#and so much of it is thanks to being a faggot and FINALLY exploring that

[ratslutuncontained]

by the way it's SO cool finally letting myself be attracted to and fuck men

[ryanlockheart]

keegan couldn't help but fall for zeke. with his slender frame, plump ass, and nonchalant attitude, he was everything he could've ever wanted and more. he had no idea, though, getting involved with the little minx would put him in the middle of a tryst with his step-brother. keegan just couldn't help himself. he was along for the ride and suddenly exploring a new side of himself — and he had only zeke to thank for pulling it out of him. "ya got me now... you're gonna be put to good use, and when i've gotcha all fucked out and shaky, that's when i'm gonna whip your daddy into shape," landon said with a dark chuckle. he'd certainly never imagined he'd get his step-brother down on his knees for him. hell, he'd never quite imagined being with a boy before... but he'd seen zeke in action and knowing keegan was addicted to him already, landon's ego wouldn't let him pass up two free pussies. "n-no, i can't. he is fuckin' hot, and i'd've done the same thing just to get a sniff of his socks," keegan admitted, his face flushed red. "it'll be my favorite thing to do... eatin' my daddy's loads out my princess's little pussy." he was a shell of the dominant playboy he'd been just moments ago, and it felt amazing to just let loose for once. "sounds like you should gotten one of 'em the double-ended dildos and shared my socks with your little girlfriend, keegs," landon teased with the smugest grin on his lips. "real gross by the way... y'know i don't throw 'em in the hamper 'less i've worn 'em for like a week, right?" keegan could see how much he was enjoying himself with that mischievous twinkle in landon's brown eyes. that just made his aching cock even harder. "you were thinkin' about him? 's that why you were cumming so quick lately?" keegan couldn't help but ask, looking up at zeke with wide eyes. "my cock's not good enough anymore... is it?" the lithe boy was planted in landon's lap, his hands grabbing those thick curves happily. "didn't take much. little fag's been dyin' to be my little slut," landon chuckled. plump cheeks parted in front of his face, and his own cock jumped at the sight of that bubblegum pink ring of muscle. zeke was so pristine, he never would've guessed he'd been touched before. "we're gonna train the little bitch," landon agreed with a nod. "you're gonna push his head down on my cock... and don't either of ya think about stopping. i wanna nut." keegan's face glistened with sweat, slobber, and cum. he might've cared any other time, but in that moment, he was too high off that manly scent that permeated off landon's muscled body. "i am a faggot, baby. i'm your daddy's faggot," keegan whined. he was nestled between his step-brother's thighs, eager tongue hanging wide out. "more than ready... been waiting months," he croaked out. landon's ego was only inflating tenfold with each passing second. no one could tell him anything. he had the two prettiest boys in the world all to himself, and he was going to make the best of it all. landon's face found itself resting between zeke's plump curves. his tongue flicked upwards, tracing his entrance with the tip of his cock. it only grew in vigor and intensity as time wore on. drool was dripping down landon's chin, but he didn't give a damn. keegan, on the other hand, was finding his footing still. he finally pressed his nose to landon's musky balls, taking in a deep whiff. his tongue darted across the sweaty sac, eyes rolling back into his head. "unh... fuck, that's good, daddy," keegan whined. "god, 'm turnin' into a real faggot, aren't i?"

zeke hadn't seen this side of keegan before. he was a smooth-talking guy, one of the hottest charelston had to offer. zeke was shocked that he had even caught keegan's attention, but he quickly realized that he was exactly what the little rich boy was looking for. keegan didn't want clean-cut and proper, or even a boy that he could take home to his parents. he wanted filthy, and no one could do that better than zeke — or landon, as zeke was learning. "he does his best, but 's hard to satisfy a little slut like me. need a real man t'do it," zeke replied with a wink. he was certain that keegan knew he was teasing. no one had ever pleased him quite like keegan — but landon was there to shake things up. who was zeke to disagree? "aw, keegs. don't pout... can you blame me? he's so hot, i just knew he'd ruin my cunt and turn me into his personal footslut," he teased, reaching out to stroke the boy's cheek. "you can steal clean his load outta my pussy, baby." as zeke watched keegan beg, he knew that he and landon's goal had been accomplished. any semblance of keegan's strong, cocky persona was gone. "i can't believe i ever let you fuck me, keegs. if i had known that y'were stealing your brother's dirty socks to get off, you would've never gotten close t'my little cunt," zeke teased. he had no idea if keegan's story was true, but he certainly hoped that it was. "i knew that i was thinking about his sweaty feet while you were fuckin' me, but i had no idea you were." zeke climbed into landon's lap with a smirk on his lips. "you've done such a good job with him already, daddy," he giggled, nuzzling his face into the older boy's neck. "can't wait to watch him throat your cock — can i show you how it's done, daddy?" zeke crawled down to landon's cock, perky ass right in front of the dark-haired boy's face. he pressed his face up against it, taking a long whiff of landon's musk. "smells so good, like a real man," zeke groaned, just as keegan's head popped up. "y'look like such a faggot right now, keegs," zeke chuckled. he leaned in, slowly lapping any excess cum from keegan's face. he swallowed it down with a hum, as he'd done many times before. "you ready to get a taste of daddy's fat cock, baby? look how big it is," he hummed, slapping landon's cock against his cheek. "don't worry — i'm gonna show you how to please a man, keegs. you're gonna be the best little cocksucker once i'm done." zeke jiggled his ass in landon's face, smirking over his shoulder. "what are you waitin' for, daddy? y'know you wanna get a taste of my pink little pussy," zeke teased. "and you — get your face in his balls, y'little faggot. want you to be gooning before you get a taste of his cock."

[gatheringbones]

hey bones I'm a femme lesbian but i feel like I'm not entirely a woman idk how to explain like i feel like a funhouse mirror version of a lady but I don't think I'm nonbinary as well bc only certain gendered terms (like queen) make me flinch from them but not others? idk what to do, do you have any recommended reading to figure this out?? i live in a v homophobic country and don't know any other lesbian irl to talk about this

I don’t necessarily want to recommend reading certain materials that would give you the definite, clear-cut, completely unambiguous example of what you’re looking for (even though Joan Nestle’s work in particular jumps out at me as having very much to say about lesbian and femme especially as their own genders) because I find myself questioning the efficacy of simply handing you a citation and saying “See? There you are in your entirety. Somebody figured it all out for you thirty years ago and it’s all in here, problem solved.” I don’t think that’s possible, frankly; I think there are still pieces of you that won’t line up exactly, especially considering the cultural differences and societal pressures you face that directly inform how you interact with gender and history and desire and presentation, and that not lining up is still going to feel lonely and uncomfortable and potentially forbidden for you.

What I would like to offer you instead, if I can scrounge the words together, is that no matter what you read, you’re going to find examples of people who had absolutely no language or theory or analysis surrounding who or what they are, and how those common those accounts are in the historical and literary record. I would point towards people from historical periods who when presented with the current definitions of what a lesbian for sure was and wasn’t, promptly said “ah, no thank you” and trailblazed into territories of gender so forbidden it barred them from taking part in wider lesbian culture as it was defined and defended at the time. People who grew up very rural, or very working class, or both, people from below the poverty line, people with different racial backgrounds; all sorts of people whose class and racial backgrounds do not remotely line up with white, upper-class, academic cis-feminism, whose language has always been inadequate at describing how much diversity of experience there is with people who choose to interact with the lesbian label. I would want to point you towards people who did it wrong, in other words, who were the thing that you feel isn’t permissible within the current language system that’s been approved for lesbianism, and who carried on being that thing despite the vocal and enthusiastic presence of a great many people who saw lesbianism as a crumbling fortress beset on all sides by tainted invaders.

