#I went to an all trans event and learned a lot about how to transition and it's fucking reassuring

[nekrosmos]

Putting off doing something for close to two years because it seemed scary only for said thing to end up not being that scary 😔​✌️​

[saphig-iawn]

Turning me into Me #22

Its been a little while since the last one of these. Illness can drive a helluva wedge into things, and that's what I've been doing lately; being ill. Usually I can just kinda get by if I get ill. I dose up, I drink plenty, I still try and eat even if the illness makes it taste weird. But this time I couldn't really just live with it because it was a wholly avoidable illness. Regular readers of these will know that my family are... difficult. They mean well in a lot of circumstances but that translates as them becoming hammers and treating all problems like nails. For them tradition is paramount, nothing can come before it, even illness. It almost got someone killed last year... A family member complained of a cough and cold, didn't seek help (because cis men don't need help they'd rather die). Turned out he was trying to work through pneumonia and not only had it collapsed a lung, it had caused severe damage to the other. When he finally went to the doctor they told him plainly, if you had waited much longer you'd be dead. That still didn't stop my family gathering for christmas and spreading illness to each other. Me and my girlfriend were sick with flu from just after christmas day to FEBRUARY thanks to them. This time round, it was a 2yr old's birthday party that just had to go ahead despite illness and only now, 2 and a half weeks later, am I feeling better.

This has made me realise that this year is going to be a year of reckoning, a year of fated, inevitable events. This time next year it is highly likely I'm going to be on HRT (holy fuck) which means my family will have to come to terms with who I am. I am transitioning regardless of how they feel. There have been enough people in my life who support and love me to know that my life will be no less complete if my family fall out of it. It does mean that I may need to play the game with them a little while longer, for one last play, one that will end the game. If I go to them with the sharp edged truth that I am their daughter and have been for some time, they will reject it. They'll call for the signs, they'll question me, they'll question my experiences. They will not, despite previous conversations and progress, accept wholeheartedly. I need to 'legitimise' my 'claim' like I have before. They're unable to let their child be honest with them about themselves, and have to parent and coddle and sweep the problem away.

The silver lining is that either path ends at the same place, the game coming to an end and my family learning that I am trans. Its comforting actually. They're the last barrier. I'm Me with friends, with colleagues, online, at home. They're outnumbered, and outgunned.

I will be Me, with or without them.

[kobold-that-bites-people]

it’s pride month, so i’m gonna take the opportunity to talk about something relatively serious for once.

if you have even half an opportunity, it is really important to actually mention queer stuff around other people. especially children. i’m not saying you have to personally educate everyone you meet, most people ain’t got time for that. but i am saying that there is a social avoidance of discussing even queer stuff as a topic in a lot of spaces.

let me give an example irl of what i mean. i’m trans. very openly so. and frankly, i could not have been more obviously trans when i was younger if i had tried. when i was a child in primary school, and we’d be divided into boys and girls for yard games, it was once phrased as “if you’d rather be a boy go on this side” and similar for the other. i of course, went over to the girls side, and was interrogated about why i could possibly want that. did anyone say that was even possible? mention the existence of trans people? no. nothing. similar events happened countless times through my life. i eventually figured out i liked guys towards middle and high school, and was quite openly gay. i remember so many people in that period who i’d complain to about how desperately i wished i was a girl, that i wasn’t a gay guy. did any of them mention the existence of trans people? no, of course not. even among queer people, they’d often give me a look when i’d talk about wishing i was a girl, that i didn’t have a gender, that i just hated being a guy, as if they knew something i didn’t. but did they say anything? no of course not.

and on and on it went, until one day i encountered the idea of being trans. the word trans. at a work diversity seminar of all things. i left the place yearning desperately more than anything in life that i was trans so i could transition. because that sounded like everything i had ever wanted. and i told people as such. but did they say anything? clarify that being trans wasn’t some obvious thing you were born with and would automatically know? no of course not.

eventually i did figure it out. after 23 years and meeting openly trans people online. but if literally anyone had brought up the possibility that i could be trans, when i was 5? 6? i would have leaped on it in a heartbeat.

and all that dancing around words, of refusing to discuss queer things around me for... no clear reason i know of. it didn’t help me. the extra time to think about it didn’t help without the words or concepts to even talk about what i was feeling.

what it did accomplish, was leave me with an entire experience of puberty, watching my body transform into something i desperately wished i could escape. it left me with countless scars as i carved at everywhere the body hair came in. scars on my chest, that felt wrong and empty and hard. it left me with a sharp pain in my heart every time a family member called me “handsome” or “manly”.

and when one day i eventually did find out. and came out as trans. and started talking about wanting different pronouns and for people to stop threatening to cut my hair while i slept, suddenly there was a change. everyone in my family suddenly wanted to introduce me to trans close friends of theirs. suddenly wanted to be supportive and help. wanted to introduce me to all the trans people they knew.

but i’ve seen both sides. i’ve seen how that entire concept was carefully avoided until i was part of it.

please, don’t be like that. talk about these things. especially around children, but also around your peers. even the openly queer or gay ones. not all of us have had that opportunity to learn these things. i went through school in the southern us with an abstinence only sex ed class. my “talk” with my folks was my granddad one day saying unprompted that condoms are important and i should carry them “just in case”. even interacting online, it took years before i found circles that talked about these things.

tl;dr please talk about queer subjects. not everyone knows what a therian is, or what trans is, they might not even know about being bi or poly, all of those words need to be learned. and avoiding them unless someone already is openly such, only causes more harm.

[edoro]

thinking about Emmy and Laurence and the fact that she’s the first trans person he’s ever met outside of his family

(under a cut bc it’s long)

and like especially when they first meet and she’s early in her transition she’s pretty visibly trans, and she’s open about it, involved in a lot of trans groups and activities on campus and all of that

and that’s just not something Laurence has any frame of reference for, because his dad transitioned in adulthood and went stealth and raised him to believe that was the only way to do it - that being trans was something he had to hide, for the sake of decency and also his own safety, that the only way to be a man was to just ‘pretend’ to be a ‘normal’ man and hope nobody found out he wasn’t

and when she first meets him, she does have her suspicions - she knows it’s rude to try to clock people like that but, well, he’s extremely short and always wearing layers and sure does have a Nice Ass and he’s definitely got the Trans Guy Voice - all features that a cis man could also easily have, but it makes her wonder

so she tries to just conspicuously drop mentions of various trans groups she attends and events they hold and things like that into conversation to see if he says anything about it or seems interested, and he always just awkwardly and tersely changes the subject and seems to get kind of tense, which initially makes her wonder if he’s like, A Transphobe

(and i mean, kind of, yes, he’s been raised with some really deeply toxic beliefs about transness and queerness and gender and sexuality in general)

meanwhile in his head he’s just grappling with the idea of being like... publicly, visibly trans, and not even ashamed of it, but instead embracing it as an identity rather than an unfortunate mistake of nature, enjoying one’s transness and finding community with other trans people... even the idea of there BEING a community of trans people, a set of shared experiences and perspectives and history

it’s strange and uncomfortable but also very intriguing. he wants to know more. he wants to know other trans people and go to those groups. he’s fascinated with the idea of not putting all of the energy he does into hiding it and being ashamed of it

(and Emmy, for her own safety, does put a lot of time and energy into being a more ‘palatable’ type of trans woman, one who seems to be ‘making an effort’, while at the same time struggling to find her own sense of identity and who she wants to be rather than who the people around her want her to be or are comfortable with her being - struggling to balance the reality of the social systems she lives within against her own self-actualization and autonomy, figuring out what she is and isn’t willing to compromise on, when and where safety is more important than self-expression and when it’s not, and trying so hard not to be ashamed of the aspects of herself that society hates so much)

he’s thinking about it a lot. he’s realized that there is a community he could be part of that he hasn’t been allowed to be, that there are other ways of experiencing transness than what his father has sold him, and he wants to explore those... but, Well,,,

he doesn’t end up telling her he’s trans until after his dad dies, when he realizes that he has no earthly clue how to keep on getting his own hormones, and comes to Emmy to be like, “hey, you’re a transsexual, right, you’re on the hormones, how... where do you get those??”

she briefly thinks he’s maybe coming out to her as a girl? and then they get it straightened out and she hooks him up with the local Planned Parenthood and all is well, and also makes plans to invite some of her more chill queer friends over to introduce the twins to, like slowly letting a rehabilitated orphan animal meet members of its own species so it can learn natural behaviors and be released into the wild

[everythingismadeofchaos]

It's funny, I had this conversation with someone a couple of months ago about how the term "trans" represents a kind of linguistic confusion because transitioning refers to changing from one thing into another and really the person has always been what they are. Neither one of us are linguists or anything, we just like language. Also neither one of us is trans, although I'm a high masking autistic (which makes me feel a solidarity with trans people, although I don't know that it's deserved, or that they feel similarly; but it's a similar feeling of not being who you actually are almost all the time, and this is exhausting) and he is a gay man who has been out his entire life and is now old like me.

The conclusion we reached trying to reconcile these two apparently different ideas is that the idea of transition could refer to the outward appearance, the appearance trans people present. That seems pretty obvious. But also we came up with an alternative idea, that is, the way the person experiences the world transitions from their (I don't know the terminology) status before they transition to afterwards. Being honest about who you are changes how you experience other people. A close third, though, was that a lot of people don't realize what they are, deep down, until late in life, either because of denial or some sort of physiological change or whatever it is that happens; so they are transitioning to a sort of more thorough understanding of themselves. I know one or two gay adults who came out as adults, one or two who have been out since they became aware of sexuality in any form, and I guess one person who was a lesbian in high school and went on to marry a man and have more children than anyone else I know. I guess she'd be in her late forties by now and is probably a grandmother based on culture. (I'm guessing there's probably a specific term for this kind of person, just as there is for U-Haul lesbians.) Unfortunately the only trans people I know are on here. I don't meet a lot of people though.

