#anyways though on the hrt part

[veganhamsalad]

[AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH]

[tinystepsforward]

ngl it makes me want to die a little bit that it's so often trans people who feel that sex is mutable but oppression is always-forever based on asab in ways that allow them to demand that information from other trans people. like it feels fucking bad. it feels bad when it's people holding up someone who posts a lot of selfies as transition goals to a degree they have to clarify what they have or haven't done or what "direction" they're going in, it feels worse when people are out there like "caster semenya is not tma" or whatever the fuck. i am, as always, not a trans woman, but here's a sentiment echoed by many of the trans women around me who log the fuck off, quoted directly from one: "people who draw a clear line where they say that semenya or khelif are tme and then call me tma are just calling me male at this point".

like i get it. i really do. we seek community and shared experiences, and we feel betrayed when people have less in common with us than we thought they did. [*more on this later.] but that's not those people's faults and my god in the case i'm seeing play out on twitter rn this poor person did absolutely nothing to intentionally mislead people, just posted pictures of their actual kid self. who looks a lot like i did, because shockingly enough "we can always tell" doesn't fucking work for trans people either!

on the one hand i move in intersex circles which are unapologetically welcoming in cis "dyadic" people with pcos, because it serves nobody to draw a clear line where mutilation or genetics or some ineffable childhood suffering are what make somebody intersex, especially when most of us (esp in places like nz) have never been karyotyped and are being treated for symptoms without a pinned-down cause anyway. the more of us there are the stronger we are, the more pressure we can exert on a medical profession which doesn't like to consider how common outliers are, how uneasy sex is at all. and then on the other hand there's dyadic trans people on the internet who've yelled me out of spaces because a couple of traumatised incarcerated trans women i worked with as a prison abolitionist assumed i was also a trans woman and i didn't immediately tell them my entire csa-involved history of being sexed in varying ways as an infant and child and/or exactly how big my phallus was at birth or where in my junk config my urethra lives so they could decide i was tme or whatever.

returning to the * for a related but not identical thought: i think presuming shared experiences leads to some fucked shit in general! "oh we all had a radfem phase" or "oh we all were channers" no we fucking weren't and it's particularly obnoxious when me & mine are trying to build trans community locally to organise and resist the growing wave of far-right backlash against our existence, and there's just white people in there on a spectrum from "straight up being antisemitic and trying to get the n-word pass" through "handwringing about how they need to make space for people who aren't politically correct" to "handwringing about how brown people are right to be mad at them but doing shit fuckall". and then the other fucking brown people in the space are on some identity politics shit where they're like "trans joy inherently excludes those of us who could get deported" or "big city white queers are killing us by being visible instead of going stealth bc it stirs up the discourse" or whatever the fuck i've heard pulled out this year. there's a bunch of reasons i primarily organise outside of trans spaces and that's one of them. i've never felt more alone in spaces where people claim we're all the same than being left as the brownest moderator or organiser in a space full of people to whom "this is a safe trans space" apparently means they get to abdicate all other responsibilities not to lapse into presumed shared patterns that are fucking racist or otherwise alienating. i've never felt more alone than surrounded by exclusively trans people who sort people into boxes and assume everyone in those boxes has the transition goals they have. like i was on cypro until it disagreed with me to the point of endocrine crisis and now i'm on t and at both those points people were so fucking presumptive or entitled to my reasons or journey or personal relationship w my body

literally just submitted on (and was invited to consult on) the nz law commission's review of the human rights act and like. it's straight up fucked how many nz trans people fully do not comprehend that any "sex assigned at birth" type definitions fundamentally exclude migrants who have no way of proving it and many intersex people who happen to have been reassigned later or many times or never assigned at all as a baby. we can't make law with this shit and that's why we have to have symmetrical protections for all genders/sexes/expressions/presentations, bc naming and defining a protected class here often leaves the people who already are left out from those shared experiences of marginalisation out in the cold when they face violence

[canisonicscrewyou]

people on t /etc who feel that their facial hair is too light for their liking: just for men is not a difficult product to use and is like $15 and comes in many shades and is worth trying, just get or steal a spoolie brush too, don't use the brush they give you. brown mascara or eyebrow gel is also wonderful. (<- even to test run before dyeing, but either of those options will also make the hair look slightly less fine too.) even if you think your facial hair is too patchy to try or your mustache is too fine or whatever. trust me. trust me.

[reticent-fate]

part 11/26ish

anyone remember those scales with the springs in 'em? all i ever see these days are digital scales but those things made the best noises. i think i've seen some kitchen scales that still use spring mechanisms, but it's been a while.

technology is weird.

from the beginning

[yutaan]

I can't believe I have to ask this with my own mouth and type this with my own two hands but.... will you ever drop the rita+dio heights 👀?!?!? Honestly I'm jk because they have that mechafiction thing going on so it's nice to leave it up to imagination but I'm just tickled pink the way you refer to him as tiny or 'comparatively' small. Rather than an actual height, is Dio small compared to the average person or just his super cool and adoring, amazing and loving tall gf Rita? From the mash up drawings I've seen, Dio is always the smallest person on the page :3 I love a confident little man in charge so I adore Dio and Rita and their dynamic <3 The caption about him being in distress because his gf was out of shot in distress had me cracking up lolol

Darlingest anon I cackled SO hard when I got this ask; thank you for being interested in my motorcycle kids!! And you are in luck: Even though I usually don’t get too fussed about how tall characters are, this is the one project I have where I did work out out everybody's heights. If you don't want to know exact answers, I'll just say that Dio is, in fact, Tiny specifically when compared to Rita. He's of pretty average height! Even a little taller than average! She's just QUITE tall.

And if you do want the exact measurements, Dio is 5'5 (and a half)! Rita is 6’3 in her bio body and 6’4 in her mechanical proxy body so next to her he simply looks like a bean rather than a beanpole. AND the rest of the main cast actually ALSO skews quite tall so he just… appears short most of the time. He doesn’t mind! It's rad! His girlfriend is tall and amazing and can lift him up with one arm and he is THRILLED about it.

Rita and Dio are in their late teens in the main part of the story, so it’s possible they both could still grow slightly? They’ve pretty much reached their full adult heights, though; it would be a very minor difference.

[mechahero]

//Design brain going off means silly what if powerup again.

[transgymbro]

While I have thoughts about the election that I haven't quite been able to put into words yet, I've seen a lot of misconceptions that "if DIY HRT is so easy for gymbros to get, it must be easy for trans men too!" and "Just go up to a gymbro and ask for his T!"

As the "trans gym bro" blog, I feel like I have to be the one to say

NO. IT IS NOT THAT SIMPLE.

First of all, because T is a regulated substance, it is hard for gymbros to get as well. That means even if they DID use T, they would NOT be sharing.

Secondly, there's "natty" culture. For those who aren't in the know "natty" is short for "natural". Being "natty" means you got your gains without the use of testosterone or steroids. There are those of the mindset "if you're not natty whatever, just disclose", but there are also those who look down on the idea of not being natty. Not to mention a lot of these gymbros strongly discourage the use of T in their circles because of the negative effects (namely the aromatization of T into E) of too much T. Basically, not every gymbro uses T, many actively discourage it, and those that do use T are likely hiding it.

Third, very few people are going to just bring their T into a locker room. Partially because of the previous point, but also because the locker room is just unsanitary, often don't have a proper disposal bin for sharps, and/or because the gym bans the use of steroids (sometimes needles I think?) entirely (this may not stop everyone but it's at least a deterrent).

Fourth, and very importantly, a large number of gymbros are transphobic. This varies from ignorant to actively malicious, and you never know which one you're going to get. To be fair, not every single gymbro is transphobic, but there is a large enough portion of them that are, such that you would be at substantial risk if you outed yourself to one. No transmasc in their right mind is going to risk outing themselves to someone who hates you AND is jacked as fuck.

