#but on the other hand if anyone in this show is transfem it's gotta be kelso

[toilonto649lore]

i'm just going fucking crazy over here with my transfem kelso headcanon. can no one else see how much sense it'd make for kelso to be either a trans woman or at least nonbinary / gender nonconforming!? letting jackie put makeup and a dress on them and dance around her room? being ashamed when hyde asks her if she shaves her legs and then later admitting she does it bc she likes the way it feels? responding "yes i do" when jackie asks her if she knows what it's like being the prettiest girl at the party and referring to herself as "pretty like a girl" throughout the series? other examples i can't think of rn?? THE EVIDENCE IS RIGHT THERE PEOPLE

[t4tpumpkinduo]

Do you think one had a bad body image and would comfort the other in some way? Like, be it weight, their features (stunted wing growth, a broken horn), or generally being in the wrong body?

oh for sure! it deffo goes both ways as like uhh. cq cschlatt are both some of the few characters who have canonical nods to having eating disorders so that's its own whole thing.

cq insecurities obviously cuz of the. gestures shitty little wings that don't work fucking weak as hell in general. cschlatt insecurities weakness of her body and his issues w disability. and then getting weak as hell in general.

same w uhh transgendahisms. i've talked a bit abt their textually supported transmasc transfem swagger and mm. ithink cq isn't like. too hung up on anything? i think he gets mildly dysphoric at best, like. squirmy uncomfortable if he's called a girl in a context that isn't a guy being babygirled or him asking for it. but it's rlly not that serious, it's more a deeply uncomfortable inconvenience than anything like he could walk it off in a day. for cschlatt it super is the kill myself tournament with him competing for ultimate winner BUT. he does let his guard down abt it a Little in manburg, even though he doesn't fully accept it abt herself well into revival.

(like to be clear, i do think they both riff on eachother quite a bit, but it's considerably less targeted and malicious than ppl like to portray it as. 😭 literally everyone in the server is kind of mean and an asshole and pokes fun at eachother. ohhh q is so evillll schlatt is such a freakkkk omg. karl called quackity ugly and stupid and unlovable and i never see ppl posting that clip going owuwgh this is so chilling. bcs its rlly not that serious. 😭 they're playing toys q's fucking fine. and to be clear, these words Do affect characters, like the ableism schlatt faces or the body shaming tht q goes through but narratively speaking, the ppl saying stuff to them generally don't mean shit w the intent of severely harming anyone.)

that said though :] they do help eachothers out. cq tries to get schlatt to eat more where he can, drink some damn water for once, rest more. mb like kneads n massages at her to help w her aches whenever he can, or pulls people away when schlatt clearly needs a second due to the disorders without having the spotlight on something cschlatt clearly doesn't want to show. cq voice oh noooo i totally made extra food i guess we have to share oh nooo i totally made the bed super comfortable so now you have to lay down w me oh no ihave this leftover hot cider specifically to help w the circulation in your hands >___< guess you gotta help me now. and cschlatt grumbles and groans and whines and then does it anyways and bumps him abt it. fake ass emo i saw you wagging. i would never derail a post to coo abt beautiful adorable women (gripping the sink bloodshot eyes affirmation)

n fr cschlatt like. idk i think abt the stream where cq has retainers in and schlatt keeps poking fun at him and ribbing him and when someone else does, he starts nagging them? 😭 he starts telling them to fuck off and stop making fun of him so he like IS protective of him in that way. i also think he probably like. tries to help cq too, mb being very good at talking him down from paranoia or mental spirals, mb clears a space out whenever he's sick or outta it so he isn't near people who will freak him out, or makes excuses so they have to hole up doing v easy paperwork away from others so cq can rest and untense without having to watch his back and also not explain himself. #JUVIE #HELL

also their both bpdgirls so they're probably doing their best w that smile.

and again, i do think cschlatt does eventually open up a tiny bit abt girlisms. he wouldn't outright frame it as gender exploration, i think it'd be more of a. i won't unpack this but please call me this please and cq is more than happy to like coo and indulge him even though it completely flies over his head tht it could be anything more. ithink cschlatt would like. preen him or kinda. idk, it's probably harder fr him to be more earnest, more openly fond than cq who's so open smone should rlly stop him and or taze him but. like he'll hold his hand for comfort or bump him little ram style to say thank you instead of verbalizing it cuz his face is burning too hard to speak. quietly keeping eachother company during paperwork so neither of them get too bored or frustrated, or helping eachother w delusions or flashbacks even though they don't talk abt anything in detail. just a kinda quiet acceptance.