We were trying to think of analogies and metaphors and came up with ideas like becoming artistic later in life after specializing in STEM subjects. I can remember two specific examples we came up with: Richard Feynman learned how to draw and became quite interested in graphic arts as an older man, and also the author of the Bobiverse books, Dennis E. Taylor, who was a software engineer all his life and then quit to write sci-fi. I'm sure there are other examples. But the point is not that these are at all the same as being a trans human being, they're just analogies or metaphors. We're trying to understand better ourselves and help other people understand better if we can. Me and my friend are both strong humanists and weak atheists (and Star Trek fans LOL; the kind who are a little embarrassed by it) and we discuss a lot of current events within that framework.

I really don't know that much about it though so I'm just throwing this out there. Maybe this will help somebody. I definitely don't want to hurt anybody's feelings though so if anybody's offended by this I'll take it down unless you're a trump supporter or something, in which case, buddy, what are you doing with your life? Get it together

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Nia just needed a friend to do a hard mall trip. Trying out dresses. For a formal dance. And hey, maybe Lena and Kara are mad at each other but... She just needs Lena okay?

When Lena receives a call from an unknown number, she almost ignores it. But just enough people spread her phone number that she answers it on the off chance it might be someone who needs her.

“Lena Luthor, how can I help you?”

“Lena, please don’t hang up.”

The voice is familiar, but Lena can’t place it until the voice continues.

“It’s Nia. Nia Nal? And I know--” Lena almost hangs up right then-- not because it’s Nia, but because Nia treads dangerously close to a subject Lena is dead set on avoiding. Almost. “I know you have no reason to take my call, but… I need your help.”

Lena almost hangs up. She doesn’t.

“What do you need?”

---

The crisis, Lena learns, is that Nia has been given the assignment of her life covering the Golden Globes ceremony being hosted in downtown National City, but has nothing even remotely appropriate to wear. The mundanity of it all is so far from what Lena expects that it’s long moments before the words fully register.

“Uh, Lena…?”

“I’m here,” Lena says quickly, clearing her throat. She leans forward in her chair, rattling off an address. “Meet me there tomorrow at 11am.”

The next day, a few minutes after eleven, Nia walks up to Lena outside of Sylvie with hesitation all over her face. “Lena?”

Lena tucks her phone away and turns towards Nia with a professional but bright grin. “Nia, you made it.”

“Uhm, yeah actually… I kinda thought I’d gotten lost…”

Lena looks at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Lena, I can’t afford anything on this boulevard, are you crazy??”

Oh.

“You’re not paying,” Lena says simply.

Wide eyes blink at her in shock. “What? No! No, Lena, I can’t ask you to do that--”

“I’m offering.”

“Look, I was thinking we could just go to the mall--”

“The mall.”

Nia quails under Lena’s judgement, and Lena softens.

“Nia, you are about to be on the red carpet, covering an event that could catapult your career into the stratosphere. I think that warrants something a little more than what a department store can offer.”

“But…” Nia continues to protest, but uncertainty colors her features, and Lena knows she’s slipped under her guard. Carefully, Lena places a hand on Nia’s wrist.

“I won’t force you to accept what I’m offering,” she says gently. “But calling a Luthor for help means calling for a Luthor solution-- and nothing says Luthor more than shopping at the best boutique in town.”

Nia nods, but she ducks her chin with a swallow. “It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t want you to think that’s why I called, you know?” Nia expels a sigh, working a harried hand through her hair. “It’s just that Kara was supposed to come with me for moral support, but she’s had to cancel four times and the ceremony is in three days and if Andrea hears one more time that I don’t have a dress, she’s going to kill me…”

“Nia,” Lena says softly. Nia stops, and meets Lena’s gaze with a hesitant one of her own. “I would never think you were calling for a hand out. I’m offering.” Nia still looks uncertain, but Lena holds her gaze. “You asked for help… so let me help.”

Nia considers her words, studying Lena carefully. Finally, she wraps her arms around herself with a steadying sigh. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure.”

Nia follows a few paces behind as Lena turns and approaches the door to the shop, lingering to let Lena be the one to press the buzzer to be allowed in. But as they near, the door opens for them, ready and waiting to admit them.

Luthors don’t use buzzers.

“Welcome to Sylvie.” A pair of well groomed attendants relieve them of their purses, exchanging their bags for a couple flutes of champagne offered by a third.

“Thank you,” Lena replies easily, well versed in the practice. Nia fumbles a step behind, her movements stiff and uncertain. Instead of moving directly into the belly of the store as she usually did, Lena lingers, allowing Nia the chance to take in the shop for the first time. The showroom looks much like any other, as could be glimpsed through the windows, styled with clean lines and immaculately dressed mannequins. The true Sylvie experience, however, happens further in, beyond the curtains that separate the dressing rooms from the rest of the store.

“If you’ll follow me, ladies, I’ll show you to your dressing room.”

Lena wonders what Nia expected as they approached one of the curtained off areas. Perhaps a cramped alcove like the hollywood thrift stores shown in coming-of-age films, where your elbows knocked the walls as you changed and you’d be lucky to find a stool to put your own clothes. Certainly it isn’t the plush, spacious room that awaits them, if Nia’s wide eyes are anything to go by.

Charnelle waits for them at the curtain. “Welcome, ladies,” she greets, parting the curtain so that Lena and Nia can slip inside. “Lena, lovely to see you again.”

“And you,” Lena returns.

“I’m Charnelle,” she introduces herself to Nia. “Wonderful to meet you. I’ll be assisting the two of you today.”

“Thankyousomuch,” Nia says in a rush, her shoulders tight as she shakes Charnelle’s offered hand.

Charnelle allows the curtains to close behind them, isolating them in their own little pocket of divine luxury. Lena settles herself on the central chaise lounge, folding her legs elegantly before her. Nia perches on the edge beside her, her gaze flicking to the small boudoir in one corner and another curtain that shields the actual changing area. Inside there, Lena knows Nia will find a plush bench to sit on as she undresses, and gold hangers to hold her clothes while she tries on various gowns. It’s designed to be beyond comfortable, a place where one could spend hours-- and lots and lots of money.

“So, what do you have for us today, Lena? Another benefit gala to dazzle?”

“Actually,” Lena replies, “Miss Nal here is covering the Golden Globes this week for CatCo Worldwide.”

“How exciting!” Charnelle rounds on Nia. “And what are you looking for in your gown?”

Caught with a mouthful of champagne, Nia freezes, then swallows audibly. “Um…” she coughs out. “Something nice? I probably shouldn’t be outdressing the stars or anything, so nothing too crazy?” She shrugs. “I don’t know, exactly.”

“Charnelle,” Lena intercedes, “could you bring us some formal options in black, maroon, or blue? Floor length, of course.”

Charnelle nods, beaming. “Absolutely.” She gives Nia a wink. “She has your colors nailed, honey. What are your measurements?”

Nia stares at them both. “Uh. A six, usually?”

“They’ll need your measurements to ensure a proper fit,” Lena delivers gently. “Do you mind if Charnelle--?”

“I’m trans!” Nia blurts, her chinks coloring a solid ear-to-ear pink. “Sorry,” she adds quietly. “But-- yeah. Just so you know.”

Lena stares, surprised more by the outburst than its content, but Charnelle takes it in stride. “So am I, baby girl,” she responds smoothly. “That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to have a dress that fits.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Nia finally, finally relaxes. She offers a shaky grin. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s do this.”

Charnelle gives Nia’s wrist a squeeze on her way to the boudoir to pull a tape measure from the top drawer. While she’s busy, Lena catches Nia’s eye and lifts her glass in a silent cheers of support. Nia rewards her with a small smile, before Charnelle returns and makes quick work of measuring Nia’s bust, waist and hips.

“All right!” Charnelle chirps, wrapping up her tape. “I’ll be right back with some options. You two stay here and get comfortable, all right? I’ll be right back.”

She disappears, and Nia all but collapses onto the chaise next to Lena. “I can’t believe I did that,” she groans.

Lena pats her on the knee. “You’re all right. Sylvie only gets my business because they know the value of discretion.”

“Yeah.” Nia lifts her head with a hum, surveying the dressing room once more. “This is nice. Thank you for talking me into it.”

Lena smirks. “Just wait.”

As if on cue, the curtains part to admit not Charnelle, but the woman who’d offered them their drinks. This time, her tray holds an array of small finger sandwiches. “Refreshments?”

“Oh, wow!” Nia exclaims, quickly helping herself to three. “Okay, yeah. I could get used to this.”

Lena grins, snaring a cucumber sandwich for herself. “Thank you. And another round, if you could,” she adds, seeing Nia’s empty glass.

The woman nods. “Of course.”

When she has disappeared again, the dressing room fills with quiet, and Lena realizes that she doesn’t have a clue what to say. She’s gone shopping with her mother, and with Andrea, and in both cases the conversation flowed easily, for better or for worse. But she’s never been shopping with a girl several years her junior, and never one in the middle of Lena’s biggest heartbreak.

“It happened the last time I went shopping for a dress too,” Nia says, breaking the silence. “The anxiety about… you know. I guess something about formal wear brings out the worst of it.”

Unsure of how to respond, Lena looks at her. “When was the last time?”

Nia sighs. “Prom. I’d transitioned by then, and most people were used to me, but I didn’t have a date, and part of me just internalized it as a fixture of me not being girly enough, and not, you know, the fact I didn’t know how to talk to boys, let alone date them. I didn’t even know if it was worth it to go at all, and I just-- started crying, right there in the dress shop.”

“What happened then?” Lena asks gently.

Nia smiles fondly. “My mom. She just hugged me, and told me how proud she was to have such a beautiful, confident daughter. It was sort of embarrassing at the time, but… it was something I needed to hear, you know?”

She pauses then as the server returns with their champagne. Afte the woman dips out again, Lena nudges her. “And did you ever find a dress?”

Nia snorts, nodding. “Yeah. Like, two minutes after I calmed down I found my dream dress. And my friends and I had a blast at prom, so I’m glad I went after all.”

“Good,” Lena murmurs, sipping her drink. “Well, I can’t promise anything about a dream dress, but I’ll call it a win if we get out of here without any tears.”

“Cheers to that,” Nia concurs, lifting her own glass for a deep sip.

In that moment, Charnelle returns, wheeling a short cart of long dresses along with her.

“All right, ladies-- who’s ready to see some gowns?”

---

Nia settles on a bias-cut gown of sky blue, accented with beaded embroidery at the bust and straps. It may not have qualified for dream status, but it’s perfect for the Globes, and Lena can tell Nia is excited by the time they step back out onto the street, garment bag draped over her arm.