There are other things preventing those who want testosterone HRT from accessing it also, such as doctors refusing to prescribe it to an AFAB person because "you'll ruin your body" reasons, those gymbros being a big part of the reason why T is a controlled substance, as well as it just being unsafe to use someone else's vial of T.

The point is though, we DO need resources for DIY T, ESPECIALLY in the current political climate in the US. Do NOT fucking ignore us because you refuse to acknowledge that not every gymbro is going to fit whatever idea of them you have in your head.

Anyway. I have to hit legs now.

[plaidos]

I'm in a long term relationship with a trans woman who's been mostly closeted and pre-everything for most of the years we've been together but she's now on E and thriving. A big part of what helped her finally feel comfortable to start HRT was of course being in a more supportive environment with me and our friends/chosen family but also specifically me buying her gender-affirming fem clothes, gaffs, padded bras, etc so she could present as a woman more easily and feel more comfortable with herself. I'm really honored to have been a part of that and to be able to support her and I'm so so glad to see how much happier she is now that she's living true to the way she wants to 💗

Turns out though uh. I seem to have developed a kink for dressing her up. And she's developed one for being dressed up. So now I can just buy her whatever hot outfits I want and she'll just. Wear them for me. She gets more gender affirming clothes and we BOTH get sex, literally a win-win situation. And the dress up doll play has even helped her go from being comptop (before we started dating & very early on) to realizing that she was a pillow princess, which makes me really happy for her 💖 I love spoiling her so much

I don't know how to end this but anyway we're living the dream here 👍 hope you're having a good day

i need you to know that this may as well be ripped directly from a trans girl’s diary in how closely it reflects the pre-transition trans girl sexual zeitgeist. i am so happy that you two found each other. this is legitimately a lot of people on this website’s dream lol like as a teenager i would lie awake at night wishing somebody would whisk me off my feet and do exactly this to me. please have a fantastic rest of your lives together. consider naming your kids after me.

[kooki914]

Nobody asked and yet you're getting it anyway, my Dess interpretation! Tbf I love a lot of other people's Dess designs maybe more than my own based on complexity/symbology alone, but this is what my original take for her was so I'm sticking to it. Extremely long list of factoids for her under the cut!

Dess hasn't seen a hairbrush in 8 years.

Opening her first fountain was an accident, and so was entering the dark world, but it was something she desperately needed at that point. She was knighted by Spade King, before being dubbed the Roaring Knight by the general public after she opened the second fountain and people started (correctly) assuming she was trying to cause the apocalypse.

Dess is mtf trans! She was out since she was 9, and took puberty blockers for a while, but stopped after she disappeared because she, y'know, didn't have access to them anymore. Strangely, even though she's been off of them for so long, there's very few side effects. You can just see her Adam's apple sometimes and muscle mass started building for her easily, but that's it. She's silently grateful that her dad didn't pass down any beard-making genes.

The reason why it's been so mild is due in part because of the effect of being in the "void" for too long, aka the space so dark and isolated you can't even feel your own limbs. She was stuck in the code of the game, basically, and it's had adverse effects on her mentally and physically, the only positive effect being less testosterone production in her body.

The physical effects are odd. Though she's grown and her body's age is what it would've been if she never disappeared, she's still in the same clothes she was when she ran away, but they sized up with her. The black nail polish she had on is still there too, not even chipped. As previously mentioned, her hormones are out of whack but, somehow, she's still clearly a grown adult, as if she just went through a very, very mild puberty.

The mental effects of being stranded in the literal nothingness are as expected as they are odd. The standard effects of not having contact with another person for so long have, somehow, never taken hold. It's like the social part of her brain was just put on pause. However, part of the madness she DID get was her very much considering her memories might just be made up. As if she was always here and managed to, somehow, delude herself into thinking she had a life outside of this place, when she never did. Essentially, she stopped existing, but retained some level of consciousness.

The whole "not existing for a while" thing as well as the fact that she's pre-hrt trans means she absolutely hates mirrors. Give her a mirror and she'll give back about a hundred shards of it. When she was younger she usually just had dysphoria over looking too boyish (hence why she never cut her hair) but nowadays she has weird feelings about something as simple as Having Knees (the existential horror of having a body after being formless in the nothingness during your formative years).

Her journey as the Knight was mostly about rediscovering herself, trying to find purpose and trying to help the people around her. She spent her whole life feeling helpless, and wanted to destroy that feeling, for everyone. Her violent behavior was rewarded by the equally maladjusted Spade King, and they teamed up under the pretense of helping all of darkner kind.

Dess set out to cause the Roaring, per his instruction, without knowing what it even was. All she knew is that, apparently, she was the only one who could, and that gave her a sense of purpose. Once she learned it'd bring about the end of the world, she was so detached from the world that she carried on anyway, not concerned with the life that could be lost because, god, she spent so long outside it, how COULD she know what life was worth now?

Dess went by neutral pronouns (they/it) as the Knight because it was another mask she used to distance what she Knew of herself and what she Had to be (kind of like Asriel calling himself "Flowey" in Undertale, actually). Being called "her" was too familiarising and humanising, being called "he" made her break out into hives and start killing, so she stuck with the alternatives for utilitarian reasons. Somewhere along the way she got sick of it and started missing her feminine pronouns, but decided to just stick to the bit anyway. The world was gonna end soon anyhow, who cares?

Once she's out of the role of Knight and back in the light world, you bet your ass she's switching back to exclusively she/her. Fuck neutrality, this girl needs gender affirmative language.

Rediscovering music, and specifically playing and making music, was one of the things that helped Dess get back in touch with being a person again after the whole Knight debacle. She plays piano and harmonica of her own volition, and the violin because of her mom's insistence, but her true favourite will always be the guitar. She was a little small as a kid so playing it used to be difficult, but now that she's an adult having it in her lap is easy, and honestly it just makes her feel alive. One of those dreams she had as a kid that she forgot about along the way, y'know?

Her and Asriel were just family friends at first, but when they ended up going to the same class together too, they quickly became best friends. They were there for each other through everything, Dess got Asriel into games, he was there when she came out, and they were practically inseparable. Asriel was a hard worker and Dess was a super active sports kid, they balanced each other out well and were known as the highest achievers in their class, the golden kids.

Kris and Noelle got dragged into their adventures basically on accident, Noelle because Dess was the one babysitting her all the time, and Kris because they wanted to spend time with their brother. They often spent time outside together because Dess loved being anywhere but at home. She didn't mind Azzy's house, though. Kris was a lot to deal with sometimes and Dess scolded them in a lot of the same ways adults scolded her (minus the hitting them over the head with stuff, what was all her). She has no idea the impact she's had on their behavior.

She was always kind of violent, but when she was younger it wasn't really an issue, more like an excuse to get her into sports. She learned to act out because causing problems was the only context in which she'd get attention from her very busy parents. With Noelle specifically, Dess took on a semi-parental role and quickly developed a habit of taking on way more burdens than she could handle. Even with Asriel as a best friend and the Dreemurrs as a surrogate family, the control her mother Clarice commanded over her life was just too limiting. It all boiled over.

Dess started lashing out at other kids around when puberty hit, starting fights and genuinely hurting people. She never got expelled because her mother was the mayor, but Dess started getting grounded more and more often, which meant less and less time with her only real friend, and more with her very dysfunctional family. She loved Noelle, but her little sister became another responsibility, another liability that could get Dess in trouble, it was way too much for her to handle maturely when she was only 13.

Dess "disappeared" because she ran away from home. She hated living there, but neither of her parents could admit that, hence her disappearance being so "mysterious" to the other townsfolk, they genuinely thought she vanished from inside the house. It was only after Kris admitted they saw her in the woods near the bunker that night that the case got more complicated, and the legend only grew more terrifying.

Her original plan was to just catch a bus to out of town and hope for the best, but when she ran into the woods in pitch blackness, she couldn't find her way around. She was too reliant on light, and couldn't manage in darkness. She found the bunker in her aimless wandering and, hoping to sleep off the night and make up excuses in the morning, she went inside. She couldn't have known that nothing was in there.

