’s no anger in his tone. “I was trying to seduce you tonight, I never meant to bring up those feelings.” Your breath hitches and you’re so stunned you immediately stop crying. You stand there blinking at him, utterly bewildered. Eric chuckles awkwardly. “Why do you think I did my hair and dressed up tonight? I wanted to look good,” he smiles softly, “…for you.”

“Wh- why for me?” You stutter, unable to fully process the situation.

“Because I like you,” Eric replies, “Even if you’re a bit dense sometimes.”

Words fail you completely. The way he smiles at you, it’s like he has the stars in his eyes and you’re drowning in them, hoping you never have to surface. “You like me? Even though I’m…” You don’t have it in you to finish your sentence.

“I like you because you’re…” Eric says, imitating the way you left off the last few words. “I think you’re beautiful, you know,” he says running his hand through your hair. You want to trust him so badly but part of you still has a hard time believing it.

“So… you don’t care that I don’t look like a ‘girl’.”

“I don’t,” Eric confirms. “I think you’re attractive even when other people mistake you for a guy.”

You aren’t crying anymore, but you’re still overwhelmed and your breath shakes as you exhale. Before you even realize it, your hands are moving from Eric’s shoulders to wrap around the back of his neck, playing with the hair at his nape. You hear Eric sigh softly as he tilts his face up towards yours until your lips are mere inches apart. It’s as if you’re being pulled together by magnets the way you angle your face down ever so slightly towards his and he raises his heels off the ground to reach you. The feeling when Eric’s lips finally meet yours is euphoric. You don’t care that it’s awkward the way your noses or teeth sometimes clash because you have no idea what you’re doing right now. You’re just happy to finally be this close to him even though you’ve just made your lack of experience incredibly obvious.

Eric doesn’t seem to care too much either, the way his hands explore your face, back, and waist as if he’ll never be able to get enough of you. All it took was one taste and you know you’re already addicted to having his hands on your body and his lips against yours. Right as you’re thinking that you hope this will never end, Eric pulls away, leaving you feeling disoriented. “Fuck,” he gasps, gripping your waist. The two of you are panting, but with the way he stopped so abruptly, you feel like you’ve been deprived of oxygen, not afforded more of it.

You try to kiss Eric again but your heart sinks a bit when he stops you. “Wait,” he says breathlessly, “I want to take things slow with you. You deserve to have someone properly take their time with you and put you first. I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything just because I’m a bit impatient.” Your cheeks feel hot.

“What if… you aren’t the only one who’s impatient?”, you suggest shyly. You feel Eric’s fingers dig into your sides and he moans slightly.

“Don’t- don’t tempt me like that,” he says shakily, clearly struggling to hold himself together. You’re struck with a sudden sense of boldness.

“I want you, Eric.” As soon as his name leaves your mouth, his lips are on yours again and then he’s spreading small kisses all over your face which quickly becomes wet, open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You thread your fingers in his hair when he begins to drag his tongue up the skin of your throat. Eric moans against your skin when he hears you sighing his name.

His hands sneak under your shirt to caress the skin of your waist and the sensation of finally having his hands directly on you is so satisfying that you almost don’t start wondering if he can feel the obvious fuzz on your lower back underneath his finger tips. You choose to ignore that thought for now, instead focusing on the way Eric’s mouth is exploring every inch of skin he can access while you still have your shirt on. You’re self conscious still, but you undo the first few buttons of your shirt to let Eric roam further with his lips. He pulls you backwards into to his bedroom, lips never leaving your skin, until he falls back onto his bed, pulling you down with him. You let him roll you over onto your back so that now he’s on top and you’re underneath him.

“Fuck, I want to touch you,” Eric rasps, looking at you with sparkling eyes. You’re about to immediately say yes, then something stops you.

“I… have body hair…” you admit awkwardly. It’s a bit of an understatement, but you’re not sure what else to say. Saying, ‘I was called an animal by the other girls in the middle school locker room,’ would probably not help the mood.

“There’s nothing wrong with a little body hair,” Eric says reassuringly, but the gesture doesn’t help.

“That’s the problem,” you mumble. “It’s not just a little, it’s a lot.”

“Baby, it’s not gonna make me want you any less,” Eric says, leaning up to kiss your cheek. You sigh.

“Promise?”

“Promise. I still really wanna use my fingers on you or go down on you, if you’ll let me.” A shiver runs down your spine.

“Okay,” you acquiesce quietly. Eric runs his hands up and down your sides underneath your top and you allow him to unbutton it the rest of the way, letting it fall off your shoulders. He presses kisses over your sternum, smoothing his hands over your bra and trailing his lips along the path of hair running down your abdomen.

“You’re beautiful,” Eric whispers, his voice brimming with affection. He stops right above the waist of your pants and looks into your eyes, silently requesting to take them off. You nod shyly, and agonizingly slowly, he begins to unbutton them and pull down the zipper. As your pants are pulled down your legs, you become nervous again. You’re wearing underwear, of course, but they do little to hide the amount of hair you have.

“Can I touch you?”, Eric requests softly. You swallow your anxieties and say yes, trying to hide how worried you feel. You yelp in surprise as he pinches your outer thigh gently to get your attention. “Baby, I promise I want you,” he reassures, his calm eyes gazing into your apprehensive ones. “Give me your hand.” He rests his chin on your pubic bone and looks up at you. Eric may have a bit of a smirk on his face, but his eyes are full of sincerity. You allow him to reach up and lace his fingers with yours, giving your hand a small squeeze. “There you go, you’re so good for me,” he praises fondly, delicately trailing the fingers of his free hand over the damp patch that has formed in your underwear.

Eric presses a kiss over the fabric before he asks if he can take them off. Once you give him permission, he pulls them down your legs, tossing them aside, then instructs you to open your legs a bit and put them over his shoulders. You comply. This whole time, Eric still hasn’t let go of your hand. Your bottom half is completely bare now and one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen, one you’re head over heels for, has his face between your thighs.

Your insecurity doesn’t even get the chance to fully resurface because with every kiss he presses to your inner thighs, Eric gives you a compliment. The closer he gets to your core, the more he reminds you how much he wants you, needs you, thinks you’re beautiful. Eventually, he reaches his destination and uses his fingers to spread your folds to get an unobstructed view. You don’t even realize how wet you are right now until you feel Eric’s fingers dip shallowly into your entrance and then rub your slick all over your clit. A small whimper slips out at the unexpected sensation. You didn’t realize how different it would feel to be touched by someone else for once.

You’re even more surprised when he attaches his mouth and begins to alternate between sucking and little flicks with the tip of his tongue. You gasp and grip his hand tighter, your other hand shooting down to grab at Eric’s hair. It’s not until he starts moaning that you realize he’s begun to grind his hips into the mattress as he eats you out. The sight alone is almost enough to make you cum. You can barely believe that not only do you have a gorgeous man burying his face in your pussy, but he’s getting off on it too. Eric suddenly moans extra loudly and the combination of hearing such a dirty sound come from his mouth and feeling his voice’s vibrations in your clit finally pushes you over the edge.