Joan Nestle’s great for this, but so is Leslie Feinberg— wordlessness and ambiguity and the freedom you can find in both runs all throughout hir work, and you can find echoes of that trickster strength in all kinds of authors— Amy Fox, Audre Lorde, Sinclair Sexsmith, Tristen Taormino, Rae Spoon, Ivan Coyote. Ivan’s also who I turn to when I want to read someone who grew up in the backcountry with no theory because that’s me; I didn’t grow up in a city with visible gay people, I grew up with no electricity or running water in a shack with crazy people who were very vocal about performing violence on anyone who so much as resembled a homosexual, and I grew into a gender and sexuality shaped by my trauma and disembodiment and the kind of searing rural loneliness that only people who lived it are going to be able to empathize with. Right now I’m thinking about the story from Bushfire I read that’s set at a secret Black lesbian house party in the south where there’s so much conversation and vernacular happening and the moments of sexuality are so bewilderingly presented that you can’t tell what anybody necessarily is only that it’s wonderfully unlikely that any of this is happening at all. I’m thinking about Larry Mitchell and The Faggots and Their Friends In Between Revolutions and how much of that book has to do with intentionally fucking with categories in order to subvert patriarchal control. (“The faggots and their friends and the women who love women can keep the men off balance for a long time by subtly, but continually, changing their identities. The men who are in charge of controlling it all find it difficult always to know how many of each kind there are, and who they are. Each group can grow and shrink as the men’s changing ferociousness demands.”) I’m also thinking about Jeanne Cordova writing in anguish about having to cut the chains off of her boots because the lesbian feminist scene she was involved with said they were “male-identified” and therefore forbidden. I’m thinking about the white woman at the Womyn’s festival in Minnie Bruce Patt’s S/he who pokes one of her companions in the chest and accuses them of having “boy energy” and that they need to leave immediately, and of Leslie Feinberg turning to them and asking her to decide right then and there what gender ze is and whether or not ze should be kicked out as well. (“You turn to the angry woman and ask quietly, “What about me? Do I have male energy? Am I a woman or a man?” She pauses, taken aback, and finally says, “I don’t want to talk about each person...” You reply, “But you do want someone to decide. You want someone to judge, and us to submit to judgement. So tell me, am I a man or a woman? Tell me how you can decide? The woman falls completely silent, all of us sit silent. She does not answer. She walks away.”) I’m thinking of ambiguousness as a defense mechanism and a weapon all in one, because people do all sorts of things when presented with ambiguousness that tell you exactly who they are, and people who can co-exist with and honor ambiguousness are incredibly rare. I think that feeling like a funhouse mirror of a woman is only dangerous in spaces where ambiguity and exploration aren’t allowed, where it isn’t safe because of the presence of people who find more meaning and comfort and safety in mapped categories than they do in the lived experience of gender outlaws. I think they’re delusional and brittle and authoritarian and that Larry had them pegged exactly right. I want to invite you, if at all possible, to see your status as both incredibly common and a gift.

Will you run across something that seems to describe you word for word and fills you with joy and certainty? It’s more than possible; lesbians are a prolific bunch and the more you keep tracking down and reading the more likely you’ll come across something exactly like that. But if you don’t? if it’s a lifelong search, or more like an ongoing conversation between you and other members of your community, throughout history and person-to-person? that’s even more likely, that seems like what we’re all doing. And if you end up being your own weird thing, to the point where some For Real Lesbian points at you and shouts that you’re undermining and betraying the very concept of lesbianism? you’ve made it baby! You’re in such good company!

[rubydoll311]

The beginning of my story

Ok I've been thinking about this for a few weeks and I think I'm ready to post this. This is my story, well a piece of it anyway, there is a lot more that I haven't begin to touch on. Hopefully I can really truly flesh out everything with the reporter in the next few months. So if you are curious to know who I am and where I came from, then read on.

I was born James Erick Threadgill (Jimmy/Jimbo) in Saint Louis in July of 1975, my parents like many of the 70’s were stoners and I grew up thinking that this was just as normal as breathing. When I was 2 we moved to the small town of Sikeston MO. (you know the place with Lamberts home of the throwed rolls). My childhood was fairly normal, both of my parents worked full time, went out on occasion and liked to have people over to play music and smoke. I remember always wanting to be a part of the group with the adults. My dad was a very stereotypical man’s man and did not like for my little brother and I to do anything that he deemed to effeminate, If we did he was quick to throw around the work faggot and worse if we were to push it. At a very young age I realized I wasn’t like other boys but I couldn’t figure out why. I was never attracted to boys but I always preferred the company of girls and growing up my friend group was mostly girls. I envied them. Secretly I wanted to wear clothes like them and to truly fit in in their circles. I didn’t feel like I had anyone to share my feelings with, as it was just unheard of and the closest thing (gay people) were treated like freaks and weirdos by everyone I knew. My school life was pretty average until middle school which is when I truly figured out that I just didn’t belong. My first girlfriend moved away, my friends found other friend groups and it became weird for the girls to hang out with boys they weren’t dating. I felt lost, I didn’t fit in with anyone and I felt like there was something wrong with me. It was then the bullying started, I was quiet, tall, skinny, had giant plastic framed glasses and I was a pacifist so I was a walking target for bullies. I’ll never forget one day I refused to fight a bully that was hitting me in front of my house, He punched me in the face and I walked away crying, little did I know that my dad was watching. When I got inside my dad shoved me against the door, slapped me in the face and screamed WHY DIDN”T YOU FIGHT!! Before grabbing me by the neck and hitting me upside the head two more times. I will never forget that moment for as long as I live. Dad was a Marine in Vietnam and he expected me to be as tough as him if not more so. My dad definitely had an anger problem and once you set off his short fuse it led to a beating, and it changed every time spanking with a hand, belt, hot wheels track, you name it, so I did my best not to anger him, but I’m an emotional person and emotions were definitely a trigger with him. My mom definitely kept his anger in check but she worked nights so she wasn’t there for a lot of his rage moments. He would always come back and apologize to me for losing his temper but then he’d try to blame me for getting him mad. I once heard someone tell me online that I’m only transgender because I didn’t have a strong male role model in my life. I’m living proof that his theory is crap. Having a super manly dad won’t make you anymore of a man when that’s not who you are inside. So school was hell, home was hell at times and I had no one to go to with my problems, so I learned to push it all down and bear it, and to keep moving forward.

In 1989 one of the people that bought or sold drugs from my parents got arrested and my parents decided to pack up suddenly and move to Georgia to avoid repercussions. They tried to tell me and my brother that it was because of the predicted earthquake on 12-31-89. I wasn’t stupid and I often listened to what they talked about when they thought my brother and I were asleep. So very suddenly my life was uprooted and I had to leave the few friends I had and everything I knew behind to live in Newnan Georgia, a small civil war town. Life was tough there, we had to live with my aunt and uncle for a few months while my parents looked for work. They eventually found work, my mom at a gas station and dad was a security guard. We got an apartment and life started to get back to some semblance of normalcy. It was at this apartment that I befriended a maintenance man there. I quickly learned that he had ulterior motives when he got me alone in his van and offer me things for sex. I was very much still a virgin at this point and had no interest in men so I kindly refused, he told me I could never tell my parents about this and he placed his hand on my leg. I’m very thankful that I walked away from that without being raped. I did eventually tell my parents but only after we were on our way out of Georgia because I knew my dad would have killed him. I have no doubt in my mind.

