#and more beanish worldbuilding because I have now adopted them (yes I've adopted the entire species)

[peaches2217]

"I think I'm a woman," Luigi blurts out one night. He doesn't really mean to; he's sitting in bed with Peasley, who's flipping through this week's issue of Lentiltainment Weekly, and he himself has been staring at the same page of his book for the past half hour. This is a thought that's been circling through his head for too long now, he supposes. It's gonna lead him nowhere if he doesn't at least try to talk it out.

Peasley blinks up from his magazine. He looks surprised, but not at all unsettled. "Huh." He takes one last glance at the page he's on before setting his reading material aside, an action Luigi finds himself mimicking. "Are you thinking of changing your name, then? Of course, there's no rush if you haven't settled on anything. We can prepare the announcement in the meantime."

"...Announcement?"

"That you're to be addressed as Princess Consort moving forward," Peasley says, almost offhandedly, like it's the most obvious and casual thought in the world. "We'll make a feast of it if you'd like. Ah! How about I commission Madame Haricot? I'll have her tailor the most exquisite gown you've ever worn, adorned with the most brilliant of jewels! It's the least I could do for such an occassion."

Luigi almost forgets that his situation isn't quite that simple, because he's so grateful that this is the man he married, someone who so desperately loves him no matter his identity. But there is more to it, and that's something he can't ignore.

"It's not— I mean there's..." Luigi shakes his hands as he searches for his words. "It's not like 'Ope! I'm not a guy after all!' I'm... I feel like I'm definitely still a guy, but I'm also not, y'know? And I just... I don't know. I mean, am I a guy or a girl or what?"

Peasley, absently mirroring Luigi's nervous stim, hums. "Perhaps you're both," he suggests. And for a moment, something within Luigi's chest feels warm and light. It makes sense, at first blush, that he can't settle on one or the other because he's not one or the other, but—

"I can't be both."

"Whyever not?"

"Because..." and Luigi has to stop to find his words once more. To Peasley, to his entire species, such matters usually are as simple as Why not both?. After all, logic dictates that no living organism should be both a plant and a mammal, yet here's an entire species that is. When your entire existence is a paradox, everything else seems so straightforward.

On top of that, Beanish views on such matters as gender are quite lax, owing greatly to the fact that they're predominantly intersex. Babies are typically assigned either male or female, but many decide somewhere down the line that they're another gender, or some mix of genders, or no gender at all; a young Beanish person independently affirming their identity is as much a coming-of-age tradition as turning sixteen and getting your first car is in the world Luigi comes from. Peasley himself went through it, disagreeing with the gender he was assigned at birth and being re-crowned as a prince in response. It's incredibly common.

But they're Beanish, and Luigi is human, and just because he married into a society without strict gender rules doesn't mean he himself can adopt those rules. Right...?

"I don't know," he finally says, because he's not sure what else he can say. He's frustrated, because he wants the answer to be that simple, to be able to say he's as much one thing as the other, to accept himself as he is rather than try to figure out what he isn't. But he's just not sure.

"Well... it's okay not to know." Peasley kicks at the blankets covering their legs so he can more comfortably face Luigi and take his hands. There's warmth in his deep brown eyes, a warmth Luigi knows all too well yet is certain he'll never understand.

"I don't like not knowing who I am," he confesses. He's sure he sounds like a whining child, but the uncertainty so deeply rooted within him is agonizing.

"You're my Greenie." Peasley gives his hands a gentle squeeze, smiling softly. "We can figure out the rest as we go. Until then, that remains an unshakable truth."

And Luigi can't help but smile back, swallowing thickly against the threat of oncoming tears. He knows Peasley doesn't fully understand his uncertainties. They grew up in two very different worlds. But he knows how deeply affected Luigi remains by the taboos of his old world, and he can see that in the loving gaze across from him: the assertion of Even if I'm not sure where you're coming from, I'll be right here with you no matter what.

"...I can still commission Madame Haricot if you'd like," Peasley says after a moment, and something in his smile looks a touch more mischievous. "I'm sure a new gown will cheer you up."

"I'm starting to think you're offering more for your own sake than for mine."

"Well it's not my fault you're so exceedingly attractive!" And Peasley sounds so suddenly defensive, almost offended, that Luigi can't help but burst into laughter.

"Okay!" He tries to match Peasley's defensive tone, but he's laughing too hard to sound convincing, and that in turn breaks Peasley from his pouting spell. "Okay, let's do it."

"Oh, I was so hoping you'd say that!" Peasley cheers and pulls Luigi into him, and all at once his uncertainties are forgotten, at least for now. They'll be back, and they'll undoubtedly weigh on him, but no matter what, he won't be alone. No matter what, he'll be loved.