Choking out a high pitched moan, your body trembles and your hips spasm and you don’t think you’ve ever orgasmed harder than this in your life. You’re gasping and panting as you come down and you let your body go slack. “Oh my god,” you say with a bit of a laugh, your chest still heaving. Eric has a self-satisfied look on his face and normally you might find that annoying, but after the way he made you cum just now, you think it’s absolutely warranted.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and moves up the bed to cage you between his arms and give you a peck on the corner of your mouth. “Good?” Eric asks, still smirking a bit.

“I feel kinda like I’m floating,” you sigh with a blissful smile.

“Do you wanna keep going or are you done for the night?”, Eric inquires.

“I can keep going,” you insist, “just let me catch my breath first. Besides, it would feel awfully unfair if you got to see me naked tonight but I only got to see you fully dressed.”

“You’re still wearing a bra,” Eric points out cheekily. You roll your eyes good-naturedly.

“That’s not the point.”

“I know, I know, I’m messing with you,” he jokes, rolling off of you to sit up next to your reclining figure. “But I still would like to see you with your bra off,” Eric says cheekily.

“I suppose that could be arranged,” you say with a sly smile as you sit up. Reaching behind your back, you unhook it and let the garment slide down your shoulders. Eric looks intently at your breasts as you toss your bra on the floor.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he mutters under his breath, continuing to stare. Based on his facial expression you don’t think he’s even aware that he said anything. Eric reaches out a hand and stops only inches away from your chest before he asks, “can I?”

“As much as you like, Eric,” you confirm, obsessed with the way his mind seems to be almost crumbling just from looking at your tits. He finally closes the distance with his hand, grabbing and gently massaging the flesh and his mouth finds your nipple on the other side, running his flattened tongue over it then taking it into his mouth, beginning to suck.

Originally, you just agreed to let him do this for his own enjoyment. You didn’t expect to get so much more out of someone else touching your breasts than you did when it was just yourself. You’re unable to hold back a pleasured sigh due to how enthusiastic Eric is with his mouth and hands. He pulls his lips off of you with a slight ‘pop’ and before you can even register what’s happening, he’s biting down on the inside of your breast causing you to yelp in surprise.

Immediately, Eric apologizes, but there’s little remorse in his voice as he proudly watches the red mark bloom on your skin. He dives back in to kiss and lick the newly formed bruise. He goes up to kiss your mouth and he’s grinning widely, incredibly pleased with himself.

“Happy with your results?”, you ask, quirking an eyebrow.

“Extremely,” Eric says chuckling. You flick his forehead lightly.

“There’s something you need to fix, though,” you tell him.

“Fix?”

“Yeah. This whole situation still feels awfully unfair,” you complain jokingly. You almost can see the gears turning in his head and then a lightbulb turning on.

“Oh you mean this?” Eric raises his eyebrows with a smirk then gets off the bed to stand in front of it so you can watch him as he takes his shirt off.

“What a smart boy,” you praise sarcastically, watching him hungrily as he begins to remove his pants too. But when he’s finally down to just his underwear, your jaw drops a little bit. You hadn’t paid attention earlier but now that you’re looking, it’s impossible to deny that Eric is big. And this is only from what you can see while he’s still got a layer on. His smile is wolfish as he notices you staring.

“Got anything to say?”, Eric teases, crawling back on top of you and dragging his teeth down your neck with a chuckle. You just moan in response as he sucks another harsh mark onto your skin, this one directly at the base of your neck.

“No fair,” you whine, squirming underneath him. He bites you a couple more times, then you grab his chin. “Can’t I have a turn?” Eric simply hums in agreement then rolls onto his back and pulls you on top of him so that you’re straddling his hips. When you put your weight down, you can feel how hard he is within his underwear and you briefly wonder what it will be like once he’s inside you. Having him underneath you lights an unexpected fire in your belly and you’re suddenly consumed by the need to own him, have him as yours.

Which is exactly what you plan to do… as soon as you confirm one thing. “Eric,” you murmur, pecking him softly on the lips, “this isn’t just sex, right?” Eric smiles fondly at you.

“God, no. I want to be with you. Unless… that’s not what you want?” He looks at you hopefully.

“I want the same thing,” you agree and with a sudden rush of boldness, you lean down and mumble against his neck, “I needed to be sure that you were mine.” When you hear a shuddering breath escape Eric and feel his dick twitch in response, you know that you’ve had quite an effect on him. You roughly drag your front teeth down the side of his throat, pondering how to go about marking him. “Can I put marks where people can see? You’ll let me claim you, yeah?”, you beg softly, placing gentle kisses along his collarbone.

“Fuck… I didn’t realize you’d have a possessive streak,” Eric groans. “That’s really sexy.” He suddenly lets out a gasp of pain when you bite down. You move your lips to his jawline, right beneath his ear and pull a bit of skin between your teeth and start sucking hard. When you pull away and see the mark darkening on his skin, you feel yourself swell a little with pride at your success. You repeat this along his jaw and down his neck until Eric has a noticeable path of bruises reaching his shoulder.

With your full weight, you settle your hips back down on his, rubbing yourself along his clothed cock and relishing the way you can feel your arousal soaking through his underwear. Eric moans loudly but then grabs your hips to still your movements and sits up against the headboard. He emits a whine as you reposition yourself in his lap and run your hands over his chest.

“Can I fuck you now?” Eric’s eyes are desperate and ravenous. Nobody has ever looked at you like that before and it makes your insides burn with desire.

“…Yeah,” you choke out. You get off of him so he can finally uncover himself completely and you don’t expect your breath to hitch the way it does when erection springs free from its confines. “Holy shit,” you mumble, staring. How does it seem even larger up close? Is it even going to fit?

Without even really thinking about it, your hand reaches out hesitantly to touch him and you gasp in surprise when Eric takes your wrist and guides you the rest of the way. Experimentally, you pump him a few times before letting go to return to your original position in his lap.

It’s finally about to happen and you suddenly feel shy again, causing you to bite your lower lip and look into his eyes for reassurance. “We don’t have to go through with this if you aren’t comfortable,” Eric reminds you, but you shake your head.

“Please,” you beg.

“Anything for you,” Eric says, placing a quick kiss to your lips and then positions his cock right at your entrance as you kneel, hips hovering above his. You slowly sink down on him, barely enveloping him past the tip. It hurts more than you expected, but it almost feels good too, and you can’t help but let out a string of curses and broken moans as you try to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation. Pushing past the burn, you lower yourself down more, Eric praising you, running his hands soothingly over your thighs.