“Thank you, again,” Nia offers, hiking her purse higher on her shoulder. “You really didn’t have to do all this, especially with how weird things are right now. I know it probably wasn’t easy to say yes when I called last night.”

Lena blinks. It honestly hadn’t occurred to her to say no. “Nia?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you call me?” It’s her turn now to shift uncomfortably on her feet. “I’m always happy to help, but… as you say, things are weird. Why me?”

“Honestly?” Nia asks. Lena nods. “You remind me of my mom. I can’t begin to tell you how or why, but you do. And the thing is… my mom was probably the kindest person I’ve ever known. So-- if you reminded me of her, I figured you were a pretty safe bet. And the worst you could do was hang up on me, so…”

Right.

Lena nods, her throat locking painfully around a sudden lump in her throat. Forcing a smile, she clears her throat. “Okay. Well… I’m glad I was able to help. Are you okay to get home?”

Nia nods easily. “Yeah, I’ll just catch the bus. Thank you again. This was really nice, and it was really good to see you.”

Lena nods, but before she can turn away, Nia catches her by the wrist.

“I mean it, Lena. I owe you one. If you ever need anything…”

Lena turns her wrist, allowing her hand to settle into Nia’s palm. Giving it a squeeze, Lena offers her a smile.

“I know who to call.”

// prompts are closed

[seawing-vibes]

Obligatory Winter Post ✨

I may not be the biggest fan of Winter but I still adore this cold ex-prince lad, he just has so much more potential and I wanna see some more of him talking to Daffodil, but besides that one of my favorite HC’s about him is him being a Trans Man !! (close second being ADHD winter) So I decided to write some trans-winter headcanons wail tossing in some of my own “after the plot” story stuff, so if your interested in those they‘ll be under the cut !!

TW - Mentions of Transphobia

Winter is a Bisextual F-M Trans guy !!

Winter knew at a young age he was trans, and had decided to come out during a family dinner party (Queen Glacier was there to witness it)

Hailstorm, Icicle, and Queen Glacier were all very accepting and supportive, they offered to help him with anything and were always there to help him sort out his parents reactions to the situation. And surprise surprise, Tundra and Narwal weren’t happy about it

His parents saw his transition as a lost opportunity for them to get closer to the throne and shunned him for it, they still used he/him pronouns when addressing Winter but would do it in a disgusted or rude way. Winter often believed that they only used the proper pronouns because Queen Glacier and Hailstorm forced them to

Queen Glacier and Winter ended up bonding over his coming out, due to the fact Glacier is a Lesbian she fully accepted her Trans Nephew and was happy to have another LGBT+ member in the family

Snowfall was angered over the fact that her mother began to pay attention to her Nephew more than her own daughter, creating a burning jealously for her cousin

Winter went to Jade Mountain mainly because he wanted to get away from his parents and the turmoil of loosing Hailstorm, and Glacier thought it would be a good opportunity for him to meet other students that may share the same strife

Most of the time Winter was scared he would be outed some how, but was lucky enough that a lot of, quite major, things happened to prevent much focus on his gender

Arc 2 Cannon events happen normally , Winter doesn’t come out yet

After the cannon events happen Qibli helps Winter build sanctuary, there they have a lot of heart to hearts and eventually Winter comes out to Qibli, of course Qibli is very accepting and has been on the hunt for a pride flag for Winter for years :>

Qibli and Moon date for a bit, but eventually they end their relationship, realizing their better as friends. Winter has lost feelings for Moon so they all just kinda stay as good bro’s for a bit (in this time they also tell Winter about Peacemaker because they trust him and are good friends. come one I hate that they were all secretive about where Darkstalker went to Winter in canon, like ,, of all dragons you should tell your Icewing friend where the dude that manipulated and mind controlled him went)

Winter grieved heavily for Glacier when news hit that she passed, his cousin Crystal was the on to give him the news, Qibli was there to comfort him the most through that time

When the news of Pantala hit Winter was the loudest to protest Qibli & Moon from going, he was worried he would feel isolated once again - In this time Turtle, another Trans Man, and Winter end up bonding, Turtle telling Winter all he learned about Pantala and trying to quell his nerves

Whatever Canon events are going to happen will happen normally

Once Moon & Qibli come back Winter and Qibli are all over eachother, the Jade Winglet spends quality time together because they deserve that

Eventually Winter and Qibli decide to start dating, it was a gradual process and it was Kinkajou who encouraged them to start calling eachother by the partner title :) And Kinkajou is with Moon at this point as well ;>>

Qibli often drags Winter to the Sand kingdom, during these visits Qibli usually finds Winter spending time with Ex-Princess Blaze, talking about Queen Glacier and how kind she was to the two of them. Blaze seems to be almost like a motherly figure to the angsty Ex-Prince. Well as motherly as someone like Blaze can be

[will-they-wont-they-detransition]

My History (he/him to she/her)

My transgender experience and my time tumblr, not all that surprisingly, overlap slightly. At the age of 14 I made my first foray into tumblr and met a number of people and accounts who were hugely formative to my early years on the internet. Outside of tumblr I had a mostly average young-teenage social life, perhaps on the shyer and reserved side but not altogether abnormal.

Keeping in this bubble of normalcy was the school where I went and the town where I lived. It was small and semi-rural, and far out of “big cities.” Because of this, my first real contact and understanding of transgender identities came from the internet, tumblr specifically. Now, for those that swear by the “social contagion” of transness, I know how this must appear, but in retrospect I would not really pin tumblr and it’s communities as an “infection vector.”

Rather, it was the Wachowskis.

Love them or hate them (and, golly, has there been a lot of digital ink spilled on that), no one can deny that to the average 14 year old boy, The Matrix is pretty cool. So combine these inspirational directors with a cool cyberpunk movie, some relatively tamed sexuality, and such intrigues as the character Switch (for those that don’t know, Switch was originally intended as a trans character, “switching” genders when entering and leaving the Matrix) and the very concept of trans people was not something I would accidentally forget the name of.

Of course, there was a whole litany of events and peoples and foundational experiences I could get into, each one contributing to the coming landslide, but I won’t digress about it here. Suffice it to say that I came out as bisexual at 15 and (to a select few) transgender at 16, though I had as yet no notions of transitioning either hormonally or socially.

I was the only trans kid there. At least, as far as I know, and blending into the crowd (no matter the personal discomfort) seemed the path of least resistance for a shy, awkward boy-girl. 

I played around with names and makeup and skirts for a while. The first few times made my heart pound hard and my throat to go dry. It was a mixture of excitement and dread of the wrong person walking in at the wrong time. My friend group, by and large, were supportive though they themselves only ranged from “LGBT Ally” and “maybe bi-curious.” Life was mostly good, though I was quick to notice that clothes and faceful of makeup did little to alter my gangly arms, my nervous twitches, the leg hair that stood out very dark against my pale skin.

When I had first applied the concept of being transgender to myself I saw it as more, well, magical. That I would see my awkward puberty (already be a few years late in coming) be stripped away and that I would simply transfigure into a perfect female form. Of course I knew, rationally, that was not how the process worked but in my daydreams and short stories it was always as simple as that.

As I have learned these last five years, living openly as a trans girl, it was much more difficult. That is not to say I was tricked into it! I was always cognizant of the fact that my dreams were one thing and that to be an out and proud trans woman was very different. What I did think (and this is the concept that I am having second guesses on), was that it was better than testosterone-fueled puberty.

Looking back, I’d say that I am beyond a doubt happy with the life I lived and that living as transgender has given me a perspective on gender and sexuality that I could not have gotten anywhere else. Yet here we are five years later, I’m approaching my mid-20s and it’s probably about time I start HRT, right?

Well, I’m still terrified by the aging effects of testosterone: wrinkles, body hair, male pattern baldness, etc, I came upon a surprise that I think even you Detransitioners and Gender Criticals would be interested to hear: I’ve found that, for this moment, I am happy with my body.

Now -- I still dress feminine, I throw on makeup whenever my face is splotchy, I keep my hair long because it frames my (admittedly) long face rather well. And, as said before, I think I would rather lose this right arm of mine than get a receding hairline.

When I look at myself in the mirror, however, what I see is (pardon the language) a cute, effeminate twink -- and I’m happy with what I see (for now, not all of us are forever young, right?). Now, looking at myself in the mirror and telling myself I am looking at a girl I see a number of flaws: forehead, shoulders, chest, etc., the usual dysphoric candidates, but last night something amazing happened:

I looked at my reflection and asked myself: what if this was the image of a guy I’m trying to date? Someone who actually doesn’t mind showing off their broad shoulders and flat chest? It sounds droll but it’s true, I fell in love with myself. Well, maybe not in the Narcissus way, but I found myself loving the fact that I looked like a kind of boy!

So that leads me to today. Ever since the revelation I find that my brain seems to be changing beyond my control. Womanhood? Femininity? Whatever you want to call it, just didn’t seem as important anymore -- it seemed to be leaking out of me bit by bit. All that remains is this sense of masculinity, not the traditional kind, but something male, something boy-ish even, and basking in it gave me more euphoria than ever before.

Going forward, I want to engage with detrans literature, I want to hear the stories of detransistioners and transgender people and everyone in between. I know somewhere out there, my experience can be related to and I hope to find the answer soon -- should I detransition or not?

[themollyjay]

Dune, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Trash Fire

So, this blog has mostly been focused on writing, and that will probably continue, but there is a topic I want to address.  We’re coming up on the release of the third live action adaptation of Dune.  I’m writing this on September 10th, 2021, and Dune is scheduled to release on October 22nd, 2021.  Now, I will tell you up front, I am ridiculously excited for this movie, because I have read Dune multiple times, and I honestly love the story.

The thing is, for a long time, I struggled with that.  Not for the reason you might expect.  A lot of people decry Dune as a Mighty Whitey/White Savior story which, if you’ve only watched the David Lynch version, is a valid criticism.  The thing is, if you’ve read the books, you know that Dune is actually a deconstruction of those tropes, and an open criticism of the human tendency to fall in line behind charismatic leaders.  What always bugged me about Dune, and indeed a lot of classic science fiction (I’m looking at you, Lensman), is the sexism and gender essentialism that are often baked into the setting.