In early 1990 we moved back to Saint Louis because we were dirt poor in Georgia. My dad got a good job at MSD and my mom got an office job, things finally started to pick up. The first year was really hard as the four of us were living in a 3 room duplex in south city and I was getting really bullied in the city school I was attending (Southwest) as I was a minority in the school and racial tensions were high due to the Rodney King beating around that time. At that school I was hung out of a second story window and I had my head rammed into a marble wall and into a toilet full of my own feces. I got accused of making that one up by the principal and sent back to class. My Georgia accent that I picked up didn’t help matters. I was literally scared to go to school and I started skipping school to hang out with a few local friends I had made. They all smoked and did drugs and I did what I had to do to blend in with them and their friends. It was around that time that I started to try using my mom’s makeup while I was home from school. My mom caught on and told me to stay out of her makeup and I left it at that. I don’t think either one of us wanted to discuss why I was using her makeup, we never spoke of it again. We eventually moved into a much bigger house down the street and I actually got my own space and with it some privacy. It was then that settled down in life and I got a little more comfortable exploring myself with my newfound privacy, but things soon changed when my dad almost caught me, I had skipped school and was fully dressed in one of my mom’s dresses and full makeup when I heard the front door open, it was dad, home for lunch. I panicked and dove into the shower and pulled the curtain, I was terrified of what dad would do to me if he found me, not at school, dressed in my mom’s clothes. He came right to the bathroom and thankfully didn’t find me as I quietly wept in the shower wearing my mom’s dress. It was at that moment that I decided to lock that side of me away with the rest of my pain. I had decided that I’m never going to be a woman and if I tried to it would just get me hurt or worse.

A year or so later we moved to South County and things were easier, I was silently making my way through high school trying not to make waves and stay out of trouble, which was significantly easier in the county schools. I was very depressed at this point in my life, I only had one or two friends and no one that I could truly open up too. My brother had dropped out of high school and had a ton of druggie friends and he was way closer to mom and dad than I was because he’d smoke pot with them, while I stayed in the basement hiding in my world of video games. I desperately wanted a girlfriend and like a lot of guys my age I was chasing a girl that couldn’t be less interested in me. She was closer to my brother and his group of friends, one night she came to our house drunk and she went to my brother for comfort, but he didn’t want to be bothered with her and he left her on the couch crying. Of course I went over to comfort her and soon we were alone in the basement as everyone followed my brother upstairs. It wasn’t long after that, that she kissed me. I was so happy, the girl of my dreams was finally seeing me and she knew how much I cared about her. I couldn’t have been more wrong, she became more forceful and started taking my clothes off, I was so wrapped up in the moment that I couldn’t see that she was just a drunk girl looking for what she thought she wanted. We had sex, I was a virgin and I was scared but I did it anyway, in the middle of it all she called out my brother’s name. At that point my whole world collapsed around me, in that moment I realized I made a horrible mistake. I immediately stopped and started dressing her and she just went back to crying, I kept telling her I was sorry and I tucked her into bed and I went upstairs and cried myself to sleep. She woke me up the next day, she had a solemn look on her face and looked at me and said “Did we…?” I nodded and said we should talk about what happened, we spent the next several hours apologizing to each other and decided to both move past it. I kills me to know that some of her friends were telling her that I raped her and at times I felt like I did. But thankfully she remembered enough to know that we were both willing participants at the time. She ended up dating my brother the next day and they were together for years afterwards.

It was then that I fell into a deep depression, I was tired of not being able to relate to anyone and I finally said fuck it! And I dropped out in my sophomore year and started using drugs so I could at least fit in with the rest of my family. This only lasted a few months before I realized that I was lying to myself. I didn’t like how drugs made me feel and I knew I didn’t really fit in, I was ashamed of myself. It was in that moment that I told myself “NO!” This is not who I am and I don’t have to be like the rest of them, I started studying to get my GED and quit using. A few months later I passed and got my GED. I really wasn’t happy with that so I went back to school for a special Diploma bound program so I could finish High School and actually be the only person in my family to graduate. I did and for once I felt pride, in myself and I think my dad was proud of me. At home things were not going as well, my family had went from weed, to coke, to meth and it was one big drug fest party all the time. I went back to my basement world and dove back into my videogames. I got a job at the movie theater and used that money to buy myself a modem for the Super Nintendo, it was my first “internet” experience and I was engrossed in that online world and I mad friends there. Right around that time my brother started to disappear for days at a time and when he was home he was crying and he could never open up about why. It felt familiar and I think I knew why, so one night I got him alone in the basement and I asked him to tell me what was going on, he burst into tears and said that I wouldn’t understand and that I’d hate him. I told him that I could never hate him and that he was my brother. I said “you’re gay aren’t you?” he stopped crying looked me in the eye and said “yes” and we hugged and cried together, I so knew how he felt but I knew I couldn’t tell him how I felt inside because there was no words for me to describe what I was. I wasn’t sure that even he would understand. Especially since I didn’t like guys, but I wanted to support him and I helped him come out to our parents, while I remained in the closet about my feelings.

My Brother coming out was a strange experience, my dad seemed totally shocked but handled it much different than I thought he would. My dad’s brother was also gay so the first thing he did was to call him and he invited a bunch of his family over to talk to my brother. I’ll never forget something my aunt said in that conversation, she said “we all thought it would be Jimbo!” She didn’t know how close she was. It wasn’t long after that that I met a girl online named Cynthia, we hit it off and we both we desperately searching for someone. We started calling each other and quickly developed a relationship, she was worried that I was going to have a problem with her being black and I assured her that I wasn’t like the rest of my family. Soon after she sent me a letter with her picture and I was so excited when I saw it, my mom not so much…. When I showed her she tossed the picture down and said “Not you too!” I was shocked but not surprised at the same time. Growing up it was totally common to hear the word Nigger, especially in Sikeston. When my dad saw he surprised me, he was happy, excited even. He said “I’m going to have grandbabies!” Shortly thereafter I decided that I was going to move in with Cyndy and her family in East Saint Louis as I desperately wanted a change of pace in my life. My parents fought me tooth and nail on this decision (mostly my mom) but I was 19 and not taking no for an answer. So I moved in with her family which was the complete opposite of my family, they were Christian, didn’t smoke, drink, and hung out together a lot. I learned so much about the lives of African Americans and just how prevalent systemic racism was in the world and just how privileged I was. It was quite an adjustment for me but they welcomed me into their home like I’ve always been a part of the family. It was quite an adjustment for me. It didn’t take me long to realize that Cyndy wanted to move out and live separate from her family, so I started looking for work in saint louis, I found a job and we got an apartment in south county and not long after that we got married.

For the next five years we quickly realized that our marriage was one of convenience, both of us just desperately wanted to get away from our families, so we made a poor decision that a lot of young couples make, we decided to have a baby to try to save our relationship. At this point I was the only one working so we were struggling financially. We honestly had no business having a child, but in spite of it all we did. In February of 2000 my son was born. He had a rough go of it from the get go, he was born with severe clubbed feet, and was jaundiced, as well as developing a hernia at only 3 weeks old. I made some poor financial choices and we had to move in with my parents for a few months and that strained our relationship further. Eventually we got a new apartment and we were getting the parenting thing down, everything changed when Alex started preschool. He was very violent and dropping him off was a very difficult experience, we came to find out that he was diagnosed with high functioning autism. It wasn’t long after this that Cyndy told me she wanted a divorce and I found out she had been talking to another guy online and she was in a relationship with him. I agreed that we didn’t need to be married but we should stay together for Alex’s sake. She was having none of that, and said that I needed to move out. This threw me back into a deep depression. I stopped grooming and I spent every minute I could away from her. It broke my heart how this affected my son.