You’re panting as you dig your fingernails into his shoulders and if you didn’t pause to look at his face, you would have missed the way Eric is gazing at you as if you hold the whole universe in your hands. Neither of you has said those words yet, but right now, you can’t deny that you feel deeply and utterly loved. Loved by this person who chose to see you instead of just looking at you. You don’t want to say anything for fear of ruining this moment by taking things too fast, so you cup his cheek with one palm and hope that the gesture is enough for him to understand your heart. And when Eric flutters his eyes closed and leans into your touch, you get the feeling that he does.

It takes one more final push before you can feel him bottoming out inside you. You let your head fall back as you gasp for breath. “Please move,” you whimper. “I don’t think I can do it myself.” Eric pulls you towards him to press your torso against his, which lifts your hips slightly in the process. He uses the new angle to slowly pull himself out a bit then plants his feet to thrust back in from underneath you causing you to yelp and whimper. His movements are slow but strong, and the friction you feel inside makes your legs tremble. And much to your satisfaction, Eric isn’t remotely hesitant to be vocal, his extended moans, deep breathing, and occasional whines turning you on more than you’d like to admit. You feel like your whole body is burning from the inside out and you’re crying out his name like it’s the only word you know.

Gradually, Eric increases his pace and pretty soon, both of you have become an absolute mess — sweaty and covered in new bite marks, moaning each other’s names during the occasional moments when you aren’t kissing feverishly. You’re sure that at this point, you’re disturbing the neighbors, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not with the way you’re intoxicated from all of your senses being flooded with nothing but him. Eric is still fucking you hard, doing all the work from underneath and you wonder how he has the stamina to keep going like this. Deep inside, you can feel a familiar pressure building up again. Your orgasm begins to approach and from the way his thrusts become frantic and start to lose their rhythm, you know Eric is getting close too.

“Please, please, please…” you chant breathlessly as your walls begin to clench and spasm around him.

“Cum for me, please,” Eric begs you in return and then starts rambling fervently. “Just let go, please, you’re so good for me, please… I love you…”

And then you cum. Your orgasm crashes over you more intensely than you’ve ever experienced before and as you cry out and tremble in his arms, Eric’s words play over and over in your head. I love you. I love you. I love you. You don’t have the mental space right now to wonder if he even meant it or if it was something he just said in the spur of the moment. To you it felt real.