The effects of her sudden disappearance rippled throughout the whole town. Most obviously, Asgore got fired for not being able to find her and Rudy quit his job to be a stay at home dad for Noelle's sake. Less tangibly, Asriel and Clarice both started burying themselves in work to avoid grief. Kris and Noelle socially shut down for a few years, it's why neither of them have any real friends other than the strained relationship they have with each other. Asriel took on Dess' habit of "be anywhere but home" when his parents started having marital problems, and Kris latched onto him even harder to avoid losing any more people in their life. Through all this, Dess was nowhere, silently wondering if anyone even noticed she's gone, if her life was even real to begin with.

One of the strange things that happened to her while stranded in nothingness was almost being able to hear someone mumbling to themselves. When she called out, the voice vanished, only to re-emerge an uncertain amount of time later and excuse himself for getting startled. He just doesn't get guests often, you see. And guests get him even more rarely. It was refreshing to hear a consciousness separate from her own, but his mind was even more broken than hers, unable to answer her questions about what was real and what was imagined as he seemed to think he himself was a product of unreality. Plus, he never really stayed for too long and he never wanted to talk about himself either, as if mentioning his own name could shatter him to pieces.

The reason Dess didn't lose her mind from to his influence like Jevil and Spamton did was because she's just fundamentally pragmatic. You can throw philosophy and existential questions at her all you want but as long as she talks and thinks, she exists, which means reality is Something, even if it's completely eluding her grasp. It might also have something to do with her being a (homestuck warning) Void player, meaning the idea of the innate meaninglessness of life and unanswerable questions about reality itself don't really sound earth-shattering to her.

She used her knife to open fountains at first, the one she brought with her from the light world, but along the way she picked up a rapier and decided it was way cooler than a knife so it's her go-to now. She's not actually that good with swords, though. She uses them like baseball bats. Despite this, Spade King still praises her as if she's the best warrior they've seen in generations. It might've gone to her head.

Her relationship with King is fundamentally a mentor and a student. He gave her flawed information, but taught her a lot about herself, the world she found herself in, and the role she could choose. And, that's the most important part, he let her CHOOSE, because he was genuinely under the impression that she was just a really powerful darkner and not a lightner. His strictness and high standards reminded her of her parents, mostly her mom, but his willingness to give HER control over her own destiny is what made her favour him over every other adult in her life. Discipline that treated her like a valued person rather than an asset was basically unheard of for her until then. Plus, reminding her of her parents gave Spade the bonus of every time he encouraged her on anything it'd activate the "parental approval" neurons in her brain that were terribly starved up to that point.

From Spade's point of view, the Knight (as a darkner) is everything he wants to be, but can't be. At first he mentored her mostly as an excuse to live vicariously through her, but in getting to know her better he discovered they have a lot more in common than he first thought. Unregulated emotions, unresolved pasts, the constant feeling that you need to do More and Louder in order to make any kind of impact... he started to genuinely care about her. If/when he's redeemed, finding out the Knight has been a lightner this whole time might not even be that much of a betrayal. Seeing her face and learning her name as she apologies for lying is like reconnecting with his own wounded, younger self. Letting it be water under the bridge means he doesn't lose connection to himself again, doesn't lose connection with his best student. Plus, December IS a nice name.

She met Lancer, but didn't pay him much mind. She was busy with overthrowing the other Kings and was too tired to be a babysitter again. Due to her rancid vibes as the Knight (and the fact that she quickly became the favoured child even though it wasn't her intention) Lancer doesn't like her that much. She left Card Kingdom pretty quickly, anyway (Spade's advice to seek another worthy kingdom to grant a fountain to), so she never got much of a chance to get to know him, even if she wanted to.

Her relationship with Queen is even more fraught. Due to Queen's tendency to mimic the "mother" personality for every lightner she meets individually, as well as her more Explicitly Controlling tendencies, Dess quickly became rebellious and then antagonistic towards her. Queen tried to choose FOR her, to get her to open fountains on HER terms, and Dess wasn't having it. Yes, following Queen's instructions would've caused the Roaring much, MUCH sooner, but, like. Not at ALL in a satisfying way.

She has no idea who Gaster is. When asked, she'll assume he's a Darkner. If asked about the man in the nothingness, she'll shrug it off. Now that she's out, she doesn't know if he's actually real or something she just made up in her head, though she laughs that off as well. "I sound a lot like him when saying that, huh?"

Learning Asriel goes to college is complete whiplash for her. Her sense of time is WRECKED. Like, yeah, she can wrap her head around Noelle and Kris being teens now, but ASRIEL??? What do you MEAN he's not still stressing over chemistry exams and cramming for spanish class, and is, like, actually studying something he's interested in???? Unheard of.

She makes fun of him SO much for his little beard stubble, dude. It's all in good fun, but like, you can only be called "mini Asgore" so many times by your childhood best friend before it starts to cut deeper. On the flipside he has literally nothing bad to say to her. She nearly caused the apocalypse, but like, he gets it. He would've done the same in her shoes (hooves??). He thinks her Dark World armour is so kickass and he could never pull it off like she can.

Unsurprisingly Asriel has a crush on Dess. He always kinda had one, even when they were kids, but reconnecting as adults just Fully bashed him over the head with the fact that he's had repressed feelings for her and he has NO idea what to do about it. He's anxiety incarnate and thinks Dess already KNOWS he has a crush on her and just isn't saying anything because she's playing it cool, or doesn't wanna hurt his feelings, or thinks he's too lame to date or something. He thinks she's the coolest person who ever lived and has no idea how to cope.

Meanwhile in reality, Dess is a clueless aro/ace. She doesn't really know what having a crush even means. She thinks being a couple is, like, flirting and fighting behind closed doors (you can tell the only couples she knew personally were her parents and Asriel's parents), so she thinks it's just exhausting and doesn't know why anyone bothers. When Noelle tells her she has a crush on Susie Dess is like "Hell yeah, love is love........ wait do you mean you like her or you want her to crush you with a boulder" and Noelle sweats for a while before replying with "b-both?"

Dess has never been to Castletown. Most likely will never go.

Her and Kris reconnecting is a bit awkward at first, mostly on account of the fact that Kris and their posse are the ones that had her bash her over the head as the Knight to get her to behave in the first place, but Dess doesn't really focus on that. Kris thinks they hurt her, she just thinks of them as a little hero. Susie kinda helps facilitate them talking like people again, at least at first, because she has no baggage with Dess other than hitting her with an ax over dark fountains and getting stabbed in return, but like... Out of all the people they fought Dess is the only one who actually said sorry for being a jackass, so it's all good in Susie's book. Kris is just happy to have Dess back, man, that bunker and their memory of it has been haunting them for entirely too long, now.

Like Kris and Asriel, Dess learned how to play piano in church. Unlike them, and unlike Noelle, Dess has actually become fully agnostic after her time in the void. If there IS an angel looking out for her, it certainly isn't one that could've helped her, so what's the point of worship? Plus, Asriel and Noelle are two angels looking out for her as is! Why add divinity to that? (I am extremely subtle, I know.)

To this day, she's still apologising to Asgore for getting him fired. He is still apologising for not being able to find her. It's a pity party.

No-one tell her parents but she smokes weed. Once she reformed from being the Knight, she had a lot on her mind, man, weed is the most harmless thing she could've taken to cope. Seam is a good dealer, they have the good stuff.

She's absolutely called King "dad" by accident before. He doesn't really mind. No-one tell Rudy though, he's gonna be pissed.

On that note, I feel the need to add that she was never as close to him as Noelle was, because he only really started being an active parent after Dess went missing. It's kinda tragic, and he feels REALLY guilty about it, but if he ever verbalises that guilt he's gonna actually crumble into dust. His confidence is all a mask as is, actually admitting that he was kind of garbage at being a dad with his first kid is just gonna make it so much worse. But, until Dess hears an apology, she's not really gonna be able to actually mend their relationship, so they're at an impasse.