For those of you who don’t know, at the center of Dune is the Bene Gesserit Sisterhood and concept of the Kwisatz Haderach.  In the Dune series, the Bene Gesserit is an organization of women who have had special education which allows them full control over their bodies and a number of special abilities. Two important abilities for the Bene Gesserit are the ability to see into ancestral memory, and the ability to see into the future.  The thing is, the Bene Gesserit can’t see into male memories, and their ability to see the future is limited, so they have spent thousands of years on a breeding program to produce the Kwisatz Haderach, which is a man who can survive the process the Bene Gesserit undergo in order to gain these two abilities.  A process which normally kills men.  This is considered desirable because a male would be able to look at both the female and male pasts and see into the future with far greater ability than any female ever could.

Sexism.  Gender Essentialism.  Right there, wrapped up in one of the central premises of the story. There’s something similar in the Lensman stories, where women just don’t have the killer instinct necessary to become Lensman, although eventually there are female Lensmen, this is framed as the end result of a long breeding program necessary to create those traits in a woman, and the women who can wield the Lens are depicted as more evolved than regular women.  For the record, I also love Lensman and I had the same struggle to come to terms with it that I did with Dune.

But how is it that I can sit here and love stories where some the central premises of the story run counter to my lived experience as a trans woman?  That’s a good question, without an easy answer.  The short version is, “Not uncritically.”  The long version is, well, long.

Something that a lot of people don’t understand is that when you engage with any piece of media, you’re not engaging with that piece of media in a vacuum.  Media exists in context, and in a very real way, media exists as part of a dialog.  People will write stories, and other people will write stories in response.  Events happen in the real world, and people will write stories in response.  People will bring their own culture, their own societal preconceptions, and their own personal beliefs into their writing.

This is a lesson I learned largely by looking at the way my writing changed as I progressed long my journey toward coming out and going through transition.  As I went through that process, my view of the world changed, and the things that went into my writing, the things I wanted to put into my writing, changed with it.  That realization and understanding allowed me to go back and look at works like Dune, Lensman, Star Wars, Star Trek, and a whole host of other things, and see them not just as a product of their times, but as a product of the people who created them, and all of the things those creators brought to the table.

To be clear, I’m not saying that when something was created should insulate it from criticism.  Far from it.  What I am saying is that media isn’t some timeless thing that can be judged against absolute standards of right and wrong that exist outside of the context of the society in which it was created and the society in which it was later consumed. We have to view media in the context of when it was created, while critiquing what it says in the context of the society in which it is consumed. We have to look at works like Dune and ask, ‘What was the author trying to say in the language and context of 1965 when the work was created’, and then ask, ‘How does what the author was saying apply to us, now in 2021?’.  Are the things the author/creator said valid?  Are they worth applying to the modern world?

But more importantly, what I’m saying is that in order for any art to have lasting value, that it must be okay to find joy and value in things that are imperfect by today’s standards, because I promise you the things we create today and the art we leave behind us, will be found similarly wanting by tomorrow’s standards.  All we can do is try to create with compassion, understanding, and acceptance, and hope that history judges us on the good we tried to do, rather than by failings we don’t have the language, mindset or understanding to avoid.

So, with that in mind, come October 22nd, I will sit in front of my laptop, with a huge bowl of microwave popcorn, and I will watch as an amazing cast and an incredible director give new life to a story that I have loved for decades.  I’ll roll my eyes at the sexism and gender essentialism baked into the story and the setting, while I watch to see if this version has captured the warnings that Frank Herbert wove into the original story.  Based on what I’ve seen so far, I suspect I’ll love pretty much every minute of it, even if it’s still a Trash Fire.

[bonemarroww]

Something Else - Trans!(O) Amajiki Tamaki x (A) F!Reader

Summary: “You’ll get there someday!” Mirio always says. “You’ll do bette next time.” Tamaki doesn’t want to get there someday. And if every Alpha always does, well, maybe he’s something else then.

Warnings: None.

Feedback is welcome!

(I do not own the picture)

AO3

Prologue | Chap 1 | Chap 2 | Chap 3 | Chap 4 | Chap 5

————————— Epilogue

“Cheers!”  

The loud sound of glass clinking against glass made Tamaki flinch, but to see Mirio and Nejire’s bright expressions, and his mate’s proud look, it was worth the slight discomfort.  

Tonight was his leaving do from Fat gum’s agency. After four years of loyal service, he was finally creating his own agency with Mirio and Nejire. The thought was as exciting as it was frightening. He had gotten used to working with the Pro Hero, as the specifics of their quirks made them a nice pair. Still, the thought of working with his best friends was appealing, and when a few months ago, Mirio had brought up their childhood dream of becoming Pro Heroes working together... He had accepted.  

Nejire had joined in their project with her usual enthusiasm, as her contract with the agency she worked at was coming to an end anyway. Tamaki knew his mate would have joined too, but she couldn’t for the time being, her work with Gang Orca slowly but surely coming to fruition . In a year or two, maybe .  

The Omega had been a bit disappointed to hear that, but after a few days of sulking and a calm discussion, he had come around it. It was hard sometimes working with people you loved, and as long as she came back to him every night, he would be happy.  

Tonight’s gathering was also the occasion to celebrate with his friends the three-year landmark since the beginning of his transition. By now, he no longer felt any of the after-effects that had plagued him for a year and a half after the treatment. His scent was now clear as that of any Omega, sweet enough for his mate to get drunk on it. Hearing people refer to him as an Alpha in the present tense had gotten rarer and rarer; and now that he was bonded to his ever-loving mate, and had a job he liked with his best friends as colleagues, it seemed nothing could get more perfect.  

Being able to be true to himself had been a real awakening for Tamaki, who had gone a long way since his high school days in matters of self-esteem. While he was not the most assertive hero, and he still got shy around people he did not know, Tamaki was a whole lot more confident now than he had been as an Alpha. Confident in himself, in his abilities. Every time he looked at his mate, as she was engaging in a lively conversation with one of Fatgum’s Beta sidekicks, he saw the flash of purple, gold and white around her neck, and he was reminded of it.  

As he had been injured and on medical leave for a while about a year ago, he had reluctantly tried crocheting again, hoping to kill some time until his Alpha could come home to him. Much to his surprise, now that he was free of the pressure and expectancy of him to craft a courting gift, he had found the activity much more enjoyable. After a few tries, he had been able to gift his Alpha a present he was actually proud of; a new scarf in his colors, that he had scented at her request –to motivate her to come back earlier, she had joked, but he knew it was because of how much his Omega’s scent calmed her whenever her Alpha went in a frenzy.  

He had complied, secretly happy to have her wear his scent. Though much of her Alpha’s overzealousness was now channeled towards him, she was still known to show a lot of care towards any Omega she might find, fussing particularly over the civilians she was rescuing. Tamaki knew it to be her nature, and he loved her for it, but sometimes, he was a bit afraid these Omegas would get ideas and get attached to his mate. She was aware of his sentiments on the matter, of course, and often asked him to thoroughly scent her before she left for work, if only to bring peace to his mind.  

“Excuse me, Suneater?”  

Tamaki startled, looking away from his mate and to a girl wearing UA’s uniform. She looked young enough, probably in second year. Tamaki didn’t seek to breathe in her scent, a habit he found distasteful as he knew full well one’s identity was not dictated by their scent, but as he took an inspiration to calm his anxiety, it was the absence of any particular smell that made him tick. She was using scent blockers.  

“Y-yes?”  

In the background, Tamaki heard his mate end her conversation with the sidekick, and he felt her move closer to him. It comforted him slightly, as the bubbly student introduced herself.  

“I am sorry to bother you, but I have something pretty important to ask you.” She didn’t beat around the bush, displaying an engaging grin. “I’m a second-year in UA, and I am j ust like you .”  

In the way she emphasized the words, and coupled with the eerie lack scent emanating from her, the Pro Hero immediately understood what she meant.  

While the shy boy didn’t go out of his way to let it know that he hadn’t always been an Omega, he hadn’t done anything to hide it either, and with some researches online, any fan could come across this information. Fans ; he had not always expected to have them. He didn’t shine by his personality like Lemillion , or by his feats like All Might. Still, he had been proven wrong when Fatgum’s agency had started receiving fan mail about him as well; a lot of praise, of thanks, some gifts –some of them profoundly inappropriate.    

He had received some heartfelt letters, about how knowing he was one of ‘them’ had inspired a few into transitioning as well; or about how they dealt with their assigned second gender, not wanting the treatment. All of them moved to learn there was a Hero somewhat like them in the noticeable rankings.  

“I am hosting an awareness event at the school in two weeks. You have been a huge inspiration to me, you’re a Pro Hero a lot of us can relate to, and seeing you being well on your way to the top makes me feel like maybe I have a chance too.”  

Tamaki looked down in embarrassment, flattered yet nervous. One thing caught his attention, though, below the student’s neck. There, hooked to the strap of her bag, a vibrantly colored pin with the symbols of the Alpha, the Beta and the Omega artistically intertwined.  

“I want to make it so that students like us in the Hero course, and all other classes, know they are not alone and that they are not freaks. I want all the others to listen too. We can’t have allies if they’re not even aware we exist!” She chuckled, Tamaki’s silence seemingly making her a bit unsure.  

He felt his Alpha link her fingers with his, and caught her look of fond encouragement. She squeezed his hand, looking pointedly over to the teen and then at him again.  

The shy young man cleared his throat, shaking slightly his head to try to stop his anxiety from taking over.  

“It-it’s a great project.” He finally answered, his free hand fiddling with the fabric of his cape. “I hope many will come to listen. D-did principal Nezu give you access to the main lecture theater?”  

The student smiled; her cheeks ever so tinted from joy to hear her idol approved of her initiative.  

“He did. I hope it will be filled with fellow students. I have invited several Pro Heroes, whom I found to be overtly trans, to come share their story and point of view. So, I guess a number of students will come, if only out of curiosity.”  

Tamaki nodded; it did not really matter the motivations that brought the students at this conference, so long as they stayed to hear the point of the meeting.  

The student seemed to hesitate a bit, as if suddenly overcome with some shyness.  