It wasn’t long after that. That I met the girl I would eventually fall in love with. I was at a karaoke night at a bar I had never been too to meet a friend from work, he didn’t show and I was sitting alone at a table. Suddenly a guy from another table looked at me and asked if I was there alone, I said yes and they invited me over to sit with their group. It was there I met Stephanie, she was recently divorced and in a very similar boat to me, being that she was newly single and was drug out to this bar to try to meet people. We instantly hit it off and we were talking about our kids and our recently ended relationships. We laughed, and sang together and by the end of the night I was smiling ear to ear. When we said goodnight I was so giddy that I almost forgot to get her number. Thankfully she didn’t let that happen. She called me for a follow-up date the next day and we quickly fell deeply in love. She helped me to file for my divorce and eventually get full custody of my son when my ex tried to move away with him to Virginia to live with her internet boyfriend. In 2007 we were married. Steph was unlike anyone I ever known, she had a very strong dominant personality, she was an opera singer, had her own house, and had traveled all over the world. She helped me to develop a sense of self and pushed me to get out of my comfort zone and try new things. It was then I really started being comfortable being myself and I learned not to be so shy and to get out and meet people. With her help my tiny circle of friends quickly grew and I became more confident. Eventually we went on to start a social group that had monthly meet and greets and I developed a very bubbly social personality. I discovered how much I enjoyed helping other people like me to meet other friends like them and I watched many relationships blossom and found the joy that helping other people brought me. It was in this social group that I met Charlotte Sumtimes and somehow I stumbled into her world of burlesque and drag strip and through that I met a lot of transgender people. It opened my eyes to a world I never knew existed. There were people like me and they actually were changing themselves to reflect who they were on the inside. Even still I worried how making a decision like that would affect my marriage so I kept it buried, but somehow deep down I think Steph knew. Shortly thereafter my dad took ill and was nearing the end of his life, he and I both knew he didn’t have long. We talked and he apologized for not being a better parent. I told him that I forgive him and that there was no point holding onto regret. I’m so thankful that he and I had that talk and that I got to be by his side when he drew his last breath.

Sadly as I became more social Steph became more of a home body and we started to drift apart. Eventually for reasons I won’t get into out of respect for Steph, she decided that it would be in our best interest to end the relationship. I’ve never felt pain like I did when I realized it was over. That’s how I knew I didn’t know what love was before Stephanie and that losing that love is one of the most painful things that a person can experience. She did everything she could to make it easier for me. She paid for the divorce, signed her car over to me, and even paid the deposit on my new apartment. I will never forget her kindness in my dark time.

I fell into the deepest depression I’d ever felt, I felt so lost without her. Thankfully I had many new friends to help lift me up when I could not. I eventually decided to start therapy to help myself get over her. That therapy helped me to let go and become independent but something was still missing, something deep inside, like a quiet voice that I’d been ignoring for as long as I could remember. That side I’d I had pushed down and forced myself to forget about for so many years. I was seriously thinking of embracing the true me, nothing else was holding me back. I will never forget the moment that I made up my mind. My best friend made me her “man of honor” in her wedding. And I got to take part in all of the bridal party activities, wedding shows, mani pedis, and most importantly the wedding itself. I remember thinking how badly I wished that I had a beautiful dress like the other bridesmaids and just how happy that thought made me. So while on car ride with another good friend we were discussing a friend of ours that had decided to start their transition to a man. It was in that moment that it slipped out, I said “I’ve been thinking about that too…” there was a silence and my friend said “you’re thinking of transitioning?!” I said yes and started to cry. I voiced my concern that I felt weird that I didn’t like men and she reminded me that one of my other close friends a trans man was in a relationship with another man and that your gender identity and your sexual preference was two completely different things. I felt so relieved, the one thing holding me back finally made sense. So I decided to come out to a larger group of my friends, I had no doubt that they would accept me and I wasn’t wrong. Everyone rushed in to hug me and even started using female pronouns immediately. I started to call other people that were important to me and let them know. Everyone was supportive, it was amazing even my mom who admittedly did not understand said that she would support me no matter what.

The next day many of the same friends gathered for another dinner and we discussed my feelings more and we tried to figure out my new name. We went over many names that night but nothing was really resonating with me. That night after I went home a friend messaged me on Facebook to congratulate me and I told her that I was trying to figure out my new name. She told me that if she were to ever have a child that she always loved the name Ruby. Hearing that struck a chord within me and I knew at that moment I had a new name. Ruby

So one of the people I told was Charlotte Sumtimes and she asked if I’d like to come out on stage at Attitudes during her Kitty show, I said yes and the night of the show came around and I was super nervous. During a break in the show she brought me up on stage and announced me as a dear friend that has been there for her during many of her hard times and she talked about me calling her in tears with a confession and she said Now I’m going to let him tell you himself. So I took the microphone and nervously looked over the crowd and I said that I had decided to finally be true to myself and that I was starting the process to transition to female. The room erupted with cheers and applause and I saw Aiden Control the crowned King of pride that year in tears waiting to hug and congratulate me, then someone yelled out “what is your name” I said “Ruby” and was welcomed by another round of applause.

After that things moved so fast, so many of my friends were donating female clothes, money for my transition, and never ending support. I’ve never felt so much love in my life and it boggled my mind that it was for the one thing I thought that would end me if I were to reveal it. Then came the time I had to come out to my son. He was still in Virginia with his mom for the summer but I couldn’t wait for him to get home. I called him and told him and he responded in such a good way, he said “That’s great!” and he was happy for me. But a few days later I got quite a different phone call from him, he was in tears and he said I was changing to fast and he didn’t want to come home. Then he refused to talk to me, I was heartbroken and it didn’t make sense. It turns out that his mom had filled his head with nonsense. She told him that I wasn’t going to be the same person anymore and that he needed to stay with her, something I’ve become very used to with her. After a few days he finally messaged me and said that he was sorry and he was just scared. Once he came home and saw that everything was the same between us and he was happy again.

My life as a female moved right along after that, I started seeing my therapist as needed to physically start my transition, and started to dress the part full time, and I worked on going out in public and being comfortable with myself. It was then that Charlotte Sometimes contacted me to appear on her radio show The Gayborhood an LGBT talk show, to talk about my experience transitioning thus far. It went well and I had a great time. A few weeks later she contacted me again to ask if I’d like to be a permanent cohost on the show. I joyfully accepted and I became the Trans voice on the show. I was essentially transitioning on the air. I took my first treatment of hormones, talked about the process of legally changing my name to Ruby Victoria Threadgill, walked in heels for the first time, and even announce the legalization of gay marriage in Missouri on the air. Over the next few months on that show I gained quite the following. People that loved hearing my story and wanted to support me and other Trans people in the world. For the first time in my life I experienced what it was like to be popular, I had fans, it was so surreal. It was then that I realized that I could use this to help other people like me. I decided to start a LGBT support group called Generation Next that was focused on LGBT families and their children and how to foster better communication between parents and their children that are discovering themselves and coming out in today’s more accepting climate. I’m still in the process of getting this group off the ground today. In the meantime I spend my time sharing my story on Facebook for my followers with online segment’s like #askRubyTuesday’s where people can ask me any question about me and I’d answer, and #RidewithRuby a (mostly) daily video series where I cover different topics on my ride home from work, and a podcast called Chuck Tested Ruby Approved that I do with my good friend Charlotte Hayward (Chuck) and Bettie Labootie a local burlesque performer, in which we cover a lot of the same topics that we covered on the radio before the station went under.