Inversely, her time away from the light world kinda made Dess forget the way her mother acts. She sorta got a bit of "once away from the abuser you forget the abuse", especially knowing she herself was a kid when it all happened so she kinda started justifying her mother's actions to herself when away from her. After like 2 weeks of living with her again Dess fully remembers why she ran away and packs her bags to live literally anywhere else. Preferably with King if that's an option, though that might just make Lancer move out as well.

She doesn't know what minecraft is.

[vincentbriggs]

Hello! Transfem person here. I haven't started HRT yet, but want to procure a 1730s menswear suit (actually decided based on your video). I would prefer not to wait for it if possible, since I don't know when HRT is going to be possible. I am, however, a little concerned about my bust size changing and affecting the fit of the waistcoat. Is that decade usually pretty forgiving in it's tailoring? I am also considering having the upper back tie like some later waistcoats to accommodate if necessary (even if it's not entirely historical), but I figured I would ask you.

Thank you!

Hello! Ooh yay! Not enough people do early 18th century, so I'm delighted to hear that! (Link to the 1730's suit mentioned.)

I think the fit would be affected, yeah. The sides of the waistcoat are easy enough to let out (and we have extant examples of waistcoats with an extra strip of fabric added into the side seam) but the curve of the front is pretty important to how it sits on you. But then, it is fashionable in that era to leave quite a lot of the top portion unbuttoned, so maaaybe you could get away with it not fitting as well, depending on what changed and how much?

Regarding the adjustability of waistcoats, some of the earlier ones actually do have lacing in the back! This red one is an especially nice example, and it's separate all the way to the top.

(c. 1740's, V&A) (Though you also do see ones with the back hacked up and a bunch of ties that were likely added by Victorians for their fancy dress parties.)

The breeches also have adjustable waistbands, of course, so I think the hardest part to alter would be the coat. The back vent is edge to edge, so there's no overlap to sneak a bit more width out of, and letting out the side seams would require re-doing those massive pleats, which were the part I found the most difficult when making my coat. But fortunately those coats were worn open a lot of the time, so even if they're not quite right when buttoned, they should still look ok unbuttoned.

It's very difficult to predict how the fit will be affected, since HRT is different for everyone and things keep changing years down the line. (One comment on this post talks about suddenly getting more breast and hip growth after 7, 12, and 14 years.)

I only have experience from the transmasc side of things, and alas, I very much did outgrow all my old waistcoats and coats. My 1730's suit needs alterations, because the waistcoat is a bit too small, and the coat seams could use a bit of letting out too. (I made those the year after top surgery, but my ribcage kept expanding and my posture improving for quite a while.)

I've been putting it off because alterations are boring :/ My pre-top surgery waistcoats are all way too small across the chest even though material was removed, because my posture was kinda bad and I didn't even notice it, and I expect that the opposite could also lead to the same sort of better posture from more confidence & comfort.

But bodies keep changing forever anyways, even without transitioning. Plenty of cis people can't fit into the things they sewed when they were younger, so we may as well make things to fit us now. Perhaps you could make the suit now, but use a not-too-expensive fabric, and then maybe alter it later, or make a newer and better one with the experience you gained from the first one!

Also I know you specifically said menswear suit, but I want to add the fun fact that women's riding habits in this era looked extremely similar to men's suits!

(Left: Maria Amalia von Habsburg by Franz Joseph Winter, right: Member of the Van der Mersch Family by Cornelis Troost.)

As far as I can tell, the main differences are that the riding habits have a petticoat instead of breeches, and are made to fit over stays.

(Empress Elisabeth Christine in riding costume, unknown artist.)

So similar, in fact, that this portrait of a young lady in a riding habit was misidentified as a young man!

Most of the petticoat is out of frame, but you can still see that it's not beeches, and the stays shape is pretty obvious. Very silly of Sotheby's not to notice!

I have no idea if you're interested in wearing a riding habit, and I'm not sure how difficult it would be to alter the somewhat looser men's coat to fit over stays, but thought I ought to mention it.

[foone]

This is not about Star Trek

Ok so there's a TNG episode I can't remember the name of. It's got one of those boring one world titles like "evolution" or "disaster" and fundamentally it's about the cool scifi idea of "what if enterprise get computer virus?"

Which was a cool futuristic idea in the 80s when it was made, becauee computer viruses were a new and exciting idea then. Anyway. Towards the end of the episode Picard, Data, and Worf are down on the planet what gave the enterprise the virus. There's a stargate thing going on in the room, where it cycles through a bunch of different destinations, like the enterprise, the hostile romulan warbird, and distant planets.

Data gets zapped. He tells Picard how to set the self destruct, and Picard tells Worf to carry Data through the stargate when it shows the Enterprise, so Data can get fixed.

Now Picard is alone, with the self destruct computer. He sets it up to explode so it'll stop trying to virus the enterprise, but time is ticking down. The place is gonna blow, and the stargate hasn't cycled around to the enterprise yet. He jumps though it anywhere, figuring that the place he's currently in is about to become a smoking crater, and basically anywhere else is preferable!

That choice he makes, the "fuck it, I don't care where I end up, so long as it's not fucking here"?

That's exactly how I feel about humanity.

I'm not hugely picky, to be honest. That's a big part of why I don't have a fursona, despite being a big ol' furry: I can't decide on wanting to be a specific kind of animal as honestly I'd take anything. I could spend years getting art commissioned of a cool deergal or sheepboy or cowthing, and if someone was like "hey I got some experimental new Wolf HRT" I'll punch them in the face and down the whole bottle.

And it's not just about animals either. Give me robot bodies and pure software uploads and ascension to pure energy and plants and fungi and plasma-based stellar parasites and things that can't even exist in this reality because our physical laws are incompatible.

I don't have a destination in mind because I'm not planning a vacation. I'm planning a jail break. I don't need to arrive somewhere, I need to escape here.

Please someone smuggle me a file in a cake. I need to get through these bars.

[transbianmuffin]

Memories pt. 3

cw manipulation but we all know she wants to be a pet, also two queer flirting and a hint of gaslighting

********

this thing is huge, and it's almost nonsensical, so much complexity so incredibly decorated so alienating?

"This is...incredible..."

"This, dear, is Opicala. The main Affini ship overseeing Jupiter."

"How? How? It's..."

"Huge? Fantastic? I know you tend to struggle with words." "Majestic!" "Haha, yes majestic is a nice one to describe it." "..." "I know, I know, most of sophonts don't comprehend the grandeur of Affini's architecture." wait those two affini have people? on a leash? what the hell? I've heard about domestication but I thought it was mostly reducing them to zombies and those guys are making out? they seem so happy so carefree what is happening and why why why I- I like it? No I don't want to be a slave I want peace not being a slave again "But I guess you're not looking at the architecture, don't you?" "Those people, collared, on a leash. Are your slaves? Is this what's gonna happen to me?"

they seem so happy, their eyes filled with bliss their mouths drooling each other's saliva and they seem no to care about a thing which is not their own tongues twitching and swirling "Slaves? Dirt, no! Absolutely not. My dear, those are pets. Domesticated sophonts, and we love our pets so much." "I was told that you enslaved people, keeping them drugged and compliant and used them as your servitude or to do menial work for your empire..." "The rebel propaganda really got you there, my beautiful terran. No, not at all. Well, they are drugged most of the times. That part is true, but I can assure you they really like it. As you did, a couple of days ago when we had our first chat." "What will be of me?" "Well, techinically you'd have been sent to forced domestication since you are a rebel. It is also true, though, that you did what you did and that would make you a defector. In addition to that you surrendered without any resistance and moreover you gave us some very useful intel." "So?" "So, my dear, I filed a special plead for you. You won't be assigned to forced domestication. You will stay here for a while and then we will drop you wherever you like on Jupiter. Lastly, we will grant you the status of 'independent terran', unless..." "U- unless?" "Unless you'd actually want to stay and be a pet, my dear. Oh you would be the cutest of them all. You'd have to either pick or be picked by an owner and you will live forever in care and bliss." oh god oh god a pet? would I be a good pet? I mean those two earlier seemed to be happy but maybe there were only high as fuck but being a pet seems so nice