With a low groan, you feel Eric spill inside you, his hips stuttering until they still as he rides out his own orgasm. When you feel a hot tear drip down your face, you finally realize that you’re crying. You aren’t sure why at first — you aren’t upset, you aren’t in pain, everything seems to be fine. But when you look at Eric and he sees your glassy eyes and he starts to apologize, asking if he used the word ‘love’ too soon, suddenly it makes sense. You’re just emotionally sensitive right now and with a sniffle and your arms wrapped around his neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Eric kisses away your tears and smooths over your hair with his hand. His length slips out of you and you can feel sticky cum drip down your inner thighs as he flips you over and gently lays you on your back. He wastes no time in cleaning you up and soon enough he’s pulling a blanket over you and crawling into bed next to your still panting figure. Eric wraps you in his arms, pressing a sweet peck to your cheek. “Let’s just get to sleep, yeah?” He says and you allow yourself to doze off, safe and warm within his embrace.

~~~

When Monday rolls around, you don’t know how to feel about going to school with a few too many hickies to realistically cover up. You’re proud of who you got them from, but at the same time, you’re a bit mortified. People have been giving you weird glances since you arrived this morning and you know it’s because your neck is covered in bite marks and bruises. As you walk into the classroom, you see one or two people whispering and while you doubt they’re saying anything mean, it’s still embarrassing knowing that they can’t help but to mention to their friends how obvious it is.

Not long after you sit down, you hear a familiar voice cheerfully announce “Hey, babe!” You turn to smile at Eric who’s making his way towards you, giving you a quick kiss on the lips before he settles in the chair next to you. Both the simultaneous feelings of pride and humiliation return when it occurs to you that his neck looks just as bad as yours and now everyone can tell that you got those marks from each other. Regardless, you can’t suppress the smile that surfaces at the sight of your new boyfriend sitting next to you.

When class ends and you’ve both packed up your belongings, Eric grabs your hand and walks with you out of the room, swinging your intertwined hands as you go. You giggle at his affectionate gesture. “Any plans for the day?”, Eric asks as you walk leisurely through one of the campus’ green spaces.

“Hm,” you consider. “Not really. I was just considering grabbing some snacks and sneaking them into the library so I can eat while I study. Wanna come with?” Eric nods and soon enough you find yourself sharing a sofa in a more secluded study area, discretely feeding each other chocolate covered pretzels and trying not to laugh too hard at stupid videos you’re watching on his phone, the original plan to study completely forgotten.

You’re so content right now that nothing could spoil this moment for you. Not even when Gina (who usually makes your blood boil) accidentally happens upon the scene while Eric is pressing a long kiss to your neck, not even aware she’s there. You smile a little and wave and you can tell she’s noticed the marks decorating both your and Eric’s necks when she subconsciously touches her own, facial expression brimming with disgust. As you let out a brief chuckle, Eric detaches his lips from your skin and looks at you questioningly. He raises his eyebrows but you just shake your head. “Nothing important,” you say and run your hand through his hair. Eric shrugs.

“Okay.” Then he leans his head against your shoulder as you both absentmindedly fidget with each other’s hands, just enjoying the peaceful moment together.

“Eric?”, you ask, getting his attention.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

That’s all you say. You give no context, no explanation, but that’s okay because when you look into his eyes, you see that he knows exactly what you mean.

——end——

Holy shit I’ve never written something so long before or even thought about writing something this long. I think I might be insane. But that’s okay. It resulted in this fic and I’m happy with it.

[northern-passage]

In regards to that last ask.... I do agree that it’s great to see so much trans rep in interactive fiction, and like... I love nb lea. It’s very clear that you’ve put a lot of thought into their experiences with gender and that does mean a lot. ...However, the thing that bothers me is that the player is the one that gets to determine Lea’s (and Noel’s) experience with gender. As a nb person that has also had a long, complicated journey with gender, I can say that my experience has been that, no matter how good their intentions are, if you give cis people even an inch of “wiggle room” (ex: saying you use she/they pronouns, you identify as a girl and a boy, saying you use any pronouns etc etc) a majority of the time, they will use what is most comfortable for them while using excuses like “But it’s kind of uncomfortable for me, and you use those pronouns anyways right? So it’s fine to refer to you as a [insert agab here] right?” (This is based off of things that I’ve seen or experienced, to be clear.)

And like maybe I’m just cynical, and obviously not every trans/nb person has the same experience, but it’s just uncomfortable to think that if a cis person doesn’t like the idea of a character being trans or nonbinary, they can simply choose for them to... not be.

On the other hand, I do understand that you want to be able to represent a variety of identifies and experiences, and that’s a difficult thing to do when there are only 4 ros. And again, though as a general rule I don’t like nb gender selectable characters (for reasons previously stated), I do really love nonbinary and trans lea because of the care you’ve taken to write them and their experiences.

So... in the end I’m not sure what the best thing to do here is. I just figured since the discussion is happening, I should give my two cents as a genderqueer person, as I feel like it’s important to get as many different perspectives when representing minorities. (In truth, I had been thinking about sending in an ask broaching this subject before, but I didn’t want to add more stress when it seems like you’re constantly dealing with assholes and I wasn’t ever sure how to approach you about it sjdkfflflflfl. I can only apologize for taking this long to speak up 😔)

no need to apologize! these conversations are always intimidating on both sides, and like i said this is something i've had a lot of discussion about already with a lot of people behind the scenes, so it's not like it's blindsided me or anything.

i know exactly what you mean in regards to cis people - i've actually had this conversation with some other authors and readers. you're right, at the end of the day certain cishet readers are going to purposefully ignore a characters identity, no matter what it says in the text; people already do this with clementine, all the way to just outright misgendering them or requesting them to be gender selectable, even though they are literally locked nonbinary. i knew this would happen all the way back when i first posted the demo on the forums (and this is also a big part of why i no longer am active on the forums and have locked the thread) and it's something i've just kind of had to make peace with.

i know nothing i do will change these people's minds, and i have no interest in coddling them or holding their hands - and honestly my stories aren't for people like them, anyways. however, that being said i also don't want to perpetuate anything harmful that bigots can misinterpret and use against marginalized people in their real lives.

and i definitely get where you’re coming from when it comes to gender selectable characters - generally i don’t actually mind it myself, and i actually like it when i can make an RO nb, but i do think it becomes a problem when the author uses it to uphold cissexist and heterosexist ideas of gender and drastically changes the character.

like f!version is short and petite and wears lots of makeup and has long flowing hair…. but m!version is tall and muscular and has short hair and wouldn’t touch makeup with a ten foot pole lmfao like that shit is painful. i haven't really seen this much in wips, to be honest, but more in published games with cog/hg.

this is also where you tend to see no nb options, except for MC, and no other nb characters in the whole game, which makes it feel incredibly insincere and like the nb customization was just tacked on to the character creator as an afterthought.

which leads me to say that i do think people that include nb as a selectable option for ROs don't do it with the intention of letting cis people ignore the characters gender identity, but more so that they can just include nb people. it's just unfortunate that there will always be people that will twist that and use it to invalidate the nb identities.

i have noticed more recently though that a lot of authors refer to their gender selectable characters with gender neutral language on blogs/in extra content outside of their games, and request that readers do the same, and in my opinion it makes the effort to include the nb option more genuine, and it's something i really like seeing.

i do feel like IF in general is trending back towards gender-locking characters, though, and i don't think that's a bad thing, since i also feel that it's trending towards being more diverse and inclusive as well. it's exciting to see more locked nb RO options, or ROs who are gay, lesbian, or trans, etc.