[letteredcreation]

Dazed states and fake dates

Wolfstar (Remus x Sirius), ~4,500 words, muggle AU, no prominent war AU, Trans!Sirius, Asexual!Remus, Fake/pretend relationship, friends to lovers. //homophobic slurs and behaviour.// 

---

Remus was nervous. He had practically just placed an ad on a queer forum, asking for a fake boyfriend to help him come out to his homophobic childhood friends. He must sound weird. Nobody would ever go for this. At least, nobody in this area who was free on such short notice would want to.

He was wrong. 

Sure, nobody replied right away, but the day after, which was the morning before the “hang-out”, when he had pretty much given up hope, he got a reply. @doggystyle66 replied, “I’d love an opportunity to bash some homophobes :D where should we meet?”.

Remus was surprised, but he was happy to have found someone to help him come out (despite the awful username). It helped calm him, knowing he’d have someone by his side to help argue and make them uncomfortable (like they deserved). Remus told the guy to meet at a shop not too far away from the bowling hall where the hang-out would start so they could walk there together. He gave a quick fake backstory for their “relationship” and briefly described himself (tall, wearing a slim-fitting sweater despite the warm weather (not that he usually wore very slim fitting outfits but he was trying to push Gay in their face today), and wearing some light make-up (not very common for him that either really)). Having such little time and being who they were they managed to forget to exchange phone numbers and names, which is what led them to this particular situation.

Remus stood outside the shop they were meant to meet at, ten minutes early to their already early meeting time. He was wearing the tightest sweater and jeans he had (still not extremely tight), and had put on a little mascara, pink lipstick, and light blush. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, but he didn’t have too much experience with coming out to people, and he was basically going to meet people who were likely to argue and be uncomfortable and hate him for it. How was he supposed to feel?

Before he could ponder it any more a voice from his side said “fuck, how’d you manage to put on make-up before leaving without me noticing? And how come you didn’t tell us you’re gonna meet homophobic childhood friends!? Any of us would’ve been thrilled to pretend to be your boyfriend and bash those assholes!”

Sirius had first approached Remus, meaning to just say hi before finding the stranger he was meeting, but then he had seen the make-up on Remus’ face and noticed the tightness of his clothes. He had stopped, then, because Remus in make-up I’m gonna die! and Sirius had double checked that Remus fit the description he had received. Sirius had to take a deep breath and calm his heart before approaching his beautiful friend and crush.

Remus had turned, startled, at the sudden voice, and was now letting loose an inner stream of swear words. It was Sirius. Sirius was his fake boyfriend for the day. Sirius, his roommate, friend, and long-time crush, was going to pretend to be his boyfriend. How would he survive this?

“Err… Hi?” Smooth, Remus, smooth.

“Hello, moony, mind telling me why you kept this from me? I thought we were friends!” And there was the over-dramatic person Remus knew (and loved just a little too much).

“I didn’t want to worry you,” Remus replied, sheepish. “And… I kind of wanted to do this on my own.” He considered bringing up that they were more fake boyfriends than just friends now, but decided against it. He didn’t want to bring that up yet.

Sirius’ expression softened. “Then why did you go looking for a fake boyfriend to accompany you?”

Remus groaned. “I don’t know! And I’m starting to regret it!”

“Nonsense, we’re going to be the best boyfriends and we’re gonna kill these homophobes!” Sirius exclaimed, throwing an arm up and around Remus, only adding “Metaphorically, of course,” as an afterthought.

So, seeing he had no choice and they were soon going to be late, Remus set his shoulders and prepared himself for pretending to be the boyfriend of the one person he wanted to be his boyfriend. Turning toward the bowling hall he let Sirius’ hand slip from his shoulders but twined his fingers with his instead, starting to walk toward their destination, ignoring the frantically happy butterflies in his stomach as his hand was squeezed by Sirius’.

Sirius grinned. “That’s the spirit!” And then he started skipping down the street, Remus half way jogging to keep up.

As they entered the bowling hall Remus was tempted to back out, to release his hand from Sirius’s and not come out to his friends at all. But he pushed against it, tightened his grip on Sirius’ hand and walked toward where he saw his childhood friends standing in a group.

As they neared them, they started noticing Remus. One of them waved and grinned. Then, as they came closer, he saw their entwined fingers and stared.  Remus waved hesitatingly.

“Er, hi, Remus,” said one of them, somewhat uncomfortable but nice enough about it. The others, however…

“Wait, you’re a faggot?”

“What the fuck?”

“You’ve got a boyfriend?”

They were incredulous, some sounded betrayed, others grossed out, and some just stood there uncomfortably. Remus froze, but Sirius didn’t. Maybe because he was so used to slurs and insults from his family, or maybe because he was happy to be passing so easily as a guy, even when trying to look more feminine to give an extra strong image of Stereotypical Gay. Maybe it was also that he didn’t know these people, they hadn’t been his friends. He was still furious, of course, but it didn’t get to him as easily.

Regardless, he managed to say something and stand up for them both. “Hello, nice to meet you too,” he said pointedly. “And, to answer one of your more respectful questions, yes he does have a boyfriend. What about you?”

The other boys stared (including Remus), and the one who had asked the last question spluttered. “Have I got a boyfriend? No, I don’t, thanks, I’m not a fucking poof!”

“Too bad, I love meeting fellow gays!” That seemed to get Remus back the ability to speak.

Coughing a little first, Remus said, “Er, right, anyway, hello! This is Sirius,” and then Remus introduced the others in the group to Sirius.

They went to start the bowling then, despite the tense atmosphere. Every time Sirius and Remus did something even remotely romantic to each other or even hinted at anything LGBTQ+ related, the others would look uncomfortable or grossed out. This, of course, only helped increase their determination. That was not the only reason, though, as they were both enjoying the increased casual touches and sweet words a bit too much. It was torture and bliss at the same time. They were both in love with the other (not that they had realized it was that deep until they couldn’t get enough of the romance, despite it being pretend), and so every touch made them crave more and long for their relationship to be real.

They had been bowling for a few rounds, Remus being absolute shit with his sweaty hands and racing heart from the regular good-luck-kisses on the cheek he would get from Sirius before it was his turn. Sirius, however, was on fire, scoring Strike after Strike.

They were sitting beside each other now, holding hands and somewhat leaning on each other, both unaware of the other’s blush and increased pulse at the contact. One of the other guys were throwing his bowling balls, and the rest were sitting on a sofa a little way over. They seemed to think Remus and Sirius couldn’t hear any of what they said, and couldn’t see the looks they were sending them. To be fair, they couldn’t hear everything, but they could hear enough. Remus’ childhood friends were, once again, expressing their disgust with “the queers”.

Sirius and Remus were trying not to get affected, trying to pretend they didn’t hear what was being said. Instead, they moved even closer to each other, Sirius throwing a leg over Remus’ lap. They were starting to get happier the more homophobic remarks the others made as it gave them an excuse to be more romantic with each other. They had kissed each other on the cheek and forehead multiple times, were constantly holding hands or wrapping their arms around each other, and calling each other “babe” and “darling”.

“I’m just glad they haven’t snogged or kissed much yet. I mean, imagine that!” the disgusted voice came from the other group of boys, and they were all pulling appalled faces. There it was, the one thing they had not yet done, that they had somewhat tried to avoid, partly because they wanted their first kiss to be real, and partly because they didn’t know if they could control themselves if they went that far. This comment, though, threw that out the window for Remus.