"An owner, like you?" "Ah, you're saying this, not me~" "I- I don't know." "There is another little thing I forgot to mention." "Now you're scaring me." "Good, you will learn to fear the giant plant girl which work consists mainly in interrogating and inflicting terrible tortures to rebels." "...Sinea..." "Just kidding, just kidding! Look at your face, stars you are so damn cute! Anyway, I saw from your medical report that you were under special medications for HRT, am I correct?" "Y-yes." "Well I think it is worth mentioning that the meds you were taking are nothing more than candies compared to our Class G. Which is basically the same thing but way more advanced and effective." "Oh..."

is she lying? maybe she wants to drug me again but maybe I can trust her, she's been so kind with me and advanced HRT is a dream come true

"Am I picking your interest there?" "Y-yes." "Of course this is not to convince you at all. I am just saying that here you will be loved in a way you have never experienced. You are free to go whenever. Just say a place on Jupiter and we'll drop you there instantly, Deena." "I need some time. I am tired and it's a lot to process." "That's perfectly understandable, little one. Want me to carry you?" "..." "Stars, when you give me those puppy eyes I- I simply can't! Come on. Here." "Those pets."

god they seemed so happy I was envious? jealous? yes that's the word

"Those pets, yes." "Those pets." "Yes those were pets. Do you have any specific consideration you want to make here or are you simply stating a matter of fact, my dear?" "They seemed so happy. Their kisses so blissful, their minds overwhelmed with joy and passion." "Florets usually do that. Here they are safe, protected, free to explore their true self, their true nature. Nobody judges them and the joy you saw in their eyes was certaintly shared by their respective owners."

"I would like to talk to one of them, if possible." "I have a better idea. There will be a little social gathering among florets later, their owners will be there but they won't interfere too much in their interactions. While I am not still your owner, I am your temporary ward so I can vouch for you. There you can talk to any of them and maybe even do something more than talking~" "S- still?"

what does she mean with still? still? she wants me to be her pet? what?

"Uh?" "You said you are not still my owner." "No, no my dear you must have misheard. I said that I am not your owner, which is true. I mean I could be your owner if that's what you want but the choice is yours and only yours."

maybe I misheard? I am sure she said that but I'm also tired and the feeling of her vines around me are so beautifully distracting

"I- I think I'm sure of what i've heard?" "Aw darling~ you are so tired, sometimes it happens to misheard stuff when we are tired. Misheard or projecting. Anyway, would you like to go to the floret's gathering?" "Maybe you're right. I am really tired but yes, Sinea, I'd love to go." "Very well, but first I must to inform you that I won't let my ward take part in a social event without some glowing up. You still smell of surgical sanitizer and your dress is unacceptable. I have a reputation." "Sure..." "That's my good girl. We will go at mine, have a bath, some grooming and I'll provide you with something suitable to wear."

hehe good girl~ wait a second a bath, a dress? what am I a doll? but I don't want to make her feel bad at the gathering I guess I can see how it goes

********

[tigergirltail]

TIGER HRT CHAPTER 4 - MONTH 3 - GROWING PAINS

First - Prev - Next

Everything hurts.

I started noticing it about two weeks after my first dose. It felt like a dull headache at first, but over the next month it spread to pretty much my entire body.

I had to start working from home, and eventually it got bad enough that I could only put in a few hours of work each day. My boss is a reasonable enough guy, but he wasn't going to pay a full time salary for part time hours, so I had to take a salary cut.

Luckily, my partner is around to take care of daily errands, not to mention being there to reassure and comfort me when the pain gets bad. They've been thinking about seeing if Lindwurm HRT is a thing, but they don't want to get the process started until I'm in the clear and can take care of myself again.

Gods I love them.

The reason the pain is happening, as best I can tell, is that my skeletal structure is already changing. I've gotten at least an inch taller, and my face has been reshaping into a feline muzzle. My teeth are getting sharper, and I'm developing proper fangs. I also noticed a little while ago that my fingernails and toenails had receded into their respective digits, which sucks for two reasons - I can't paint fingernails I don't have, and they are sore as HELL when I put any amount of pressure on them. I have to be REALLY careful with how I type to not inflict agony on myself. I'm also feeling my tail growing in, and even if it hurts, it's euphoric as HELL. A tail was always the part I wanted most out of this.

It's weird, the skeletal changes weren't supposed to happen this early. I've been trying to reach Dr. Erian about it, but he's constantly busy, probably because of the sudden surge of people looking for Humanity Removal Therapy.

Other than that, I've been getting areas of white and black fur coming in - mostly on my arms and legs, but a little bit on my face and ears - ears that are gradually reshaping and migrating. Nothing to report on hearing sensitivity, but I think my night vision is getting better.

I did a little bit of looking around for anyone with similar pain experiences. I got my hopes up when I found a girl, Antonina, who had a painful experience with Cat HRT, but it turns out it's because she took the rumoured Fifteen Minute version. She described the pain as "like bathing in an active volcano".

It leaves me wondering whether I would have preferred a 15-minute lava bath over a months-long full-body headache.

I ended up reaching out to her anyway, just because I wanted to know what I was in for in the endgame and feline HRT is rarer than I thought it would be. Sounds like the prey drive is the real deal - she keeps feeling the urge to bite this one girl who's on mouse HRT.

We've been spending some time comparing notes and getting to know each other. It's nice to know someone else who's going through this thing, even if our experiences aren't exactly one-to-one.

I also talked to my mother for the first time in nearly a year. I went No Contact with her a while back because she was only getting more obnoxious and combative about me being trans, but I figured changing my species is a big enough deal that I should keep her in the loop.

Besides, my savings had nearly dried up and I needed to ask her for money.

It… did not go well. She hadn't heard of therian HRT before, and once I explained it, she started panicking about how I'm "mutilating my body" with "untested treatments". I think I also heard her cry something about how her "son" is "killing himself", which is just multiple layers of insensitive.

At least she sent me some money. Hopefully it'll be enough to last until my transformation stops being agonizing and I can go back to work, and then I can go right back to pretending my family doesn't exist.

At roughly the three-month mark, I have a check-in video call with Dr. Erian. From the moment his face appears on screen, though, I can tell something is wrong. He seems… older, somehow.

"Hello, Miss Alexis.", he offers. He sounds tired. Sorrowful, even.

"Hey, doc." I have to ask about it. "Everything okay? You seem a bit tired."

"Nothing to worry about Miss Alexis, just the ordinary stresses of daily life."

Liar. I know I'm not entitled to details of your personal life, much less your professional secrets, but I know when something is eating at someone.

"…Does the word 'crossroads' mean anything to you, Miss Alexis?"

Huh? That came a bit out of left field. "I've… heard some other therian HRT patients use the term, but I don't know much of the details. Something about a point of no return?"

"Something of the sort." He lowers his head and seems to go from sorrowful to downright grim. "There will come a time, Miss Alexis, when you will have to make a very important decision in your care, and I ask that you do so with great consideration for the consequences."

I recoil a little in my seat. "Yeah… Of course I will. Any decision I make, even reaching out to you in the first place, I don't take it lightly."

"Good… That's good." His demeanor shifts back to his stoic, clinical self. I don't know what just happened, but he went somewhere for a moment there.

"Now then, I did receive your messages, I apologize for not getting back to you. You mentioned you were experiencing persistent and debilitating whole-body soreness?"

"Yeah. I can't even leave the apartment most days, it hurts so much."

"Odd… You are taking the treatment as directed, yes?"

"Of course. One tablespoon a week, just like it says on the bottle."

I see his eyes twitch behind his glasses. Did I say something wrong?

"…Teaspoon."

I cock my head to the side. "Say again?"

"You mean one TEASPOON a week, yes?"