my biggest take away from all of the conversations i've had so far is that... it IS difficult to come to a real satisfying conclusion. i've had a lot of really positive feedback regarding lea's identity, and now i've had some more critical feedback about it, as well. ultimately, gender is something we can talk about until the cows come home and everyone will still have different opinions and experiences. and with interactive fiction, you want the game to feel inclusive of all different kinds of MCs but you also don't want to compromise the characters and their identities. it's a lot to think about!! but i really hope i can find a good balance going forward.

thank you for sharing your thoughts. like i said before, this is something i've been thinking on a lot and always have in the back of my mind while writing - not just tnp but writing anything in general.

[transgenderteensurvivalguide]

Hi! I think I might be genderqueer, and I like to wear traditionally feminine things (makeup/dresses/high heels) but it also makes me uncomfortable because I don’t want people seeing me as a girl (I’m afab). If there a way to wear what I want without being read as female? Thank you!

Lee says:

Honestly, if you’re afab and pre-medical transitioning, sometimes you have to make a choice between passing and presenting yourself in a way that others will perceive as feminine. There’s just no way around that.

It’s totally a valid desire to wear makeup and dresses and high heels, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to do “feminine” things or present yourself with a feminine gender expression, and in an ideal world you’d be able to be recognized and respected as your real gender regardless of appearance.

Gender expression isn’t the same thing as gender identity:

The genderbread person

Separating Out Gender Identity from Gender Expression

What is gender expression?

So choosing to present yourself in a way that’s typically feminine like wearing dresses doesn’t make you any less valid as a non-binary person. It’s fine and valid to be non-binary and still present in a masculine or feminine way. You don’t have to have an androgynous appearance to be non-binary. So I’d like to make that clear before we continue..

Passing involves someone unconsciously and rapidly taking in a bunch of factors about your appearance, your voice, and your demeanor and then automatically mentally assigning you a gender. Some features are more important than others in this mental categorization; facial hair is often a bigger indicator than hip size, for example.

This isn’t like a conscious checklist people go through every time they see you; society trains our brains to automatically and unconsciously take in gendered features and categorize them as feminine or masculine to spit out a binary gender association.

But when you’re visibly gender non-conforming, or androgynous or just visibly non-cis, that tends to throw a wrench in the works and you can tell because the cis people start to like stare at your chest or something and you can see the gears turning in their heads as they try to figure out what gender you are- or more accurately, they want to figure out what gender you were assigned at birth and/or what genitals you have.

There are some afab people who haven’t medically transitioned and can still wear heels, makeup, and a dress and not be gendered by female by strangers. Binding, getting short hair, voice training, and sometimes fake facial hair and masculine makeup (in stage or cosplay settings usually) can help, but many afab people won’t be able to not be seen as female while wearing a dress even if they’re doing those things. There are lucky folks who just have the right genes and naturally look masculine enough to wear what they want and still pass- they do exist!- but that isn’t the case for most folks.

So if you’re on that line of passing vs not passing where you aren’t being consistently gendered as male or as female, those little gendered features and cues add up because people are consciously scrutinizing you. And the cues of “dress, high heels, makeup” are going to tip you into being read as a girl if you’re afab and on that middle line of passing.

It’s really hard to pass as non-binary- I’m also nb and I’ve found that strangers who can’t tell what gender you are sometimes refer to you with (maybe randomly chosen) gendered pronouns and gendered terms anyway because they’re stuck in a binary mindset and don’t know what else to do, or they become hostile and you find yourself getting shouted at when you enter the women’s locker room so you go to the men’s locker room and then they tell you to leave there too. 

This isn’t always the case, but yeah, it is hard to pass as non-binary so not wanting people to see you as a girl might mean compromising on them seeing you as a boy. But that’s my personal experience- and if you want to try to pass as non-binary then go for it, but you may want to lean towards the masc side of androgynous if you’re afab and don’t want to be read as a woman so if a stranger feels like they “have” to pick a binary to gender you as, then they won’t be as likely to pick female.

So if you’re not interested in medically transitioning, which is valid, you may find you have to counter the characteristics about your voice/body that are read as female by going towards as masculine gender expression. The clothing you wear, your hairstyle, all that is part of passing too, and the accumulation of traits is more important overall than just one single one. The links below have tips on passing as male:

How to pass as male

Guide to being read as male

Passing tips

Transmasculine passing tips

FTM passing tips

Passing and presentation

Masculine body language

How do I know if I’m passing?

If you’re constantly passing (and obviously hormones help with this) you can often get away with “bigger” things and still pass. When you’re pre/non-HRT, the small things add up because they have to counter the unwanted feminine/masculine things about your bod, but when you’re passing more consistently then something like wearing makeup will stop being cuing that automatic misgender because they’re going to read other gender cues that they deem as more significant. 

Testosterone FAQ

Top surgery

Facial masculinization surgery

Body masculinization surgery

Hysterectomy and oophorectomy

Bottom surgery (genital surgery)

But- if you do end up passing, either through changing your presentation and/or HRT, and strangers do see you as a man wearing a dress instead of as a woman wearing a dress, you’re going to face some toxic masculinity and misplaced transmisogyny. So there are safety risks there too because you could be harassed.

As for right now, you might have to choose between not being seen as female and your ideal presentation if you’re a pre-everything AFAB person and you tend to get misgendered when you wear makeup, heels and a dress. Either choice is valid, but there is a choice.

However, you don’t have to fully do one or the other, and it’s possible to wear heels and makeup on some days, then present yourself in a typically masculine way on other days to pass.

All that applies to strangers though- if you surround yourself with supportive friends who will respect your non-binary identity, you should be able to wear whatever you want to around them and they shouldn’t gender you as female because they understand that you aren’t, no matter what you wear. 

You may have to explain your nb identity and the difference between gender identity and gender expression, but there are people out there who will love and support you even if you don’t have them around you just yet. 

Having that network of social supports who will always gender you correctly will help even if you can’t get strangers to do so, and we have a Dysphoria page with tips on coping with dysphoria which may be helpful for the times when you don’t get gendered correctly. 

[ashby-santoso]

I’m really here for some queer Harry/Ginny headcanons

Bi Ginny likes flying with the Holyhead Harpies because there are lots of other queer women there. Her mother still doesn’t really understand why it’s important, and her father is supportive but asks millions of questions...but thank Merlin, Harry just gets it. He does a bunch of the admin in the background for her, and jokes around with her team mates, and when she hears about a new sport they’re playing in the states he runs lots of the errands and makes the sign-up sheets while Ginny does all the front-line organising. She is completely psyched for running the UK’s first magical roller derby league.

NB Ginny who was always a tomboy but never thought it might mean something more, who worries Harry won’t want them, who lives under the crushing weight of misgendering every day...NB Ginny is working on getting their shit together. They cut their hair short to try and make people see them right - it doesn’t work so sometimes they still charm it long because they like the way it frames their face. They do what they fucking want thanks. (But it’s lonely.) (And they’re tired.) But since they came out, they’ve had a few old school friends get in touch unexpectedly. Luna’s no surprise, but Dean Thomas? It’s a funny way to reconnect with an ex, but Dean’s been making friends with all the queers in london and they can show Ginny around and make them feel normal again and honestly thank merlin for genderqueer exes.