“It would mean a lot to me if you could come and share your experience too.”  

She must have felt how much he tensed at the prospect, for she immediately looked to regret the anxiousness she had projected upon him.  

“Your mate could come too, as an ally, of course!” She assured him, which only seemed to relax him a tiny bit.  

Tamaki’s hand was so tight against his mate’s, he was surprised the Alpha didn’t pull from him. Instead, she let out a low purr, her other hand coming to rub his arm in slow movements of comfort. The Pro Hero closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply, focusing on the agreeable sensation of her purrs vibrating through him.  

When he opened his eyelids again, he exhaled and smiled hesitantly, gathering all of his courage.  

“I’ll come.” He affirmed, not as loudly as he would have liked, but he had put the words out there and that was the only thing that mattered.  

He knew he would not regret his decision until the moment he would have to speak in front of these students; but the knowledge that his past self would have most probably missed this opportunity out of shyness cemented his decision. He was sincerely interested in this event, felt honored and timidly pleased to have been invited. He would be afraid, but he would not regret.  

The student’s face broke into a relieved grin.  

“Thank you so much!” She opened her bag and rummaged through it for a few seconds, before coming up with a pastel colored paper. “Here’s a flyer for you. I won’t bother you any more than that. I’ll see you then!”  

She bowed slightly to them, fully intent on leaving them to enjoy their night. Still, as she was closing her bag and turning away, Tamaki caught sight of something shiny in her bag, and yelped out a ‘wait!’.  

By now, his hand was crushing his mate’s, but he timidly looked up at the younger girl. When he spoke, his tried to keep nervous stutter at bay; in vain.  

“I-if you n-need an internship, o-or an agency to work with for Hero studies... F-feel free to c-contact me.” He felt his mate purr just a little louder in surprise, and in the way she squeezed his arm quickly, he knew he had her approbation. “Also...”  

His trembling free hand left the abused fabric of his costume to shakily point at the pin on her bag’s strap.  

“D-do you have more?” His cheeks set ablaze, and he immediately looked down, hoping his hair might hide his flaming cheeks.  

There was a moment of silence, before the Alpha chuckled and nosed his shoulder tenderly, breaking the student’s shock. The younger girl opened her bag again with colored cheeks as she bashfully explained she made them herself; eyeing carefully the Alpha to know if it was okay for her to give it to the Omega.  

When the young woman nodded with peaceful eyes, the student was extending one to Tamaki, visibly flattered.  

The Hero slowly released his mate’s hand, and gingerly took the little object in both his hands.  

“Thank you.” He whispered, still too embarrassed to properly face the creative student.  

After a few words of goodbye and promise of seeing each other at the awareness event in UA, to which Tamaki knew his mate wouldn’t mind going, he sighed in relief.  

Without a word, the Alpha led him to a quieter part of the hall, letting him rest from the social exhaustion.  

“I’m proud of you.” She whispered in his ear as she treaded her hands through his hair while she leaned to kiss his cheek softly.  

Tamaki purred contentedly, taking deep inhales of her scent. He was proud of himself, too.  

Her hands trailed down to his, and she seized the little pin. It was similar to that the girl wore, in different colors, less vibrant, more appeasing. It suited him.  

“Help me put it on?” He quietly asked.  

His Alpha’s nimble fingers hooked the pin to the fabric of his cape, just above his heart. The colors fit nicely with the rest of his hero costume; discreet but present.  

“There.”  

She leaned back; eyes squinted ever so slightly in admiration, a fond smile on her lips, and a tender purr in the air.  

“You’re perfect.”  

——————

That’s it folks ! The epilogue to Something Else. 

I hope you all liked it, if you did, feel free to leave a comment !

[autismisaokay]

As a fair warning this post is a time where I break my NSFW rule because it has to do about my body and health. So as a warning I will be talking about some heavy stuff.

I wasn’t sure when there was going to be a good time to really bring this up. A while back I brought up that I was doing research on trans man. Lately I’ve also been reblogging some trans support and resources. I just got a question asking if I was trans and the answer is, yes I’m a man. More specifically I’m a trans man.

Honestly this whole process has been just that a process and it’s no where near from being done. I’ve been terrified to bring this up for multiple reasons that I can’t even list all here. I was going to wait until I was on T before I started to really choose. However my insurance won’t pay for my HRT until I have a psych eval and I’ve been living as a man (again without T) for 12 months. An people have really started to pick it up irl and it was only a matter of time until people started to figure it out here.

This hasn’t been fun for me and I had to come out twice in the span of three days to my mother. Who says she will not respect my pronouns or my name until I’ve gotten them legally changed and gotten the psych eval. (The fact I also need to do a psych eval in the first place is really degrading to me) She also told me that since I never played with trucks as a kid or didn’t show signs to her that I can’t be trans. She would have accepted me if I had shown the signs early on and she knows trans people and I can’t be one. I tried telling her I was scared and I hid it. She also told me that my grandmother knows and my grandmother asks that I, “Please wait until she dies.” To transition or else this will be the thing that kills her and she doesn’t have long left anyway. My grandmother was my first best friend in the world and I thought would be until the day she died and the family member I was closest to. I’ve also been told by my mother that I’m being selfish and that the rest of my family wouldn’t accept this. Which I told her I understood.

My mom thinks I’m doing this for attention, I got caught up in one of my “phases”, and because it’s a “internet trend.” When I told her this is who I am she said that, “this is who I am” is the buzzword for the trans internet right now and to try again and give her another reason other than that. She also believes being trans is a trend right now. Which is another reason why I was scared to come out here. I know a lot of people are transitioning here and I was horrified of looking like I was doing this for attention or trying to take attention away.

She wants me to go to my endo appointment and an eval and she says she’ll only accept this unless they do because “she has to” at that point. She doesn’t want to do any of this and in order for me to get any respect I have to hold her hand. I understand she’s grieving a child but I feel like my whole family just died and she kinda confirmed they did, metaphorically.

This is my coming out letter I wrote that I got to read the second time I came out that I couldn’t read to her the first time. I think it will help explain what I’ve been going through.

“I’ve been receiving a variety of questions on my appearance and mental health from multiple people. “Why did you change things up?” Or, “What’s been going on with me?” Lately I have had a lot of time to consider seriously what I’ve wanted out of life as well as my identity as a whole. What could make and, in many ways, would make me the happiest. To put it bluntly, I figured out I’m a man. I ask that you please save all questions or comments until the end of what I have said, thank you.

There was this over looming anxiety I couldn’t quite put together throughout the process of figuring this out. There was this “entity” we will call it, I had always put to the side or hid for years. Because in the end I didn’t even really have a discernible answer for it. And if I could keep pushing this to the side, it must not be that big of a deal or even affect me that badly. I would always find, or was, in some sort of distraction to keep from digging any deeper into my identity then I was ready for.

When I discovered I’m autistic for the first time for a while it seemed to solve many of my questions, and I was able to put things to bed for a while. Until those self-reflective questions, feelings, and thoughts on who I am woke up in a panicked scream again a couple of years later. Yet I still tried metaphorically placing a pillow over its head to try and force it all “back to bed.” I repeated this cycle again and again, and each time events in my life would cause those questions and feelings to resurface. Becoming worse and worse each time, until I finally had to sit down and face this.

What are these questions though you are probably asking yourself at this point? They are as follows in no order that I’ve asked myself throughout my life, and yes some even in childhood. Why have I always been so self-conscious about my image? Why did my body feel so disgusting and wrong other than inability to love myself? Why did I feel like I had too much of some parts and too little of others? Why was I angry that my voice would not get any deeper? Why did I imagine myself wearing suits but was too scared to do and say so and pushed it aside? Why did the way I pee not feel right? Why when I drew myself as a boy growing up did it feel so good but so bad enough to hide it? Why did I secretly go on boy’s puberty sites as a teenager and feel like it was a game of connecting the dots when anything matched with the boys? Why were the dreams I had as a boy feel so natural?

It all came to one answer, I am a man.

To be honest, I didn’t understand any of this fully or was able to come to terms with this up until the end of March of this year. I had always been trying to do the best with what I was given, in fact I wanted to. Somethings that are perceived as “girly” by certain people I even enjoy which made things doubly confusing.  I thought I was just over blowing things and that for a while being autistic seemed to explain many things, but not everything. Or that I had penis envy, or I didn’t think highly enough of girls and that made me bad. More than anything I was afraid to come to these realizations in fear of what people would think or what would happen. Or that it would be dismissed away, which really scared me. To figure out something as immense as this and not be able to maybe finally be more comfortable and know myself better. That terrified me.

Due to the misunderstandings of trans individuals I feared I would be thought of as a pervert. I even came to think that I was one for being this way. I feared being thought of as incompetent to decide this for myself due to being autistic. A pulsating fiery raging scream stayed buried deep in the pit of my stomach from these thoughts.I started to experiment, to be more certain of coming to terms with this.

I did research and made things like a starter packer. Which are socks bunched together to make a bulge shape like a penis and testes to wear. This gave me enough euphoria to know I wanted more. So, I bought myself a packer (a silicone prosthetic) and something called a STP (Stand To Pee device).  Which gave me so much euphoria I cried the first time I used my STP because it felt so right. At that time, I was speaking with Julia (therapist) to help sort me through this journey since around late March early April. I went on to buy men’s pants and undergarments and cut off all my hair and bought a binder. (Safely compresses my breasts) In addition, I also chose my name and came out to some friends who accepted me and used my correct pronouns. With Julia’s aid she also advised me the biggest thing I could do right now is speak with the community. So, I did and since then I’ve found an online support group and a local support group that I’ve been going to meetings for. It’s helped me place myself and instead of feeling like I didn’t belong I felt like things made more sense in many regards.

I still have many other fears and adversities I will continue to face while living as my true self. One of the things that has really challenged me is that I feel like my words do not have any bearing anymore advocating for autistic people who identify as girls. Now that I’m coming out as a man. As much as I know I’m a man I feel like I’m a bad person for identifying this way since there’s so much stuff out there saying that men are toxic, trash, and unfeeling. And I’m trying to learn how to best be a good and responsible man in this world.