“They think we’re gross?” Sirius reached to say with a roll of his eyes, before Remus stopped him from continuing by smashing their lips together and wrapping his hands around Sirius’ neck. Remus’ hands entwined in Sirius’ long hair as their lips started moving together. Sirius froze at first, too surprised, but then his eyes fluttered shut and he relaxed into the kiss. He tentatively pushed out his tongue and when Remus groaned deliciously in response and opened his mouth to him, a hot coil of pleasure shot down to Sirius’ stomach. They both sank into the kiss, tongues moving together and hands exploring. Sirius put his hands on Remus’ waist and pulled him closer before moving his hands up to wrap around Remus’ back. Remus’ hands twined through Sirius’ hair and tried his best to deepen the kiss as much as possible, pressing himself to Sirius’ body. They both released small pleased sounds as their tongues pushed and pulled, dancing with each other.

It was messy and desperate and perfect. Absolutely amazing.

They were ignorant to the ones around them, too wrapped up in their own world, despite the surrounding loud sounds of dismay and disgust. Finally, they broke off for air and were bombarded with sound again. Pulling apart as they realised what they had done, they looked away from each other’s blushing faces and looked around them. As they looked up, one of the more loudly homophobic of the boys came over.

“Sorry, but we can’t deal with this anymore. You’ve gotta leave, you’re being disgusting and this is a public space. We don’t wanna be friends with faggots.” The boy sneered.

Remus, however, was still on such a high after the kiss that he simply got up, smiled, and said, “good, I don’t want to be friends with douchebags.” Remus grabbed his things, took Sirius’ hand and stalked out of there with a dazed Sirius in tow.

As they got out Remus continued walking quickly down the street, trying to calm his racing heart and mind. He was too wrapped up in himself he forgot to release Sirius’ hand - not that any of them minded. Sirius was not back to himself enough to even think about it until they were half way down the street.

“Well, that was fun,” Sirius said, a little too brightly, as they went around a corner and Sirius had finally got back his personality. That finally got Remus back to earth too. He suddenly stopped, looked down and quickly released Sirius’ hand.

“Er, yes, um, thanks by the way,” Remus said, still staring at where their hands had been clasped together.

“No problem.” Sirius frowned, but tried to keep the confusion from his voice. He had started getting hope that maybe Remus liked him back after all, but his current behaviour was rather contradictory.

Remus schooled his features and forced himself away from thoughts of how Sirius might like him back, the kiss had made it seem so but he couldn’t be sure and he had to be sure before revealing his feelings to Sirius. He had to analyse the day, analyse Sirius’ behaviour, he needed some time away from Sirius to consider they day’s events. So, he pretended like everything in the bowling hall had been purely for show, and looked up at Sirius. “I need to go to the library, so I’ll see you later in the dorm, ok?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he started turning to go toward the library.

“Um, ok,” Sirius said, even more confused and annoyed. Had he thought wrong? Had he imagined Remus’ moans and enthusiasm? Could Remus really just have been that keen on showing off to his childhood “friends”?

Letting out a frustrated groan, Sirius turned on his heel and made his way back to the dorm.

In the library, Remus worked. Maybe he should have worked on actual assignments from school, but how could he focus on that when there had finally been more solid evidence that Sirius might like him back?

So, he worked to figure out what Sirius had most likely been thinking at all times of the day. He wrote down typical Sirius behaviour, how he had seemed to react to people he had liked in the past, what other situations he had acted similarly in… and so on.

In the end, he was still unsure of what to think of Sirius’ dazed state after the kiss. Remus was very glad he had managed to notice that, as it seemed an important detail. The thing was, Remus had never seen Sirius so dazed and subdued in his life! So, was that a positive thing or not? All the times Remus had seen Sirius angry or confused or sad, even, he had been talking non-stop, or looking like he was going to burst if he didn’t get to talk about it or throw things around. When he had been happy he had also been constantly wanting to talk, but it still somehow seemed the most likely option. Remus could not think of any reason Sirius would be sad, mad, disgusted, or confused enough to react in this way. Remus had seen Sirius very much all of those before, yet never seen him react this way. Happy, however… sure, Sirius was often expressing happy emotions, but happy without a single negative emotion lurking in the back? That never seemed to be the case. This was understandable as well, to Remus, considering Sirius came from such a horrible family and had gone through so much in his life already. Sirius’ facial expression after their kiss had also looked quite positive, and like there was only one thing on his mind (for once).

Therefore, Remus was quite sure - not completely, but quite - that Sirius had reacted very positively to their kiss. This, of course, led to the conclusion that it was actually quite likely that Sirius liked Remus back, romantically. The thought made Remus’ heart beat faster, it made him anxious to test out this new hypothesis. To be fair, he probably should have tested it much sooner, but it had been too risky. Now, when the chance seemed higher, it outweighed the chance of his own feelings being revealed and rejected.

The problem was, Remus was not exactly the most skilled flirter. He did not have much experience with these kinds of situations. But he was willing to try. How hard could it be?

Very hard indeed, it turned out.

How was he supposed to say smooth and flirty sentences when his heart started beating faster just from seeing Sirius? It hadn’t been this bad before the kiss, before the increased chance of reciprocation. Now, whenever he came close to Sirius, Remus would become awkward (more than usual, anyway) and stutter.

Remus had not realised that this was an obvious sign that he liked Sirius. Fortunately (or maybe more unfortunately) Sirius did not realise this either. So came a time where everyone around them were even more blatantly reminded that the two boys were crushing hard on the other without realizing it was mutual.

After some attempts at getting himself to flirt with Sirius, Remus decided that this was not a way that could work for him. He was not ready to confess his feelings straight out, but he had read about other methods to find out whether it might be mutual. He would try to seem interested in other people and see how Sirius reacted. He also felt practicing his flirting on other people might be a good idea to get more comfortable with it so he could try it on Sirius again. He would still try to flirt with Sirius, though, he hadn’t given up on that.

What Remus didn’t realize was how cruel and confusing it would feel for Sirius.

This went on for several days: Remus quite successfully flirting with other people than Sirius, Sirius becoming increasingly frustrated with Remus’ awkwardness around him and sudden flirting with others. One morning, over two weeks since the day in the bowling hall, Remus actually managed to flirt with Sirius. It was not very well done, or how he intended to flirt at all, but it was something.

Remus had been lying on his bed trying to figure out the best way to get himself to flirt with Sirius without just giving it all away. He had been trying extra lately to just say something that might be at least some form of subtle flirting. So far, he had managed nothing. This fateful morning, however, changed everything. Just as Remus had been on his way over to Sirius’ bed to finally say something, only to realise Sirius wasn’t there, Sirius had come out from the showers, wearing only a t-shirt and a towel. This was when Remus had managed to get words out. Somehow, those words were “You look sexy,” and Remus wanted to facepalm himself. Hard. With a rock. Several times.

Remus was asexual, for God’s sake, his idea of “sexy” was different from most other people’s, and yet he had just managed to call his crush sexy. Unluckily, Sirius knew Remus was asexual and was probably somewhat confused at Remus’ wording. On the other hand, this meant Sirius might at have understood that Remus was not, actually, referring to sexual attraction. That did not stop the other part of why Remus wanted aliens to kidnap him right in that moment. Remus had just blatantly stated that he found Sirius attractive. Even if he had said something more associated with sexual attraction, it still had an undeniable meaning behind it.

Remus closed his eyes and leaned his forehead (rather harshly) against the closest bedpost (which was Sirius’), while Sirius blinked rapidly, replayed the words a million times in his head, tried to calm his increasing heartbeat, and felt like he died on the spot. Sirius had always been so confident and good with romance, but as soon as Remus said or did something romantic, he was Dead. It had happened when they had kissed, and it was happening now. Not as strongly this time, it was only a few words compared to a heated kiss, but he still felt as if he had no control over himself.