I feel my heart sink. The dark smear on the dosage information… I could have sworn it said '1 tbsp/week'.

"…Could you hold on a second please?" I mute the mic and call out to my partner to bring the bottle of tiger HRT over. When they do, I unmute and hold it up to the webcam. I hear Dr. Erian take a sharp intake of breath as he notices the obscured instructions.

I set the bottle aside and the two of us share an awkward silence.

"So…", I begin. "…How bad is it?"

"The good news", he offers slowly, "is that you have only been taking three times the prescribed dose. An increased dose imbalances the growth rate of the different parts of your body, hence your pain and persistent weakness, but it could have been much worse."

I think back to the so-called Fifteen Minute version, and Antonina's description of it - like bathing in an active volcano.

Dr. Erian continues. "Assuming you return to a CORRECT dose, your growth rates will gradually level out over the course of the next month or so. It is my medical opinion that you should maintain a low-activity lifestyle until then, but you will eventually be able to return to your typical activity level, and you will also find that the physical effects become more… consistent."

"That's… reassuring. Thank you, doctor." I pause. Something I noticed a little while ago has been weighing on my mind. "There's one thing, though - do the treatments have… I guess you'd call them restorative or regenerative effects? I've noticed some old wounds aren't there anymore."

The doctor clicks his pen and brings up his notepad. "Interesting. Do go on, Miss Alexis."

"Well… I used to get lower back pain from a car crash injury I got a little over a year ago, but I haven't noticed it at all lately. Pretty much the only part that DOESN'T hurt… There also used to be some marks on my arm from a cat biting me when I was little." I give a slight smile. "The cat's name was Tiger, go figure."

Dr. Erian is writing the whole time I'm talking. "Yes, that is to be expected. Minor persistent injuries will fade over time as your body re-forms itself to a new baseline, even severe chronic symptoms may fade. If there are no other concerns…"

"Just one… Most of the other therian HRT patients I've talked to have gotten their meds as pills, so what's with the potion bottle?"

Dr. Erian pauses, and adjusts his glasses nervously, as if he's been caught out on something he doesn't want to admit to. "Well… advances in the field are occurring rapidly, and you are one of the more recent patients, so a more… streamlined option was available to you. I took the liberty of choosing the most compatible option based on your medical records, and that bottle is it."

"Okay… But what's IN it?"

"The active ingredients are antihominidone, which is your humanity-blocker, and a specialized formula of felistrogen, infused with white tiger genetic material. The rest of the fluid is a suspension used to dilute the effects, without which you would be looking at a short, but excruciating and potentially lethal process."

The Fifteen Minute version, I think to myself. I'm taking diluted Fifteen Minute meds. There's no WAY this isn't experimental, and I'M the experiment. I despise saying it, but maybe my mother was right to worry.

"But I'm afraid I really do have to go, Miss Alexis, my next appointment is waiting."

"G-gotcha. See ya, doctor."

---

Special thanks to @paintedbytosia for letting me write her in, and shoutout to @megamoonerjenny for coming up with 'antihominidone'

[mint-and-authoress]

Slime HRT - Progress Report II

<<| ⏯️ |>>

[The video opens with a familiar bedroom setup from previous recordings. In the top right corner a timestamp of ‘10 Weeks’ is shown.]

“Okay, ten weeks. We’re ten freaking weeks into this. I’m honestly really excited for this update actually because…”

[Elise stands back a few feet and rolls up her sleeves to reveal her arms. The skin has shifted from translucent to transparent, and the musculature is present underneath, a mix of bluish-gray and red.]

“Skin’s gone! …Well, not gone gone, but it’s totally cleared up! It’s all see-through now, and that means the muscle’s gonna go next. Which I’m a little nervous about.

“Yeah… that last bit at the end of the first video was my dad kinda outing me on his own because I didn’t have a chance to cover up. And that’s kinda led to this Transspecies Cold War that I’ve been forced to take part in for like… 3 weeks now? Luckily my mother is oblivious to all this so I’ve managed to skirt around that volcanic eruption. Dad hasn’t said a word to me, though, which is a bit weird, but I’m honestly fine with not talking to him. Freeing, in a sense.

“Anyway, important things first! In terms of my transition timeline, I’m actually a little ahead of schedule! Which, don’t get me wrong, it’s really exciting to experience this stuff and confirm it’s all really happening, but also kinda puts a bit of a wrench into my plans. Some gunk in the cogs, I don’t know. I’ve been trying to use more slime puns, but I’m not sure if it’s for me.”

[Elise stares off for a second before snapping back to reality.]

“...Right, the wrench. Problem. Whatever it was. Right, my job! I’m a bit worried about how long I’ll be able to keep working, seeing as though I’m gonna basically have muscular dystrophy advancing throughout my body at a rapid rate. I don’t do a ton of heavy lifting, at most I’d struggle with lifting mannequins but we barely do that. Mostly just hanging clothes and gettin stuff hung up.

“My skin, or my surface now, I guess, is a bit stickier now? From what I can tell, the surface is just a slime’s version of skin; all the goop you’d imagine just comes from underneath to gather sensory input. I guess that hasn’t happened yet because 1) I don’t have that goop yet–the goop that’ll come from all my muscles, I mean–and 2) I still have a human’s nervous system so I can still touch and understand that feeling.

“So far so good, though. No more skin, no more breakouts. Hopefully the muscles are just as cooperative.”

[The segment ends. The next segment fades in and Elise looks notably different. Her hair is gone and has been replaced with a shorter ‘haircut’ made entirely from slime. She wears a t-shirt and long pants. Elise’s surface is still clear but most of the muscle underneath is also gone, the little remaining still in small patches dotted across her body. Her face is also completely eroded away, all that remains is the skull, eyes, and the inner workings of her ears. The slime that makes up Elise’s body is now tinted green. The timestamp reads ‘5 Months.’]

“This is my entry at 5 months during transition. Holy Hell it has been a rough one. As you can see…”

[Elise slowly stands and orients the camera to face multiple parts of the bedroom, most of which has been compartmentalised and/or boxed up. She finally turns the camera to face her once more in the usual shot.]

“I am ready to get out. In fact, I’m actually headed out tomorrow morning to go live with my partner out west. Out in the wilderness, surrounded by nature. First things first, though. I gotta unpack these last months for y’all.”

[Elise starts to roll up her sleeves before seemingly forgetting that she is wearing a t-shirt, which she begins to fidget with.]

“Transition stuff first. Also sorry if I’m a bit spaced out, I’ve been a bit…well I guess I’ll just call myself out on it, I’ve been a bit airheaded recently. Doctors say it’s a side effect of the drugs, which of course it is. All in the name of science or something.

“I don’t want it to come across like I’m not happy; I’m fucking ecstatic and euphoric all the time. Life’s just been a lot lately.

“In terms of the muscular decomposition it actually kinda freaking hurts. Like when it started I just felt sore but over the course of a week somewhere around 14 weeks in I got barely any sleep. Turns out, acid dissolving you hurts pretty bad, actually. It got better when a majority of the muscle was gone but every now and again the body decides to get rid of more and unfortunately I can’t use any ibuprofen or painkillers because they inhibit some yeast growth and I just so happen to be made of the stuff nowadays.

“Also, on that note, no more caffeine, ever, apparently. Yeasts actually really don’t react well to caffeine so I’m really really glad I don’t drink coffee. No more Dr. Pepper hurts the soul, though. F in the chat for no more dr pepper.

“Also, hair. As in, no more hair, anywhere. I think they try to skirt around the fact that you will drop your hair as soon as the scalp becomes goop when they tell the trans girls about their transition. I think I would have screamed if I had the house to myself when I took that shower and my whole head felt very light. Luckily your body becomes very malleable when you take these drugs and after like four days of trying I figured out how to style my goop-hair. I’m usually covered from top to bottom in clothes to stay hidden, though, so I barely ever get the chance. And of course, since the hair is gone, my nails went around the same time. Been having to wear touchscreen gloves just to use my phone, and rubber gloves under those so I don’t seep through.