Trans boy Ginny didn’t know anything about transness. He worried that the masculine aspect of himself was Tom Riddle, still inside him. It was Harry coming out to him as bi that finally made him break down, and the years between his 22nd and 25th birthdays were just a patchwork of fear and pain and loneliness…but also, ultimately, of growth. Every version of Ginny has intrusive thoughts about Tom Riddle, and in the end every version has learned to manage them, even if it was harder for some than others. But anyway, things are better now. He knows where he’s at, mostly. And Harry says his new stubble is cute. (It takes a while for anyone to remember that Arthur Weasley had 6 older brothers, and that this makes trans boy Ginny the 7th son of a 7th son...but that’s another story.)

Trans girl Harry (just like all the Harrys) hates the press, but Colin Creevey’s been moving higher and higher at the Daily Prophet and he does love to write about her. It’s hard to be annoyed when it’s all articles about her latest Quidditch successes and recaps of key moments in the second war, the text still humiliatingly enthusiastic but emblazened with THE GIRL WHO LIVED in enormous print. Ginny buys them all and pins them up in the bathroom to make her laugh. Molly Weasley has taken to knitting Harry fluffy, aggressively pink jumpers with curly H’s on them and she’s not sure how to tell Molly that she’s actually kind of a butch lesbian and her wardrobe is 90% flannel. It’s ok though, Hermione basically lives in Weasley jumpers these days because the unspeakables tend to work long hours in cold rooms with no dresscode. The two of them have this cute little butch-and-femme-best-pals routine going on and it’s fun to give her the jumpers and then borrow them back sometimes.

Ace Harry thought he couldn’t really be with anyone, and it was chewing him up inside. Ron couldn’t see what the fuss was about - “well, could you just date somebody and not have sex with them?” - which was sort of unhelping but also sort of really comforting. Hermione made him worried he might have all sorts of deadly diseases (“Google says it could be a symptom –”) until she found AVEN and figured it out. Harry cried. He and Ginny had lots of conversations, and it was painful but they said everything they needed to and then they got married. A little while later, Charlie talks to Ron who talks to Fleur who talks to Bill who talks to Ginny who encourages Harry to go to France to visit Bill. Fleur declares that she Knew Eet All Along and Bill takes him out to a grotty Parisian bar to meet a motley assortment of other aces and aros with an array of partners, friends and hangers-on. Being Bill’s friends, they are all much cooler than Harry and want to talk about things like French anarchist politics and how to look after facial piercings, but they also make asexuality jokes at every opportunity and they’re obviously keen to make him feel included. It’s…nice. He’s still mostly closeted but now he has a little fantasy of starting up an ace pick-up Quidditch team someday.

Ace Ginny takes years to figure it out. When she finally does, the really important things between her and Harry don’t change - the late-night conversations, the stupid Quidditch jokes, being there when he comes home from therapy every week. Knowing she’s ace makes her happier, calmer, more centred - but sometimes the weight of the world comes down on her shoulders, the weight of every book and film and conversation telling her there is something wrong with her. Then she doesn’t feel like touching him, doesn’t want to curl up and cuddle like she usually does - but this is nothing new for them. Harry has bad days of his own sometimes and so they already have their own little language of fist bumps instead of hugs, blown kisses and cups of tea and giving each other lots of personal space in a way that adds up to saying, I love you. Ginny starts volunteering at a wizarding LGBTQIA charity, and she doesn’t really talk about her personal life in the Daily Prophet interviews she does but she makes sure all the people who matter know where she’s at, and she makes sure everyone knows what she thinks. She supplies Harry with hundreds of shiny pamphlets to put in the back of his Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, so all his students will know it’s ok to be queer or ace or trans. The pamphlets disappear startlingly quickly, and he says it’s the only time he’s really proud to hear hero-worshipful teenagers saying Well HARRY POTTER told me or Did you know that GINNY WEASLEY says...

[bitter-bitchbites]

Genuine question, if being trans isn't seen as a medical condition isn't that a bad thing? Insurance wouldn't cover life saving surgeries/hormones, so isn't that detrimental and against the trans communities interests?

“fair” point in theory, but you’re not seeing the matter from the right angle, because you got a transantagonistic and cissexist bias.

being trans isn’t a medical condition and it does not inherently implies medical care. 

transitioning does. like, yeah, hrt, surgeries, stuff that some trans people need so their dysphoria stop beating them in a metaphorical bloody pulp, because they need their body changed so they stop feeling so suicidal. insurance should cover that, because yeah, their mental health and life depend on it.

and no, the “trans” isn’t short for “transitionning”. it’s short for “transgender”, that was thought to contrast with “cisgender”, and “trans” has the sense of “crossing to the other/another side here, while “cis” means staying on the same side one starts on, more or less. that’s ancient greek, i think. so being trans isn’t defined by transitionning. transitionning is a choice, and sometimes it’s not, because sometimes it’s the only solution to not break because of dysphoria.

because of course, dysphoria is also its own medical thing, it’s a mental disorder, that can cause depression, self harm, self hatred, and suicidal urges.

but not every trans person has deadass terrible dysphoria that we can’t deal with without changing our bodies at a high price. some have mild dysphoria, that they can deal with haircuts, different clothes, and shaping their bodies in one they like themselves as and all. sometimes it’s bargaining because they can’t afford surgery, but sometimes, they just don’t feel like they need surgery. and yeah im mainly talking about nb trans ppl, altho there gotta be binary trans ppl who are like that too. i just know that it’s smtg we nb ppl often feel like. 

nonbinary ppl show that (hence why transmedicalists aka truscums hate us, tho idk why they care so much about pathologizing us and themselves). we don’t always hate our body. there are trans ppl, nb or not, that don’t suffer dysphoria, because dysphoria isn’t smtg you’re born with, it’s a disorder that’s caused by a bad environment that triggers it. 

extreme example, imagine a trans boy who’s forced at age 0 into pink dresses, pink shoes, pink hats, drinks from pink cups, in a pink chair, sleeps in a pink bed, in a pink room. and he’s said “you’re a girl girly girl” all the time, goes to dancing class because “that’s what girls do”, is put on make up cuz “that’s what girls like” and can’t put on pants cuz “that’s not a girl thing”. forced in a cissexist bs mold. a nightmare. it’s not that that makes him a boy, he was a boy at age 0, regardless or circumstances; but he grew in an environment he could not be comfortable exploring his identity and questioning his assigned gender. and that’s going to worsen his already possible dysphoria. 

but being trans isn’t what’s going to make him break down and slap his abusive mother with that fucking pink violin, and run away to live with his bf in the next state raising cats, no, that’s his anger caused by the hurt of his many mental illnesses, dysphoria being one of them.

being trans doesn’t cause pain. it’s dysphoria’s fault. and not every trans person has dysphoria, and sometimes nb ppl have dysphoria, and sometimes not and they’re still trans, and some trans ppl’s dysphoria goes away at some point. but being trans doesn’t.

and take me for example. i have dysphoria. had it since i was 10. im a demigirl. that’s a nb(trans) woman identity. but i don’t wanna change my body with surgery. i don’t want to take away parts of myself, because i got enough of that, and i want to love my body. so instead i wanna add stuff, like letting my body hair do its thing, and not wearing bras and getting muscles, and asking ppl to use they/them for me, and not try and push me into being whatever tf they think a cis girl does. and that, plus mental work on my image, helped me tone down my dysphoria. maybe i’ll see if i can get hormones, if it doesn’t turn out i already have pocs. i was sick because of my dysphoria. not because im trans.

there’s a lot of cases like this that are weird and hard to understand, maybe, but they all point to one thing: the problem is dysphoria and other mental illnesses caused by being misgendered and abused.

i wanna be trans. i like that. it’s good, it’s me, it helps me, the community is mostly nice, im at peace with that label, and i don’t want to have it taken off. because that’s what it’d mean, to see transidentity as a medical condition. it’s be an illness. something to correct, to fight, to destroy. i don’t want to fight myself. neither does the majority of trans ppl.