“Fuuuuuuck,” whispered Remus, and Sirius was back - somewhat at least. Sirius wanted to have control over himself, and speaking was a sign of that, but he might have chosen to speak a little too soon.

“I thought you weren’t interested in that?” Remus’ head snapped up.

Brilliant, Sirius, just fucking brilliant. He wished he had managed to say something more complimentary in response, something to show he was interested too (at least if that was what Remus had meant by it, Sirius could never tell these days).

“I’m not,” Remus replied automatically. He didn’t manage to say anything more, though, he didn’t know what he could say.

“Then what did you mean by it?” They both knew Sirius wasn’t talking about the whispered swear. Sirius knew the question might sound harsh, but hadn’t been able to keep it in. He demanded answers, he needed to know what Remus meant by all the confusing signs from the past weeks.

“I, er, well,” Remus started, so very eloquently. Then, because he suddenly felt all hope was lost anyway, and because he just couldn’t keep up how he’d been going the past weeks, he said the truth. “I just meant I think you look good, er, handsome? Beautiful, attractive, gorgeous? Well, all of those, really.” Remus scratched his neck and looked down. He couldn’t meet Sirius’ gaze right then. “Um, so, yeah, I like you, fancy you, whatever. Er, I have for quite a while… bye.” He couldn’t stay there anymore. He had just confessed in the least attractive and understandable way Remus could think of! So, he ran. He hurried out the door to their dorm and down the stairs, groaning as he went. What had he done?

Sirius was left dazed once again and he cursed his inability to do anything when Remus did stuff like this. His brain had turned to mush! How could it!? These thoughts only came several seconds after Remus had disappeared through the door. Only after several more moments were he able to control himself enough to move, to actually go after Remus. He had not, however, thought any further than “Go after Remus and kiss him again”, and so he left his dorm in only a t-shirt, a towel around his shoulders, and boxers under the towel around his hips.

He hurried down the steps and out into the common room, scanning the area for Remus and not noticing anything else. When he didn’t see him, he did as was typical of his dramatic self, and bellowed “Crisis! Emergency! Where did Remus Lupin go? I repeat, where is Remus Lupin?” The people nearest to him winced at the volume, but most of the others didn’t bother giving him much attention. They were all too used to Sirius’ outbursts and loudness.

James, however, grinned and came over. “Hey, padfoot, why d'you need to know where Remus is? What happened between you two?” His smile was mischievous, like he knew something Sirius didn’t and was planning to do something with it. Sirius narrowed his eyes at James.

“I’ll tell you later but right now I need to find him!”

“I can see you’re in a hurry,” he looked pointedly at Sirius’ “outfit”. “But can I at least come? If you’re about to finally confess your feelings to each other I want to be there!”

“You knew? Jesus, no, prongs, you may not come, and Remus already confessed his feelings which is why I need to find him!” Shit, how loud had he just been talking?

Never mind, there were more important things to take care of.

“He did? Merlin, why did he leave if you feel the same way?”

“Because I didn’t reach to tell him that! Now tell me where he went!”

James sighed. “He went out in the hall, but he didn’t tell me where!” As if he were the most frustrated by the news.

Sirius groaned. “Why didn’t you just tell me that? I need to find him! Bye, prongs!” Sirius went, ignoring James’ protests.

When Sirius came out in the hall he had to stop and consider. Where would Remus have gone? The library was most likely, but outside was also a quite possible place. He decided to start with the library. And so he was running again.

They weren’t supposed to run in the halls, but Sirius and James had never cared, and people had gotten used to it. He made it to the library and quickly made his way to the hidden corners, but found no Remus.

He continued running.

After searching several hiding places inside and then some outside despite the rain (Sirius knew Remus rather liked rain and so it wouldn’t stop him from going outside), he finally found Remus. He was by the lake, on the other side to what was closest to the school.

Remus was sitting on a large rock, his face turned upward, letting the heavy drops splatter and roll down his face and throat. The water made his skin glisten, his hair flatten against his head, except for a few curls popping up. His jeans were clinging to his legs and Sirius had to swallow thickly at the entire sight of him. This was ok, though, because Sirius had learned to live with the beautiful sight of his roommate. That didn’t mean he loved it any less, his brain just didn’t turn to mush at the sight like it did if Remus did something romantic.

“You’re quite gorgeous yourself, you know,” Sirius started with. He wanted to call him sexy but wasn’t sure if Remus would be comfortable with being called such a sexually charged word. Sirius was completely fine and respecting of Remus’ asexuality, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t sexually attracted to him.

At Sirius’ words, Remus’ head jerked and his eyes opened with several blinks to get the rainwater away. He looked at Sirius. Had he really just called him gorgeous? That meant another strong evidence that the attraction was mutual, and so Remus’ confidence grew. His secrets were out there, he had been setting his mind on Doom and getting used to the idea of an awkward friendship with Sirius and a life with unrequited love. Therefore, this was fine, Remus didn’t get extremely nervous. So, for once being quite smooth, he quirked his eyebrow and smiled. “Is that so?”

Fuck, Sirius had not anticipated this. Remus had been a bumbling mess back in the dorm, how could he act to smooth now? He still managed to get his head to nod, though. And, when his mouth wouldn’t cooperate, he forced his legs to. He climbed onto the boulder and sat beside Remus, facing him in the rain. Not daring to stop moving once he had started, he moved slowly forward and flicked his eyes down to Remus’ tempting lips. He tried to flick his eyes back up to Remus’ eyes, but the lips were just too perfect. They looked so soft and pink and just perfectly kissable. Before Sirius could get himself to look up again and make sure Remus was on board with his idea, lips crashed onto his.

Remus had lunged forward as soon as he was certain of Sirius’ intentions. He was sick of waiting. He needed to feel Sirius’ lips on his again, feel how soft and yet strong they were as they moved against each other. Remus moved closer and twined one hand in Sirius’ beautiful curls (oh, how he’d missed the silky feeling of the strands against his fingers) and placed one hand on his waist, drawing him closer. And closer he came willingly. Sirius was more than happy to have Remus’ mouth on his own, their tongues quickly finding the other’s and moving, exploring as much as they could. One of them, or both, moaned and it didn’t matter who. Sirius’ hands moved, one on Remus’ neck and one on his hip.

As Sirius went to move even closer, bending forward to kiss down Remus’ neck, his towel came loose and he pulled away. Sirius was in a daze, heaving for air, but he had become protective of not showing off his nether regions, so he got himself to wrap the (now more wet again) towel around his hips.

When he looked up, Remus was smiling at him, pure happiness and understanding shining in his eyes.

They shared one last lingering perfect kiss that left their bodies - and especially lips - tingling, before they went up to the dorms again, hand in hand.

[nonbinary-nature-lover-jeri]

Coming Out To All My Facebook Friends 

A week ago I decided to come out to all my friends on Facebook even prodding to see if I got a reply from people I wasn't sure of. This is the letter followed by observations about the response:

Dear Friends,

As most of you know in late Summer of 2014 I began a gender journey. All my life I had felt insecure about my gender. There were a number of opportunities earlier in my life to look at my own gender identity. In the second half of my Junior year in high school at Pine Tree Academy I boarded with a local dentist and his wife. They had a daughter a few years older than me in college where she stayed in a dorm. As the dentist and his wife worked I often had a couple hours every now and then when I was alone. I discovered the daughters wardrobe or at least the part she left at home. I tried the clothes on and remember feeling that this was more than simple curiosity. Meanwhile at school there were a couple bullies who had made comments and shoved me when they knew no one could see them. At the end of the year I passed around my yearbook for signatures. Two of the entries were quite hateful. One used "gay" as an insult and the other called me a "faggot." So come Senior year I made it a point to butch it up a bit, (appear more masculine), to avoid the bullying.