The real me has always been out there and I’d like to be able to live my life the way I was meant to. As a man and on my way to medically transitioning. I am saying all of this because I care, and I want to be able to finally get this out of my system and help elevate this confusion to the best of my ability.

My name is Ren Jason P***, I’m your son, big brother, grandson, friend, colleague, classmate, autistic advocate, and fellow human being. Please don’t turn away the little boy and man, who shouldn’t be dictated by a body he didn’t ask for. 

As Princess BubbleGum says:

“People get built different.”

“We don’t need to figure it out. We just need to respect it.” “

[scriptlgbt]

There are three trans characters in my story. One is a trans woman and the others are a non-binary man and a trans man. How should I ensure they have fair representation in my story? What transphobic tropes should I avoid? How should I appropriately reveal they are trans. And their gender identity isn’t focused on in the story. Rather the events they go through are.

There’s a lot of parts to this that have a lot of answers so I’m going to fragment this up a bit and link other answers that might help.

I’m going to assume you are cis, just judging by some of the wording here, but please forgive me if I’m wrong!

How should I ensure they have fair representation in my story? 

There are so many ways! But there is not any universal test of what is optimal. Your best chance is to hire sensitivity consultants to read over/advise on anything pertaining to these characters. When picking someone for that, keep in mind that not everyone who has a certain identity is necessarily knowledgeable about wider community issues. Personally I think your best bet for that is going through an organization that screens their sensitivity readers to make sure they can actually help you. (Eventually I’d like to be able to offer a list of sensitivity readers for you folks but that is some time out.)

What transphobic tropes should I avoid?

This list is not comprehensive. Also, for tropes that give one specific identity that isn’t trans, feel free to swap out the label because it still applies. We have also answered this plenty regarding tropes in general in the past, though I’ll be focusing specifically on harmful tropes here, and these are just a few samples!

Emery went beyond this in this post as well, which I highly recommend.

Bury Your Gays

misgendering (this includes phrasing like, “he became she”)

anything that makes it seem like transition is one kind of Before and After thing - most of us do not transition overnight and show up on magazine covers with full implants and everything

gender identity borne from trauma/some kind of experience or psychological quirk

using the DSM’s definitions of trans

incorporating unnecessary medical information/history into the story

I would also very specifically try and understand and learn about transmisogyny, because not all trans experiences are the same, and understanding transmisogyny is vital to understanding almost everything to do with transphobic oppression.

How should I appropriately reveal they are trans?

Here is our Coming Out: To The Reader tag!

And their gender identity isn’t focused on in the story. Rather the events they go through are.

This is actually not the huge problem that people seem to think it is. It’s okay to talk about gender in a story, it’s just a problem when all the representation of trans characters out there is 100% transition stories, or if those stories are written by someone who doesn’t actually understand what they are talking about and/or didn’t consult anyone who did. 

You have a plot beyond just having some trans characters, right? Then you shouldn’t have an issue. Just do research the best you can, and feel free to come back if you need help with any more specifics or if you aren’t sure of something, or you need help parsing out information you heard or read, or whatever else. 

You got this.

- mod nat

[kevv]

a goodbye letter- abandoning current social media

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

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

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

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

[kaptainandy]

My Complete In-depth TLOU 2 Thoughts:

Yeah I know, y’all have already read through countless reviews and thoughts, but I gotta get my thoughts out there. So, continue under the cut for some somewhat coherent, essay-ish style ramblings. There will be a TL;DR at the end because this is going to be long. (Spoilers ahead).

Okay so my overall perception of this game is that it’s average and I’m slightly disappointed. I’m going to start with the things I really liked and enjoyed before I get into what I didn’t like.

The visuals and gameplay were solid and enjoyable with small improvements upon the first game’s already fun and interesting, gameplay. The NPCs felt less like they were following a track in terms of their movements and felt more natural. The dialogue between enemies felt more varied than the first game, and the addition of giving everyone a name made me feel more immersed and the reaction from other characters to their fallen friends felt more believable. I feel that overall, the development of gameplay from the first to the second game felt “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it,” and I think it worked out because it’s one of the aspects I liked about the first game. The addition of craftable silencers, varied stealth takedowns, ability to go prone, tall grass to hide in, cars to hide under, larger infected (bloaters and shamblers) now being able to destroy weak walls, etc. were fun editions that helped the combat feel less repetitive. And lastly, the areas of combat that included both human enemies and infected, (and later WLF soldiers vs Seraphite soldiers)  was really cool and felt more realistic for the world of the Last of Us. It was something I think the first game lacked and it was really interesting to choose who to take down first and let the enemies fight each other.

The level design was also great. I felt it gave the player a lot of options of how they wanted to traverse the area to takedown enemies and look for supplies. Everything felt huge and worth exploring. The player was rewarded appropriately for checking every nook and cranny, and the addition of going prone to fit under small spaces or breaking glass to get into locked buildings was a lot of fun. The first day in Seattle as Ellie was especially enjoyable as you got to explore the city and mark things on your map while engaging in dialogue with Dina. Every building held something new and acted as an opportunity for Dina and Ellie to banter.

The art direction was incredible and I don’t think I’ve seen a more stunning looking game. It felt like a lot of time and care went into the design of each item and every corner of every environment. My favorite environments were definitely the homesteads of the major characters/factions (Jackson, the stadium transformed into a village by the WLF, the Seraphite island, etc.) because it told the player more about what everyday life is like for these characters and how they’re similar and different. Also, the weather, time of day, lighting, and use of space (or lack there of) added tension and changed the tone in scenes and levels appropriately. I felt engaged in each moment. I think the best use of visuals and atmosphere to set tone and really immerse the player was in the lower level of the hospital during the Abby playthrough. It was claustrophobic, damp, dark, ominous, and it always felt like danger and despair were right around the corner. And the massive clicker cluster fight in the small hospital corner was one of my favorite parts in the entire game. What would have felt like a silly and dumb concept if encountered elsewhere, was actually legitimately terrifying and really cool due to the tone set from the scene. Seeing the effects of a ground zero site for infection 25 years later was really cool to see.

The music? A masterpiece. We have to stan Gustavo Santaolalla. What more can I say? He did a great job. If nothing else, give the soundtrack a listen.

The acting was incredible, as to be expected. The emotional moments were really sold and carried by the actors and the music together. Ashley Johnson, Troy Baker, Shannon Woodward, and Laura Bailey I expected to be phenomenal and they were, but I’d like to give a shoutout to the newcomers and more minor actors as well. I felt no one had a bad performance, or even an average one. Every performance felt genuine and made me more connected to the characters.

As for new characters, I felt Yara and Lev were the ones I felt the most for and were the best written. The inclusion of Lev being trans was really cool to see as a trans person, and I felt it was executed well within the story. Lev being exiled from the Seraphites for questioning their ways and attempting to transition while Yara fought to remain by his side and protect him, made them both interesting and likable characters. They had depth to their characters. Despite coming from an environment that seemed ruthless and unforgiving they both acted as voice of reasons and wanted to help others, which was their strength and their weakness in the end, adding to their complexity.

The story had it’s moments. I found myself being impacted more during light and happy moments more so than the traumatic and sad ones. I felt a lot of time was put into showing the love and care between Ellie and Dina, and I found myself smiling like a goober when they were being goofy or together or cuddling. This also ties into the LGBTQ representation, which I personally thought was well done as I briefly touched on with Lev. I understand and respect those who felt there was too much trauma forced upon the LGBTQ characters, and I agree with that when it comes to Ellie because the whole game was essentially torturing her. I’ll at least give Naughty Dog credit for avoiding the “bury your gays” trope when they very easily could’ve done that given the constant death in the world of the Last of Us. Treatment aside, as a gay trans man, the overall presentation of these characters I felt was realistic, respectful, and gave me hope for future LGBTQ representation in triple A titles. I know this is literally doing the bare minimum but we gotta start somewhere.

Now, as for things I disliked about the game, there was a lot and I felt the weight of things I disliked outweighed those that I like since the overall experience depended on them more heavily.

I’ll start with the small things that irked me, that could be somewhat excused and are more a personal preference. For starters, I felt the game was too long. After awhile it got repetitive and having nearly the entire game take place in one city (as opposed to the first game that took place across the country), the scenery got old pretty quickly. I feel like a lot of the traveling could have been cut. For example, instead of showing a cut scene where characters say “we have to get to x” and having to basically travel the entire way, it would’ve worked better had it cut to them being at or close to their destination, thus cutting back on repetitive combat. It didn’t feel super rewarding and it only sometimes resulted in something added to the story. In the end, I felt it should be exempt for a similar reason you don’t need to show a character’s entire traveling in a movie, it’s just unnecessary.

Another minor detail that bothered me was the shamblers. Not as a concept, because I thought they were really fun new enemies and added something to combat, but the fact that they felt thrown in with no explanation. Where did they come from? Are they only in the northeast of the US? What caused them? It’s mentioned briefly by one character (I forget who) that it could be a result of excessive rain, but it was just a guess and not further elaborated on.

The fact that events and characters of the first game that were influential to Ellie and Joel’s character seemed to be inappropriately forgotten about. I understand the game is meant to be enjoyed by people who haven’t played the first game as well as fans of the first one, but it could still be done in a way to cater to both audiences. It would also help people who didn’t play the first one learn and connect more to Ellie and Joel. Why was there no Riley-related dialogue for Ellie upon seeing “The Turning” arcade machine? Hell, Riley was never mentioned at all. Same with Tess. Bill was briefly mentioned, but not by name. Ellie’s mom still remained a mystery, and I don’t recall her being mentioned. Henry and Sam? Also never mentioned. Upon seeing Sam’s robot toy in Ellie’s room (which I thought was a nice touch) I would’ve thought he might’ve been brought up in discussion with Dina about past friends. I get that it could be implied Ellie has discussed her past with Dina and others before the events of the game took place, but you have an audience to think about. Essentially you have to think that if the audience didn’t see it or hear about it, it didn’t happen. I feel the omission of past characters and events was a disservice to the first game and was really disappointing.