so no, not pathologizing transidentity isn’t anywhere near detrimental to the trans community. because we still have valid problems that deserve specific attention, we still have dysphoria, we still want to transition, and we deserve the health care that we need to cope with cissexist abuse. the problem isn’t being trans. it’s the environment, the ppl, the society we live in. and doctors already know that. they don’t allow you to get hrt on insurance because you’re trans. they do because they dx you have dysphoria. that’s literally how they decide if we deserve to get the treatment we know we need. sometimes they won’t even dx ppl with dysphoria that they have dysphoria, because they’re “too mentally ill for that”, or “too sane to be trans”. and hormones don’t even cost as much as we gotta pay them. the prices are artificially inflated, like most medicines, because a compagny own them.

trans ppl don’t need to be pathologized to get the issues linked to our marginalized identity acknowledged. insurance would/should cover surgery and hrt regardless of what ppl think being trans is. because when we say we got a fucking problem or need things, we should be listened.

we would be, if our society cared. we wouldn’t be pathologized if our governments weren’t cissexist trans-hating little shits.

another example, a comparison this time. being afab isn’t an illness. but we still need medical attention, like detecting breast and uterus cancers, or other gyneacological treatment that can be a matter of life and death. and to that, you add the mental baggage caused by being in a mysoginistic cissexist patriarchy. sounds like worth being covered by insurance, uh? well not to many pseudo-civilized countries, but to the happiest on earth, it does, and it works. and yet being afab, especially a cis woman, isn’t an illness, or a curse.

because yeah, we also used to think that women were inherently sick and taht they needed men’s guidance and validation to be allowed to live, it’s just the same fucking mentality, but applied to trans ppl, with cis ppl. 

we’re not the correct gender, we don’t even perform it correctly, so we’re not worth being cared and listened to.

that’s victim blaming. that’s putting ppl under oppression, making them grow in a toxic environment they can’t escape from because it’s their very identity that’s thought to be inherently hostile, and we tell them it’s their fault. that they’re sick and that’s it.

considering being trans a medical condition is fucking murder. you’re placing the power in cis ppl’s hands doing that, because that means we’re to be corrected, and only them can do that. it also gatekeeps from getting treatment. it also misplaces the blame on our identity when it should be on our oppression.

being transmedicalist is allyship to the cistem. that’s believing the lie they made up to say we only deserve care if we accept that we’re sick, and to be ashamed.

im repeating myself, but insurance should cover our treatments for our dysphoria, and let us do what we wish of our bodies and identity as we endanger no one. nobody is allowed to call us ill for what we are while ignoring what we suffer of. we should get at least partially insurance covered surgery and hrt and completely insurance covered when we have dysphoria. it’s possible. spain does it, in good enough conditions. yeah, spain, the catholic country that was still a royalist dictatorship fourty years ago. and france too, can do the insurance coverage, even if it’s harder because you need psychiatric approval first, which is bs and intrusive. 

we aren’t sick for being trans, we deserve to be listened on our terms, that’s not a fleeting dream, and that’s not up to debate. 

and we’re going to change shit so we can get that.

[writterings]

hey im nb/ag and my name is alex but anyway i really want to start T but my family is really, really poor and im guessing my insurance doesn't cover that and im also worried that if i start it I won't like it or something but i want a lower voice and to look less like a girl ffffffff dysphoria is my middle name tbh .,..,., ., .

hey alex, i’m so sorry for answering this late!! i’ve been on mobile literally all day yesterday and today and i felt as though this ask needed a longer answer than i was able to type on my phone. 

anyways! dsyphoria sucks major ass, and if it was a physical thing i would punch it for you. HOWEVER, i do have some advice that could possibly help if you’re interested, and some advice on going on T. 

i’ll put that all below the cut:

T Facts:

first things first, some insurances offer coverage for hormones. i suggest you look into company yours is through and to what extent it goes to (basically just google your insurance company’s name along with “hrt” or something like that, you should find answers pretty quick)

next, T does drastically change your body -- but at a gradual pace. if you see something you don’t like happening, it’ll be pretty easy to quit T and that certain effect should wear off after you stop your use. just be warned, if you do continue T beyond that point, that effect will develop however. 

T can cause cystic acne, hair growth all over your body, and clitoris enlargement (bc a penis is actually an overgrown clit tbh -- but that’s just another story), BUT it can also cause vocal cords thickening for a deeper voice, increased body muscles, and your jaw may become squarer. there are also other side effects -- both good and bad -- and if you’re seriously considering going on T i recommend researching it thoroughly. 

the price of T can range tremendously, especially in regards to what type you get (ex: shots vs pills vs patches). i suggest you research that as well and figure out which form of it would be the best for you considering your family’s situation. 

you typically need a gender therapist/a therapist in general to help get you on T. medical doctors want a note saying yes, indeed, you are trans before they give you any hormones. luck with this many vary. 

****disclaimer: please note i am not on T and have not taken it, i’ve just researched it along with my gender therapist a lot considering i am trying to get on it within the next few months/this school year 

Passing/Kicking Dsyphoria’s Ass/Looking Less Like A Girl:

this part is easier and cheaper than going on T tbh. first things first, you’re going to want to work on your mannerisms. to talk the talk, ya gotta walk the walk pretty much tbh. the things below will help you with the whole “appearing less like a girl” thing:

square your shoulders and stand with them back when you walk. this doesn’t have to be all the time, but it makes you look taller, thinner, and more intimidating. guys tend to walk like this, and it could be good for presenting androgynously for when you’re not exactly presenting as a guy.

when walking, look over people’s heads in the direction you’re going in. they’ll subconsciously get out of your way then. guys tend not to move out of the way for people when they’re about to collide when walking at each other, so this will help

spread your legs when you sit

take up as much space as you want when walking/standing somewhere (without being rude)

don’t look people in the eye as much when you talk to them

shake people’s hands when you meet them. and i mean. all the time. especially if it’s a guy. even if you’ve met them before.

now here’s some fashion advice:

get a binder. a good one. i personally recommend getting a gc2b one, directly off their website and ordering a size above the one you would usually wear in shirts. it WILL make you as relatively flat as you need, but will take some breaking in. their binders are about 30$ so if you need to save up, i seriously recommend investing in them. research the risks of binding, also. 

you don’t need a packer. no one cares that much to check down there.

don’t wear button down shirts unless you’re at a formal event. button down shirts call too much attention to you when you’re someplace casual, and people will stare. because they’re staring at you too long, they’ll stare at the parts they shouldn’t be  and then misgender you as a girl. however, they do think they’re properly gendering you, of course -- cis people pride themselves on figuring out people’s “”””Real”””” genders and then calling them she/he despite how the person is not dressed like a she/he. (and they don’t even consider the person is a “they”)

wear t-shirts instead, and one that’s in your proper size. no baggy Ts. regular, fitting ones are lighter and more form fitting so they make you look more attractive and they call less attention to yourself. don’t worry about your breasts or curves showing if you have them -- if you look androgynous or like a guy enough people won’t question them. (and this is coming from someone with double d breasts who just got called a “he” in walmart despite how i was only wearing a sports bra)

cargo shorts are ugly but literally talk to any guy and he owns like ten pairs. also every butch lesbian friend i have loves them as well. they’re a win if you’re aiming for androgyny/looking more masculine. they also have so many pockets. i recommend cargo shorts. 

wear your pants/shorts below your belly. it’s just a guy thing to do. 

TAKE CARE OF YOUR SHOES!!!! AND GET GOOD ONES!!! you’re agender but i don’t know how much you want to look like a guy, but lemme tell ya guys take GOOD CARE of their shoes. literally, once i started passing as a guy all the dudes at my school starting making fun of my shoes because they were a no-name brand and had holes in them. shoes are important. i can understand if you can’t afford jordans or doc martins (bc i sure as hell cant lol) but just take care of what you got. 

grooming/personal care

don’t shave your legs

let your eyebrows grow out

ditch the bangs. bangs are feminizing. (i recommend a fade away tbh -- they’re pretty androgynous haircuts)