“Other changes… well, showering is pretty euphoric, honestly. Putting more water in the body kinda expands it in a way. Makes all the mass a bit sloshy but still workable if I don’t overdo it. Makes me all euphoric to have big ol tiddies whenever I want.

“I’m still able to eat normally, but I’ve started to actually digest with my slime. Lately my goal has been to taste without my tongue – which is also gone, mind you, just got lucky that I kept my tastebuds at least a little bit.”

[Elise stares off into the distance once again, seemingly lost in thought. After a moment she recollects herself and sits a bit taller.]

“Most of you have guessed by now that I’d get fired because of my transition, and yeah, that was last week. I warned my boss way in advance that I may slowly lose some physical function during transition but either she didn’t care to research my procedures or hated my guts anyway, either way I got canned for being unable to lift and perform my duties. It’s not so bad, lets me decompress and get ready to move.

“Yeah, I know, the move. Funny, you think I should have mentioned that first, or maybe a few months ago. Thing is, I had no idea I’d be moving out this early either. My transition is happening at an advanced rate for some reason and the doctors won’t be able to say before 6 months anyway so we’re all a bit in the dark about it.

“So last night I was invited to dinner with my parents. Not like an actual ‘going out to a restaurant’ dinner, no this was more like ‘Elise gets to cook and make her parents a nice meal and be forced to sit and talk about uncomfortable shit with them for at least an hour’ dinner. Lucky for them, I’m a bit of a pushover and I actually do like to cook so I made something nice.

“So, an hour and one stir fried chicken dish later, I’m sitting in the living room with my parents watching TV and absolutely trying to not shrink in on myself. That’s been an experience, let me tell you. I can just kinda ball up now if I want. Which I did not want to do considering I was still stealth from my mom.

“Of course, she has to ask how work is going and of course I had to unmask for just one insignificant second and reply that I was let go. There was a bit of a screaming match, and a ride to the hospital for my mother who legitimately had a heart attack from seeing her daughter’s skull and eyes suspended in a slightly green goop. Food colouring, by the way. Way cheaper than hair dye.

“Mom’s alright, she’s an addict so that’s what the doctors are focussed on now. Which unfortunately means that they have to deal with a whole bunch of bills and other lovely little things. Dad took me aside and made it abundantly clear that I was no longer welcome in their home. Hence, the boxes and suitcase that all hold the entirety of what I own.

“In better news, I’m gonna get an apartment with my love and we’ll be all okay by the end of the week. At some point I’m gonna also have to head into Hyper City again, check in with my doctors who all seem to have no idea why my transition is going so fucking fast all of a sudden. I mean, I was on schedule up until like that 7 weeks update and then everything went into like, I dunno, super puberty, and just shot way ahead.

“So, yeah…transition’s going great, just have to bear with all the other stuff that comes with it. I transitioned once, I can do it again. Stay strong, we’ll make it through together.”

[The scene fades to black as Elise reaches for the camera.]

}~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~{

We are so back. With the Biggest. Update. Ever.

Well, not Elise. She's actually going through it af

More slime time! This post's inspiration (imma keep doing this btw, I like giving shout outs to my humble base of 40 followers) comes from both @draconic-lesbian for constant and continuous love and species affirmation, and @reliablegal who somehow derived her own slime biology and affirmed most of what I found to be true :D

catch y'all later when Elise moves into a new place and totally nothing crazy happens~

[intothedysphoria]

The podcast was Steve’s idea.

It had started with a joke from Heather. She’d took one look at Billy and Steve’s accidentally matching gym clothes and told them they looked like a failing alpha bro podcast duo. The type of guys who’d talk about being alpha males. Billy had laughed hard but it had made Steve think.

They’d been best friends since kindergarten and were functionally inseparable. Billy had seen Steve through a long period of deep, dark depression and Steve liked to think he’d helped Billy through Neil. Most podcasts Steve had listened to, the hosts didn’t even sound like they liked each other. They’d be perfect.

It took Steve about a month to convince Billy to put himself in front of a microphone. For a guy with a 300k follower Instagram thirst trap account, Billy was crushingly self conscious about his voice. He’d been on testosterone for three years but still felt like he sounded “clockable.” It wasn’t until Steve promised that if they got even one comment about Billy’s voice, they’d immediately delete the episode, that Billy agreed.

Between the two of them, they had absolutely no qualifications to start an agony aunt podcast. Still, the first episode was released onto Spotify and it had a surprisingly warm reception. Most of their listeners were queer or neurodivergent and were asking about what to do when a hookup went wrong or how to go outside without having a panic attack.

It was heartwarming really, the affect Steve felt that they were having. Two trans guys talking openly about sex, relationships, social faux pas, fitting in and the occasional tangent on oyster forks wasn’t exactly common. And their audience seemed to cling to them like two older brother figures.

It was perfect. Should have been perfect. It was just that there was a bit of a side affect.

As it turned out, spending every week with your best friend, who was physically just your type, and was also just an absolute sweetheart, led to having a crush on said best friend.

That is if you were Steve anyway. Shit.

Most guys on realising they were crushing hard on their best friend probably would have done something normal, like tell him. Not Steve though. Steve endeavoured to lock himself in the broom closet and scream before every recording session of the podcast.

It would work. Hopefully.

Then Billy started getting random listeners proposing to him via email. They’d read them out before every advice segment and Billy would either accept or decline depending on how funny he found it but it still made Steve die a little inside. Billy felt like his in some intangible, indescribable way and even jokes about marriage felt like suffocating.

He redownloaded Grindr the next day. The guys on there left a lot to be desired, especially compared to Billy but at least it stopped Steve from feeling quite so lonely. He flirted, made decisions that made Robin tut and generally started morphing into the kind of hot mess Steve had been in his late teens.

Billy didn’t seem to notice. That is until he did.

Steve was very late for recording the newest episode, a silly one about accents. He hadn’t remembered to shave so the patchy stubble that hrt was helping him grow in was a mess. There was gum stuck to to the bottom of his shoe. Something had gotten spilled on his shirt.

His co host once again looked delicious. Delicious and worried. So worried in fact that he dragged Steve into the very closet that he’d spent almost two months hiding in.

There was only so long Steve could hedge around the issue. Not with Billy worrying about all the things that could have gone wrong, anxious brain in overdrive. Steve had to tell him.

A short, excruciating silence followed after Steve admitted his crush/budding love. One that the slightly irrational part of his mind was convinced would culminate in Billy punching him again.

That didn’t happen.

Instead, Billy called him a dumbass, they made out under a precarious tin of paint for fifteen minutes, and agreed that getting together was long overdue.

The first email they got from a listener after going public about their relationship was short and to the point.

Can I propose to both of you?

I think it was @camaro-and-smokes and @prettyboy-like-you who reblogged being interested in the og post about this idea and since I am a fic writing weirdo, I wanted to write a little ficlet for them! I hope you both like it

(Inspired LOOSELY by the hilarious Help I Sexted My Boss podcast which I adore. Also inspired a smidge by Lust For Life by @oopsiedaisiesbaby)

[kosmicdream]

Please don’t think of me as a male artist.

..is what i used to feel, for many years, even when I finally came out as trans. In a way, its one of the factors that kept me from pursuing HRT (which im so glad i finally did.) After only one year, my feeling on this hasn’t evaporated completely but i suppose I kind of don’t care anymore about how I am interpreted, as a person/artist, ect.. It isn’t something i can be in control of anyway, which upsets me less than it used to.