This relates to something else I disliked: It felt like too much time was spent on characters solo traveling and being in combat and not enough on story and relationship building. I felt the time spent traveling alone as Ellie or Abby was far greater than traveling with a companion. The dialogue and interactions between Ellie and Joel in the first game was crucial to the story and relationship, and when the characters were apart, it made the player that more eager for them to be reunited. They were only ever apart when one was missing/injured or they were unintentionally separated and it made sense to the story. In terms of missed opportunity, I especially thought Jesse’s character was mishandled and wasted. Just as the player was really beginning to know his past and connect with him, he dies a seemingly (in my opinion) stupid death. Not only that, but there’s almost no mention of him or his death after it happens, and Ellie and Dina seem relatively unaffected. I felt like Dina’s character also could’ve been fleshed out better. She was one of my favorite characters, but the things we knew about her didn’t seem to impact the story or her character that much, especially the loss she’s suffered. Her thoughts about her sister’s death and Jesse’s death are barely touched on, and I just felt like I was left wanting more.

Jesse and Dina could’ve definitely been handled better, but at least I cared about them. I didn’t have those feelings towards anyone in Abby’s story (except Yara and Lev). This relates to the bigger problem with the timeline of events and the and the order they were shown in the game, but I’ll touch on this in a bit. Before beginning to know these characters, the only thing you know is that they were involved in killing Joel, and happy about doing so. Now the challenge was to get the player to like them, which the writers failed abysmally. I couldn’t even remember half of their names when they were brought back up. The most influential of Abby’s friends, aside from Owen, seems to be Manny and the only things we get to know about him is that he’s horny, likes to get drunk, and - much like the writers - tries to force other characters to like each other (i.e. Mel and Abby). He only exists to establish Mel and Abby’s relationship and to save and help Abby when they encounter Tommy trying to snipe them. Mel and Abby (who I will touch on extensively in her own paragraph because yikes) both seemed like miserable people to be around and their relationship seemed catty and to simply revolve around Owen. I’m kinda sick of having women characters’ relationships revolve around the fact that one of them used to date the guy that the other is now currently dating. It’s stupid and I couldn’t give less of a fuck if that’s the biggest roadblock in their relationship. Also Mel calling Abby a piece of shit seemed unwarranted based on what we knew. Like we knew Mel was against the brutality of Joel’s death, but the way she spoke to and of Abby seemed like there was something else that the writers forgot to tell/show the audience. Abby never did anything personal to Mel (that Mel knew of) yet Mel decides to hate her guts and be unreasonable? Nora was kind of okay and seemed like an actual decent person (aside from wanting Joel dead and them making that shitty comment to Ellie) in her relationship with Abby. She was willing to risk getting in trouble to help Abby, but we weren’t given enough time with her to make me give a shit, especially after what she said to Ellie. Owen had potential to be likable; he was charming, funny, a bit of a fuckboy, but nonetheless was optimistic and hopeful. But for some reason the writers decided to throw out any ounce of care we had for him by having him cheat on Mel with Abby in a shitty sex scene. 

Now for my thoughts on Abby. My thoughts about her also relate to my thoughts on the order of events, and a few other aspects I haven’t mentioned yet, so forgive me if my thoughts are a bit all over the place. I really really tried to sympathize and like Abby, but holy shit they fucked up every possible opportunity to create some sort of likability. For starters, it boggles my mind that they had her commit the atrocity that was Joel’s death as basically the introduction to her character. Not only that, but just mere minutes beforehand Joel had saved her life and shown her nothing but kindness and she goes on to torture him and continue to do so while his surrogate daughter begs and screams for her to stop. She shows no guilt both in the moment or afterwards. It doesn’t eat her up inside at all. Every time Joel is brought up by Abby and her friends, she wastes no time expressing how elated she is that she not only killed him, but did so in such a gruesome way. You really expect fans to even WANT to like this character after she tortures and kills the only other character (besides Ellie) that fans LOVED. And I’m not upset that Joel died, because I expected he would and there were a million ways it could’ve been done appropriately to both the story and fans. But the way he died and how early he died at the hands of essentially some nobody really rubbed me the wrong way, they essentially threw him away without any honor to the experience we had with him in the first game. So, that’s our introduction to Abby and her friends. Again, the writers had the challenge of trying to make us like her, but it felt like they didn’t even try. Every attempt to make her likable fell flat either due to an action that happened right before or after. Abby’s only expression of sorrow is after the death of her father and Owen. Manny’s death is never mentioned after it happens and she seems to act like it never really happened. There is no remorse when she kills Jesse and Tommy, or anyone for that matter. She and (seemingly most of the WLF) condone and even get off on torturing Seraphites (they’re terrible people but if you’re trying to make me like a character, I don’t think you should have them condone the torturing of anyone). Abby is quick to kill Dina even after learning she’s pregnant, to which she comments, “good” and only stops because Lev is an actual decent human being and gets her to stop. And the writers have the gall to try and compare her to Ellie; trying to be like, “see she and Ellie aren’t so different uwu.” Meanwhile, Ellie is crying each time she hits Nora; she just wants Abby, she didn’t want to have to torture Nora like that. Ellie is traumatized after finding out that Mel is pregnant after killing her. Ellie is constantly shown to be grappling with the consequences and feelings of her actions. She experiences guilt and shame while Abby is shown time and time again to not regret her wrongdoings. The writers really tried to push us to like Abby by having her care for Yara and Lev, but I felt she did it out of selfishness and needing to feel good about herself not because she truly cared for these kids.

Going back to Joel’s death, the gruesomeness wasn’t even warranted based on Abby’s reasoning. Abby’s dad didn’t get murdered in front of her and he was killed because he stood in Joel’s way, holding a scalpel to Ellie. Jerry’s death was quick and painless too. And I know people will be like, “but Abby was also mad because now there’s no cure because of what Joel did!!!” However, she had no problem wanting to kill, or leave Ellie alone despite knowing she was immune. Abby was never on a quest to capture Ellie or talk her into finding the Fireflies with her (which would have made for an interesting storyline actually), she wanted her dead too. Joel’s death was the most tasteless death of a beloved character I think I’ve ever experienced.

Also the order of events was really detrimental to the story and especially Abby’s character. The way that flashbacks were thrown in throughout the story after Joel’s death fell flat and made Joel’s death feel even worse. The Joel and Ellie flashbacks were honestly the highlight of the game because we got to spend time with the only 2 fleshed out and likable characters. Had they been placed at the beginning of the game and also showed more of their relationship after Joel tells Ellie the truth about the Fireflies, I would’ve felt his death would have been more okay (still shitty, but slightly better than what they gave us) because it would feel more unexpected and it would hit better emotionally after these moments we had with Ellie and Joel. Hell, the majority of the game should have been as it was advertised (which is another issue I’m gonna touch on shortly): the rocky relationship between Joel and Ellie after Ellie learns the truth and the two of them going on a revenge quest together, as Joel tried to earn Ellie’s forgiveness. The events presented in the order in the game also made it impossible for anyone to try to like Abby. We learn she commits the biggest atrocity and we know all her friends are going to end up dead, so there’s no emotional impact when we see how they die because we’ve known the whole time they were gonna be killed by Ellie. Both Abby’s character and the story they were trying to tell could’ve have been really great and interesting but it was just so poorly executed. 

The story itself seemed so amateur as well. It just boiled down to “revenge and violence are bad uwu” while giving the player no choice but to engage in said violence. They tried to create a gray area between good and evil like they did in the first game, especially with Abby’s story but they ended up doing the opposite. Also the weak use of animals and pregnancy to create emotional impact is just so easy. They couldn’t think of any other way to make us connect to the characters except “hey look they love this animal” or “this is someone who is going to have a baby under these rough circumstances” and it’s just sloppy writing especially because they use both tactics MORE THAN ONCE. 

The intersecting stories, themes of “what really is good/evil,” redemption of a thought to be unlikable character, and the death of a beloved character would have been so interesting and emotionally impactful if done right, but it felt like Naughty Dog chose every terrible option and outcome, resulting in the wet fart that we got. It felt sloppy with no honoring of the previous game or characters. We all cared, but apparently the writer’s didn’t. The ending with Ellie essentially being left with what she feared most, being alone, would’ve been way more appropriate had anything prior warranted this consequence. Not only is she alone, but Ellie loses the ability to play guitar, a way in which she remembered and felt connected to Joel. Like she goes through hell, and 99% of her actions are justified, yet she gets punished.

Lastly, I want to touch on the false advertising for the game. Normally, I wouldn’t be upset because movie trailers do it all the time where there will be subtle differences or added scenes that don’t occur in the movie, but this was a whole other level of fuckery. I get trying to mislead people to think something is going to happen only to steer them in a different direction, in fact I think this is really cool and fun when done well. However, this was straight up lying and essentially selling an entirely different game. Not only were these lies perpetuated in trailers and ads, but even in events such as E3. Neil Druckmann constantly harped on the idea that the game was going to be about Ellie and Joel having a falling out after Ellie learns the truth and how they navigate their relationship through their next adventure together. Yet the game was never about that, instead it was just a story about drawing shitty parallels between a beloved character and a new character who was destined to be unlikable from the start.

In the end, I think it’s still worth playing because I’ve seen so many mixed reviews floating around so I feel it’s best to make your own opinion. And if nothing else, it’s a fun experience if you’re just looking at a fun game to play if you don’t really care too much about the series or characters as a whole. Will I return to this game? Not anytime soon likely. But just being the fan that I am of the series I think I’ll try to get most of the achievements eventually, and to experiment with photomode because the visuals are so good. Even with how much of a disservice this game is to the series, I don’t think it ruins it for me. It just makes me love and appreciate the first game even more and I think they could bounce back from this, but they’d need to put in a shit ton of work to earn their core audience back.

TL;DR: As an addition to the Last of Us as a series, the game is a huge disappointment and disservice, but as a standalone game it’s slightly above average. The gameplay, music, and visuals slap but the story, characters, and relationship building (or lack thereof) suck. Naughty Dog lied in a highly scummy way to fans via advertisements and trailers. Fuck Abby. Stan Lev and Yara.

[truly-fantastic-me]

Contrary to popular belief in the fandom, Avatar Kyoshi did a lot more for the world than the series give her credit for. (And I honestly really hope the Shadow of Kyoshi will actually go into and confirm this because honestly, the more I learn about my mother the more annoyed I am about the “Kyoshi was a Terrible Avatar™ because she did nothing while Chin took over the EK blah blah blah.” Even before I discovered my memories, that theory just sounded way off. The woman lived to be 230 years old! There’s no way that the Dai Li and the Kyoshi Warriors were her only contributions) 

So here is a list of some of the things that she accomplished. 