tbh i recommend shaving your pits because they get smelly if you don’t

shave your face. everyone naturally has peach fuzz on their face and teenage boys typically start shaving off whatever they got on them when they reach high school. also, it will start growing in more thicker and faster when you do this, if you want a beard. 

voice

you can actually naturally lower your voice without going on T. 

first, you can try speaking at a lower pitch. this will hurt after you do it for a while so i don’t recommend it too much. 

you can also try vocal exercises to warm up to that. i personally use the “bing-bong-king-kong” method, where i say all those words and go down a pitch on each word, and draw out the syllabels so it’s like “oooooong”

singing along to guy’s part’s in songs and trying to match their pitches actually helps a lot! i hope your a musical fan because trying to do “waving through a window” from dear evan hansen has actually helped me a lot

this link should help you

anyways...that’s all the advice i got! sorry if you weren’t actually looking for advice tho lol. i hope this was able to help in some way. if you ever need someone to talk to, my inbox and DMs are always open. good luck, alex.

[mystrothedefender]

Do you have any stories about knowing how you were trans or like how you transitioned to become satisfied with yourself? (you dont have to answer if youre uncomfortable with it)

It’s ok I don’t mind answering questions like this coz I figure it might help a couple of kids figure out who they are.

See I haven’t actually transitioned in the proper sense of the word, I’m not on T, I rarely bind my chest (but that’s because I hate the pressure it puts on my chest ugh kmn) or anything like that, I’ve transitioned in the sense that I only wear guys clothes, I have my hair short, and most importantly(to me at least) I think of myself as a guy and my partner is fully aware of my trans-ness and how far I plan to go in terms of transition(which is like all the fucking way lol).The reason I haven’t transitioned is that my partner and I are planning to have a kid and I want to wait until that’s over before I do anything, I don’t want to get stuck mid transition for 9 months.

Now, as far as stories about how I knew I was trans, I’m pretty sure I’ve posted about it before but it was ages ago and I don’t remember what I wrote. There are a few little things from my childhood that makes sense to me now as trans hints so to say -eg wishing I was able to pee standing(at the age of like 6), purposefully sitting like my dad/uncles, only wanting to play with the boys, and protesting to the teachers about being put on the girls team (’you’re such a self hating girl you need to get over it’-my year 10 english teacher) and stuff like that lol. But I didn’t really know through my childhood that I was trans, I didn’t know what being trans was, I just felt unhappy within myself, I thought it was because I was overweight but I lost like 5 stone when I was 19-20(most of which I have regained now) and it made no dent on my self image. I was like well then it must be something else. I was only just starting to get into the internet community at the age of 20, like fandoms and stuff, and through that I met several trans and NB people and like? Idk? There was something about them that drew me to them, and over about 3 months it slowly dawned on me that I was probably not cis, a lot of their stories about their self image issues resonated with me.At this point I started identifying as genderqueer/some kind of genderfluid. This was because I was lead to believe that in order to be ‘actually’ trans you had to feel dysphoria all the time, and at the time I had never experienced real dysphoria.Of course I now know this isn’t true.I do remember one instance when I was at work, I don’t remember what triggered it, but I ended up sitting on the toilets and crying because I had finally actually realised that I was 100% a trans man.I hid it for a while from everyone because I didn’t WANT to be trans. But I came to terms with it and then decided to tell my partner, I cried a lot, and he admitted he’d suspected it for a while and he was 100% supportive.I cannot tell you how fucking lucky I have been in regards to his response. He’s helped so much, he never misgenders me he does gender affirmation stuff with me and he actually helped me pick my name.

In the future, after we’ve become fathers, I plan to go full throttle on my transition and fulfill my Actual Life Dream of being a gay trans&passing dad. It’s gunna be great.

[panhasablog]

31 days of trans visibility, days 1-3!

I highkey forgot it was March so I am late to start but this post has a great list of day-by-day prompts about transness to respond to leading up to Trans Day of Visibility so! Here we go!

Day 1: Make yourself known. Tell the world your name, age, and how you identify. Post a picture of yourself.

Greetings! I am Pan! Sixteen and a junior in high school! I'm transmasculine NB and I use they/them or he/him pronouns! I took that selfie lying on the floor in a penguin onsie. Pleased to make your acquaintance!

Day 2: Talk about your process of discovery and realization. How did you come to realize you were trans?

Well I've never been gender conforming. I've always kept my hair short, I wore briefs and swim trunks long before I questioned my gender, and I knew I didn't want boobs the second they started showing up. Like I was so convinced there was something horribly, horribly wrong with me that I made my mom take me to the doctor. I was "mistaken" for a boy pretty much all the time and I didn't really mind it. I kinda liked when people were confused about my gender. (Fun fact: I met one of my best friends in first grade when she asked if I was a boy or a girl. Little did she know that ten years later that answer would change.) I started thinking about gender more when I went into high school and midway through freshman year my stance was basically "yeah I'm a girl but whatever, I'm totally cool with it if people see me as a guy. Actually being seen as a guy is kinda fun." But I still wasn't actively questioning what my gender was, more like my relationship with it. I started questioning my gender shortly after I made a tumblr, which happened to be in March right before TDoV 2015 and this one mutual reblogged lots of trans folks' selfies and I went "there's so many genders?? Wow I had no idea. Wait seriously I can be these things??" So now knowing that not being a girl didn't mean I had to be all the way a boy I started really actively questioning my gender and I started seeing a therapist to help me work things out and help me come out because wow did I have zero self-advocacy capabilities two years ago. So she helped me with all that and actually funny story I came out as a demigirl initially. Wow was I off the mark. I've had a pretty gradual self-understanding transition away from femininity and towards masculinity and it wouldn't really surprise me if in another year it turns out I'm all the way a guy but here I am now just sort of maybe a guy. I got more comfortable with my masculinity over this summer after spending two weeks in French immersion during which I used masculine language because gender-neutral French is too confusing to be worth it. And that's basically where I'm at now, and this response is getting pretty long, so I'm sure I can elaborate on more in later days!

Day 3: Talk about coming out. Are you out? Who did you come out to first? How did the people in your life react?

Like I talked about above, I started by coming out to my parents, who had a lot of questions but were understanding and accepting, then to my brother, who just said "okay" and looked around awkwardly as we waited for him to say more. He had no more to say. Next I came out to one of my friends at the end of freshman year as we were running the mile in PE, and she also pretty much just went "okay." Lots of people were very chill about it which I appreciate. Then at the start of sophomore year was when I like officially Came Out in general. I came out to the rest of my friends by forgetting I wasn't out yet and complaining about locker rooms. "Not using the locker rooms is a pain," I complained. "Why don't you use the locker rooms?" asked my friend curiously. "Because I'm trans?" I answered, bewildered that she had to ask. "You're trans?" she replied. Welp. That's one way to do it. I also came out to my teachers over e-mail at the start of the year. They all tried, but for the most part did not use the right pronouns or notice when they misgendered me. Sigh. The exception to this is my French teacher, who was (and still is) pretty much the coolest. She helped me research gender-neutral French language, let me change my French name in a heartbeat, and has just generally been very supportive and awesome which is one of the many reasons I love her. Family has all been for the most part uncomprehending but accepting, with the exception of one uncle who flat-out told my mom he refused to call me they and was going to call me she but when we actually saw each other next he did call me they and in fact misgendered me much less than the rest of the extended family. Also one of my grandpas spent like five minutes trying to understand my transness followed by like three hours trying to understand my aceness, which I'd think would be a lot easier to understand, but I guess not!

I could keep talking, but I've written up a solid wall of text already, so I will see you all tomorrow!