Sometimes in the past, the way i write characters has often been analyzed by the gender I am, or appear to be - that my male characters were written like how a woman writes men (too emotional/vulnerable, ect) , or how my female characters are written thoughtlessly- like how a man would. (too horny, stupid, violent, ect.) Its not a new way to analyze a story but I can’t say that it doesn’t annoy me. It could still be true that my characters/writing could fall into sexist/problematic archetypes, but gendering my work based on the way my characters act always reminds me of the “you draw like a girl/boy” comments, which used to be more frequent when i was a teen.. But the idea that boys = angular, good at cars! Or something and girls are, i dunno, gonna draw sexy anime men or something. Even as a teenager, i hated this idea that my art was “girl art.” Truthfully, i always viewed my art and myself as an artist as genderfluid, maybe even a type of drag performance, where i can explore any gender and not be limited by my body, it was my escape from that. Which naturally, it became my place to explore gender presentation and eventually helped me “crack my egg” of realizing i was a trans man.

I do think its important to reflect or regard my work as the art made by a trans man, or transmasculine person. I feel more and more just like “just a dude” these days. I am also a gay man. I think those things are important to my work. I think that the analysis of my work in regards to my identity as a person is important to reflect on. I also think the steps I took to get there were important, that transformation and my continued exploration of my older selves and more “label-less” self in the art i make. That’s a private space for me, that I happen to share with the world too. I feel the audience is part of my work too, I welcome it even. I have become part of the audience too and I look at my work as if I’m also a stranger. The older my work gets, the more of it I can study, the more I can see plainly how I got here and also it feels so confusing how it did. I try to study my art to help me find where I want to go to next, a map to guide me. 

In some ways, I feel more lost than I did before, where all my instinct was pushing me was just to grow and explore as much as possible. Now, I don’t have that same type of energy that I used to. Its not a bad thing, its just different. There’s a sense of duty and commitment and a sense of dread of the time it takes to do what I feel compelled to do on this step of my journey. I am trying to focus more on the things I used to think I was incapable of before and I’m trying to remember the things I used to think were so effortless. I can tell my art is sharper but it feels almost like a mimicry of my older selves - at least when I revisit old work to continue its journey past where its been frozen in time. Comics take a long time, after all, it's normal that after a few years - a story might be yours, but it feels like it belongs to the past of you too, maybe more than it does in the present. I like the commitment I have to my comics though, its not a burden to me. The feeling is strange anyway. 

I tend to think that 1-3 years of a project being made, those are the honeymoon years of the relationship. But you hit a wall in 4-5 years and sometimes you’re in denial about it, you try to keep the dreams and feeling alive as you drag it forward, and sometimes the project really reaches its end around 8-10 years and it becomes a type of empty promise to return to it. Not that this is true for every artist, every project, ect. But I think its a natural lifespan for comics that I’ve observed, and it's because it is uncomfortable to face morality and the morality of our own art. Art is this escape, and when it becomes a job - or an uncomfortable mirror into these things about ourselves, about our failures and promises we couldn’t manage to make, the pressures of the audience, the boredom of the task if you have already told yourself the story a thousand times and you have no longer a desire to continue it, ect - its a normal and natural feeling to want to drop it off a cliff. Blow it up, start over fresh - I know the feeling! Its happened many times. But its kind of temporary? Then, it cycles back to nostalgia - and the desire to create and recreate and reform the past to something tangible again.. uh

Sorry, sorry.. I am getting far from the point I started with. Not that any of this makes too much sense, I feel like writing it anyway. It bothers me that the fantasy of art to me, is the ability to dissolve yourself and stop existing, you are the creator creating. You don’t need to be confined by, really anything. It is in “your control” now, and you surrender your own control by falling into the art and letting it “lead you” places. This is a very seductive process and while it might temporarily be fulfilling (even when done for a lifetime) cannot really.. What.. completely fill the void of whatever you’re chasing down there? Its nice though. At least, when I think about when i first started drawing comics, it was to draw Vash the Stampede (from the original 98 anime series, i hate the new one. We’re not talking about there here) coming out of my television after a thunderstorm and he had to just live in my house now. It was the closest thing I could do to actually manifesting that as reality, of making this amazing anime husband come to life to just like live with me now and be my boyfriend. In a lot of ways I don’t see my pursuit of writing ocs, specifically male ones, really much different from this same desire of like “i can just make my perfect boyfriend!” born out of the loneliness I felt in my heart, and the fear that there is no boyfriend out there for me so i need to frankenstein my own - and this boyfriend will be poifect in every way. Or like, crafting the perfect “relationship” in replace the lack of one, or just the fantasy of watching very abstract extremes come to life in various puppets i crafted, beating the shit out of each other for entertainment. But to subject all these.. Abstract Internal conflicts as simply like a “boy author thing” or “girl author thing” is like.. Tiring. Are we really not past that? (Of course not.) 

Like there’s some hidden truth to the way someone might write/draw, the way that “makes sense” in retrospect once the identity of the author is analyzed and discovered.. How can you make sense of the self, let alone the other .. and In a way that’s permanent? And gendered? Does art now have an inherent sex characteristic? But I cannot deny that I do want my art to look and feel like part of who I am, what I have chosen to sexually identify as - a transgender, a man, a faggot. I DO identify as a sexual deviant, but that is hilarious because I have been single for so long at this point I can’t even remember in a tangible way what that felt like and I question if I ever felt it or experienced it “for realsies” because of the experiences I have had or havent didn’t feel very fulfilling or romantic, despite that being something I desire so much - and so I feel like a failure. And to create art just based on the fantasy of desire rather than the lived reality, can it even really display what that would actually be like. So its embarrassing, right? 

I have worked on my art a lot and I have often thought, or come to the conclusion (true or not) that my singleness is the result of my pursuit and dedication to art - which is the pursuit of self isolation and protection from harm. From influence, from acknowledging that life can exist and someday end. And when you work on projects for years and years, the pride/shame dichotomy only gets more.. Weird. It gets weird, guys! It always was weird, but.. I just think about so many my heroes, my art inspirations, working decades on their art.. I follow in their footsteps too and it feels scarier and lonelier than I expected it to be. And the more and more I realized that as a reality, as my 20s faded away, the more I kept walking. I wasn’t gonna stop now, even if I could, I don’t want to and its not hard to do other things too. I have a slower pace than I used to (thank god) and gets slower but I’m still moving. 

I don’t post or write my little art journals as much as I used to. Mostly cause I don’t really have anything good to say and it kinda feels embarrassing to post them too LOL. But.. whatever!! Its been a weird four months of me being off work and I’m about to go back to being a normal working person again.. But its like, its weird to tell people about your art when they ask about what you do. Its like “oh yeah, i draw webcomics” and they wont get it, you’ll say - “yeah its 8,000 pages long” and they’ll say, “thats a lot!” and it is. They’re very nice about it, but there’s a lack of satisfaction there with what that means. I don’t expect it, that’d be dumb as hell. Its nice to take a break from it too, to discover other sides of myself I never let shine because i stayed indoors for a decade, but its a weird feeling too. Like, what will it mean in the end? I don’t really know. 

I don’t think I need “success” to feel like this was worth it, its not like a trophy is gonna come in the mail for the good workTM I’ve done - there is no closure to the work I make even when a story finishes. I have to keep going regardless of that, and its strange to know it won’t ever feel done. But I am so thirsty for that temporary itch to be scratched, it keeps me working every day for the “maybe” of what that might feel like. Kinda silly, really. Is it my “male” pride that demands recognition? Would respect be given more freely if I had “remained” to be perceived as a woman, for subverting the expectations for what a woman can/can’t write? (lol) Is my value as a person determined by that sort of thing in my art? I don’t think of my pride as gendered, but I know its there and I know because of who I say I am, my pride will be gendered by others. I think when I was a woman, that pissed me off more than now because.. Well.. I wasn’t even living as the way i wanted to. I still don’t really live as the way I want to, the way I want to be perceived, but even being on HRT for a little more than 1 year, without much else lifestyle changes, I feel a little more at peace not mattering what others will take away from me or what i write about. I have a lot of my own expectations for myself and what i write about and that concerns me far more. 

I don’t really know how else to end this, I’m going to eat chocolate now. Oh, to answer your question (?) if you might have this one: can I think of you as a male artist, kosmic? sure. I am one after all.