Women’s education. Before Kyoshi’s time, in most places around the world, girls weren’t allowed in schools.  

Basic human rights for women, people of color, LGBTQ+ individuals, and disabled people. 

Stood against the incarceration of people of color. Yes, whiteness wasn’t a thing in the Avatar world, but colorism was. 

Safe transition for trans people. Introduced the idea of using gender neutral pronouns. 

Made it legal in most places outside the Earth Kingdom for same-sex couples to get married 

Basically told every world leader to feed their goddamn people or else and it worked 

Founded hundreds of homeless shelters, abuse shelters and they were all gender-inclusive 

Made laws that were more for the rights of the people rather than the greed of the government. The poor gal had to constantly travel around the world because world leaders decided to make stupid laws. Crime rates went down to a manageable point because of this 

Safety requirements for marine travel (i.e. enough lifeboats for everyone in the event of a sinking) 

Scientific Research. My mother was also quite a bit of a scientist. Here are some of the things she discovered. 

The gravitational pull of the earth, sun and moon. 

The fact that there are other planets out there and stars are just burning balls of gas and light millions of miles away 

Plate tectonics. Come on, guys, how else did she manage to split the land without causing so much damage?? 

The little-known fact that combustion bending can be reverse, if caught before hitting the target. It’s how she learned how to dismantle bombs as made in her time. 

The fact that metalbending is entirely possible, but couldn’t tap into it. 

How to design almost storm-resistant ships. She figured out that the more flexible an object, the less likely it is to break. She designed ships to move with the water during a storm rather than against it and because of that, the success of her shipyard went up tremendously. 

That the human brain is a complex organ and that there are many factors contributing to how one functions. Psychology 

The world called her crazy for her scientific theories, but of course, she was right about 99% of them.

Conclusion: My mother was fucking badass

[dysperdis]

tw: traumablogging, talking about suicide & abuse, sexual trauma.

I need to get this shit out, in one big chunk, before I lose track of it.

I keep wondering why the fuck Beru decided to spend so long treating me like shit. Do they just hate me? Was I just a convenient target? Did they realize they'd let their mask slip in front of me & decided I needed to go? Why did the abuse start so immediately? 

Beru basically started moving in within a week after I said it wasn't fair of the two of them to jump straight into the "overly-obsessed new couple" stage of a relationship without so much as a heads up to the other two people involved with this relationship, long before I had any inkling that they were actually already fucking by that point. By week 3, the complaints were pouring in about how "unwelcome" I was making Beru feel by, say, insisting that they tell the other people living in the suite when they're going to spend the night before putting on their pyjamas and setting up on the couch, or letting me know to make food that Beru could eat without taking over the single bathroom in the house for most of the evening (& of course, they "didn't want to make extra work" by saying anything when I was asking them to simply let me know before I started making food!), or literally any frustration I expressed over my boundaries being ignored, all of which were delivered to me by Monica, not Beru, but very clearly as a result of Beru's complaints. I wasn't allowed to set any boundaries; I could be lying half dressed in my bed with Monica with the door shut having a conversation & Beru would invite themselves not just into the room or conversation, but *into my fucking bed* without so much as a word to me. These violations were constant, and at the same time I was pressured into doing more to facilitate the relationship, including chauffeuring the two of them around so they could go to Beru's apartment (did I mention yet that Beru lived alone, and could have been inviting Monica to visit them instead of invading my only available workspace & telling me that wanting to work there made me an asshole?)

The "sleepovers" happening at random most nights a week over that summer were undermining my ability to do any work for the upcoming events I was paying for table space at, space I shared with Beru because I wasn't confident of my own ability to fill a table & thought a "friend" might be able to help. I was explicitly told that wanting to work in the living room overnight for creative work when no one else was awake to use  it was an unfair attempt to monopolize and dominate the suite's common space. Even after I asked Beru to spend time away from the home  because I felt like the lack of boundaries was incredibly unhealthy for me, I still felt obliged to facilitate the relationship in ways that continued to deny me a chance to set any sort of healthy boundaries because of the previous months spent harping on how "unfair" I was being by expecting Monica to prioritize the relationship she was still referring to as her "Primary" relationship & the health of the partner she was calling "husband" over the happiness of her continuing affair with Beru.

I'm pretty sure I paid for 100% of all the tables, including the Canzine table Beru had entirely to themselves because I knew if I went I'd end up pulling out the zine I made to vent about how stressed I was about everything going on, and all of the gaslighting I was starting to notice even then but let myself ignore. I don't know if knowing the answers to any of this would help me, but it probably would help Monica, if it's not another thing she already knows and has been trying to deny while everything burns around her. But I'm not sure if I can ask without my bitterness making it sound like pure pettiness. I kinda wish I had gone to Canzine and taken the zine & let it all blow up then, I would have felt bad about it afterwards but I doubt it would have been anywhere near as terrible as I've been feeling for the last 2 years, but I  wasn't willing to toss 6 years away for someone who only inserted themselves into our lives so substantially a few months prior.

When I told Monica about my discomfort, that I couldn't have this person involved in my life, she acted like she understood. She made a new friend during this time, and started visiting them "going out for coffee" a lot. She kept finding excuses for why I shouldn't worry about giving her a ride, and finally she admitted that it was because she was still seeing the person she had cheated on me with, and pressured me into agreeing that it was "incredibly unfair" to demand she either stop cheating, or stop pretending to respect our relationship. She told me she wanted to work on our relationship, while targetting my insecurities to convince me that expecting honesty and respect for my boundaries was abusive, and that I was overreacting. Throughout this time, I was gradually scheduling my life more and more around when Beru wanted to see Monica; the solution Beru, Monica, and Liz decided on for "letting me get Beru out of my life" was to continue seeing Beru while never mentioning their name, or giving me details I needed to know how to schedule my own day-to-day life. If you ever wanted to know how someone could participate in abuse without actually directly interacting with them, well, there's you're answer- you continue as a shadow presence in their life while your fellow abusers take all the direct action. And, every time the subject came up, Monica didn't actually want to break up with me, and agreed to "work on things" (tell me how I needed to forgive her & stop ~getting in the way of her happiness~, but also maybe planning 2 or 3 "date nights" with me before getting distracted & falling immediately back into the same habits. At some point, she started using the insecurities she had learned about me thru the years to start convincing me that I needed her, and that I wouldn't be able to survive without her. She knew exactly what fears to prey on, and I believed her. Meanwhile, Monica had a whole new circle of friends, who Beru has been telling that the reason I can't stand to be around them is jealousy or some shit. I thought I was imagining the distain in their voices when they realized I was there, but no- Beru has been telling lies to them about me, and Monica is too concerned with them liking Beru to intervene, so now she's surrounding herself with people who don't like me and are enouraging her to dislike me.

As for Liz, she pretended to be a neutral party throughout, shutting me down any time I tried to bring up concerns about the effect Beru's shadow presence in my life by telling me "she's Beru's friend, too" so it was inappropriate to talk to her about it- even when I had literally just tried to kill myself for the second time in 4 days. I had long ago noticed that Beru seemed to get upset any time word got back to them about me complaining about the various issues I had with their relationship with Monica & the implications of my own & that when that happened, Monica started taking it out on me; between that and a desire to "protect" Monica- who was slowly but surely picking up a lot of Beru's cruelty and boundary issues- from judgement because a) she was the one who was doing most of the direct harm, even the stuff that was clearly initiated by Beru, and 2) Beru has a bit more social padding to protect them (a cutesy autistic dfab enby vs a recently-transitioned trans woman with a history of ~scary~ mental illness DXs). So I stopped talking to friends about my issues. I'm not going to go into details about the boundary issues except to say that being surprise face-fucked the first time I tried to give head at 14 by a dude who was loudly disappointed I didn't swallow is no longer the most traumatic sexual violation I've experienced.

Meanwhile, Monica (and to a lesser extent, Liz) were encouraging me to distance myself from my last remaining safety net outside of that garbage fire of a relationship because the idea of coming out to anyone in my family made them uncomfortable. So, instead of dealing with it, they turned anything that involved me interacting with my family at the house for more than 5 or 10 minutes into a sign that my boundaries with my family were still too weak, and I needed to make them stronger. I needed to not talk to my elderly grandma because of how stressful it was for me (mostly because I kept having scramble to come up with more lies about so many details of my own relationship, because being honest with someone who had no way of outting them to anyone they'd care about even if they were inclined to do so was too uncomfortable.)

By the end of the relationship, when Liz walked out the door with less than 24 hours actual notice of her move out date (and no, a single spoken sentence a week before to a person who was between back-to-back suicide attempts, trying to keep track of a 3rd person in the convo who was bouncing rapidly between mania and an extreme suicidal state, and also on T3 & a bunch of antibiotics with harsh side effects does not fucking count, no matter how much she pretends otherwise,) someone tried to get me to see her side by asking me if it didn't make sense that she was avoiding actually giving me anything that resembled a reasonable amount of notice because she felt "awkward" talking to me, and I fucking snapped.

Maybe if she had sucked it up and had one or two of those "awkward conversations" a little earlier, I wouldn't have needed to ask her to hide the pills so I didn't go through with the plans I had made to kill myself that night (I was literally double checking my math on the dosages when she got home). Instead, she pretended to be a neutral bystander in her own relationship, while taking advantage of my subservience and inability to set boundaries in most situations. Most of the private time I sought out with Monica ended up including Liz because I felt I wasn't allowed to say no to that, either.

I was accused of driving away my support network by calling out Liz and saying that any other abuse apologists who wanted to defend Beru to me could piss off with her, but I strongly disagree. Considering Liz part of my support network was a dangerous mistake that could have gone much worse, if she had decided to stay out a little longer or something that night, or had snuck to her room without me noticing (a common occurrence, I had taken it as a sign that I was still taking up too much space by existing in the common spaces of the house.)

Basically, all three of them were fucking awful to me over the last 2 years, and used any negativity I displayed about the situations they were putting me in to beat me over the head, telling me how "unfair" I was.