After graduation I left for college at Atlantic Union College in Massachusetts. In my first year there I met up with 3 or 4 gay guys. One of them was gender non-conforming, I became friends with him and had chats with him in the dorm stairwells where we found a measure of privacy. One memorable night he even took me and a couple others to a gay club. This was the fall of 1975 and my young mind was just overwhelmed by the experience. We continued to share secrets and concerns with each other. I came out as being attracted to guys and he shared both some of his exciting weekend encounters and his sadness at not being able to reconcile his sexual orientation with the church's beliefs. Soon Winter break came and we went in different directions. As the break ended I was informed of something pretty horrific. My flamboyant gay friend had committed suicide. I was scared, sad, confused and determined to keep my secrets hidden which I did until 1987.

I came out as gay in February of 1987, thirty years ago. I quickly got involved with the community. I began working with people with HIV/AIDS (PWA), devising outreach programs and assisting PWAs secure services and support. During that time I heard a sermon at the Unitarian Universalist Church by a guest preacher who ran the denomination's LGBT Program. He quoted Harry Hay, an early gay rights pioneer and founder of The Radical Faerie movement. What he said really struck a cord because his belief was that gay and lesbian people were different then straight people not just in the choice of sexual partners but also in our gender expression. The belief was that people like me were shamans, magicians and priests who stood between men and women and helped heal stresses and misunderstandings between men and women. I thought that I had found the answer.

During this time I got to know several transgender individuals beginning in the late '80s. They were for the most part trans women and while I didn't feel completely like a man, I didn't feel completely like a woman either. So, while I felt an affinity with my trans friends back then, their gender identity didn't match up with how I was feeling. By this time I had entered a relationship which became quite well known given our willingness to open up to the press. In an effort to be attractive to my partner who like hairy guys known as "bears" in gay subculture, I grew a beard stopped trimming hair off my body and became a bear, at least on the outside. I really grew to hate how I was frequently read - many presumed I was hyper masculine and probably into leather and S&M. I was really repulsed by that idea. I kept this a secret and our relationship weathered lots of challenges that came our way unitil August of 1996. On that date, for several different reasons, my partner and I changed our relationship from partner to close friend.

In 1996 I came to New Mexico and continued to work in HIV/AIDS work, focusing on prevention. As a way of deflecting presumptions about my masculinity I grew my hair out and declared myself a fairy bear which sometimes morphed into a "care bear." I got to know some wonderful Trans people here and learned a lot from them, particularly a couple Dine'/Navajo trans women who shared the ancient wisdom passed down by their elders about genders beyond male and female.

By 2009 my disabilities, symptoms and medication side effects made it difficult to work. Eventually I was declared disabled and left work. I began searching the internet for information that would answer the lifelong confusion I had about my gender. I began to see talk of genderqueer individuals. At first it didn't click with me because all I observed were individuals who were assigned female at birth. Finally a news story changed everything. I happened on a news story about a hate crime that occurred in California. I've shared the story many times so I will just lay out the facts. A high school student who identified as agender, (who had been assigned male at birth), was riding home on a bus and had nodded off to sleep. A boy sitting nearby who thought it would be a practical joke to set the person's skirt on fire. The agender student sustained serious burns on his legs and their story, (many agender individuals prefer people use a singular version of they as their pronoun), made local and national news. In response the community rallied round them. The high school the agender individual attended had an event where most students and teachers in the school wore skirts for a day to show their support. Other schools and groups honored diversity and showed their support in other ways. This story, particularly the explication of what an agender and genderqueer person was, really meant something special to me.

I continued to explore, I came out as trans/agender on my blog. I will not rewrite what I already have in my blog. If you haven't read it leave a comment and I'll give you a link. After this gender journey I'd been taking on my own I felt the need to connect with others. I discovered a trans support group here in Santa Fe and went to my first meeting. I wasn't sure I'd be accepted but that fear soon left as I was warmly welcomed. Soon I became involved in the group and helped out with a website and a Twiiter account. I also help facilitate meetings now and then. I have met so many wonderful trans men, trans women and nonbinary/genderqueer individuals. I have learned from their stories and continued to engage in self reflection.

I am very grateful to all the people I have met on my journey. Everyone of you has played a part in my life and your kindness and knowledge have been very important. I now identify as a trans femme, agender, nonbinary/genderqueer person, but if it's easier for you to remember you can call me transgender.

I am part of the trans community, a community that is now under siege. I consider the trans community as a very large extended family. When a black trans woman is murdered it breaks my heart, when someone is bullied and tormented so often they consider suicide I am deeply saddened. I also am dismayed that some on the right have reduced our community to mythological bathroom predators. I want my trans men and trans women friends to be free to use the facility that aligns with their gender identity and I, along with other nonbinary trans people want to have a gender neutral restroom available. Just like you all we want to do is take care of business, wash our hands and leave. We've been doing this for years without a problem. It's simply a fact that after losing the marriage equality battle the religious right aimed their sights on trans folk. A mythology was created and occasional incidents involving cis men were woven into the tale. I promise you we aren't putting ourselves in further danger by lingering in the bathroom one second longer than necessary. It's trans people that are the victims in some bathrooms. Bullies in schools are on the lookout for anyone who isn't their idea of normal. So it's trans students, gay and lesbian students and gender non-conforming cis students who get verbally and physically attacked. This needs to end now! I am proud to be a member of the trans community. This community has changed my life and made it meaningful again. If you don't understand, that's okay. Ask questions, read up on who we are and remain our friend. On the other hand, if you don't understand and refuse to learn and open your heart then, regrettably, I can no longer remain friends. I am too old to deal with negativity! I faced enough of it earlier in my life. As for my wonderful friends, family of choice, biological family and fellow activists who accept me and my community I thank you from the bottom of my heart ❤️!

Hugs, Jerry/Jeri

After this post began to receive likes and kind comments I was moved to respond. Here is that response with the names removed

I am feeling so blessed and overwhelmed with gratitude at the response to this post. Three of my friends, from way back, during my years in Norridgewock, Maine from 13 - 16 years old. Your simple "likes" were so moving for me. It shows you may not understand all I've shared but your willing to try. You'll never know how much that means to me and the literal tears of gratitude I've shared. Thank you so much! I was also moved by the "like" from my high school classmate at Pine Tree Academy. A time filled with both wonder and joy as well as internal turmoil I didn't show anyone.

And... my friends from my college era who left comments or "liked" this post. I'm so overwhelmed by their memories, their acceptance and/or their willingness to understand, even if it's with some trepidation. This means so much.

Then there are all friends who knew me during my gay/AIDS activist 🏳️‍🌈 era your acceptance means the world to me. Finally my new trans family 🦄 who've welcomed me with open arms, gave me encouragement and advice and support and love ❤️ your literal and virtual embrace have sustained me during the last two and a half years. Thanks so much. Finally my two unwitting fairy godmothers, your inspiration means more to me than either of you will ever know. I owe you so much and I will try and pass it on by being an inspiration and activist in our community. Before I end I should acknowledge my friend and dare I say apprentice, we embarked on our new journey together and I wish you all the best life has to offer. I may have missed someone, if I have I'm sorry but know your friendship is gratefully accepted. To all thanks🙏🏼, hugs🤗, love❤️and unicorns🦄!!