idk cpumpkins you will always be famous to me sorry abt the narrative and the dooming and all that. society if there wasn't an evil demon ghoul pitting two psychotic dudes against eachother, enabling their worst impulses, alienating them from their loved ones and then assisting them in their suicides so he could kidnap a child he's obsessed with

[dev-nxbody-h3re]

haha I told y'all I'd write a transfem mike au and boy did i

ft: extremely emotionally constipated tgirl, br*tish hater, the self care monster, and the only sane person ever

(the trigger warnings seem dark but I promise it's really not bad at all I promise this is HURT/COMFORT)

TW: internalized transphobia, f slur uncensored (once), swearing, bullying, accidental misgendering (michael is a bit of an idiot in this one lads), misogyny (not from anyone important tho), brief mention of church, mentions of abuse, lengthy emotional breakdown

Michael wasn't normal.

He's known that since forever. He never fit in right at school. He tried, really he did, but nothing he did worked. All of his classmates teased him for being too polite, so he toughened up. They mocked him for being too clean, so he got messy. They bullied him for being too girly, so he manned up.

But nothing worked. He was still Michael, the weird kid, the fag, the nut.

So he fought back. Michael got dirty, he got angry. The first time he punched someone in the nose, seeing their blood staining his hand, he felt disgusting. Not because he'd engaged in violent behavior, but because he liked it.

He liked it.

It was scary.

He racked up enough detentions and suspensions to last a lifetime, enough to miss out on a cool field trip to the aquarium. Whatever. It was just a bunch of dumb fish.

Michael had escaped his legacy as the weird kid. Now he was Michael the bully, the freak, the brute.

Despite everything, he managed to aquire friends. Somehow.

It wasn't on purpose, he would make that clear.

These three hooligans had brute-forced their way into Michael's life, digging up everything Michael had worked so hard to bury and elbowing their way past his carefully constructed defenses.

It was terrifying how easily they broke him. He felt himself unconsciously loosening around them, always having to slam his walls back up quickly. He couldn't relax his guard lest his peers see him for who he truly is.

Even still, with how scared he was around them, he couldn't bring himself to abandon them. He'd grown to.. tolerate the three.

Tolerate, yes. That's the word he'd use to describe their relationship, but truly he knew it was more than just toleration.

He didn't know what it was, because he'd never really stopped to think about it, but deep down he knew he did care about them.

He knew it in the way he knew where the cereal was at Taylor's house, in the way he knew the shortest route from Matthew's to James', the way he knew he'd be welcome to drop by whenever he wanted.

But he was scared. Oh, he was so scared.

Michael had had to adapt to a world that hated him, but that didn't mean he was entirely the person he'd created. Michael Afton was a fabrication; a falsehood. If they knew what he was really like, he was sure they'd never speak to him again.

But it wasn't like he could just tell them and have an open and honest conversation about how he was feeling, eventually leading to their bond growing and their relationship remaining healthy, right? That'd be ridiculous.

So he kept it bottled inside, the correct way to handle emotions.

"Earth to Michael? Hellooooo??" Michael was roused from his thoughts by Matthew snapping his fingers in front of his eyes. "Are you alive in there, big guy?"

Michael frowned, but at what he wasn't sure. "Just zoned out a bit," He muttered.

"Great, awesome. Well anyway, I've gotta head upstairs to Math. Is Taylor still driving?" Matthew and Michael stopped at the stairs, ignoring the other children around them walking to class.

Michael nodded. "Yeah, he's still driving unless he drops dead in the middle of Culinary."

Matthew looked like he wanted to say something, but shook his head. "Haha, yeah.. See you after school, Michaelangelo!" He waved, walking straight into a couple of girls coming down the stairs. Matthew laughed sheepishly, stepping past them and walking upstairs.

Michael laughed inwardly as he went to his art class. He'd made a huge show of needing an art credit to graduate, bemoaning the school for making him take such a girly class, but he secretly really enjoyed it. It was one of the only things he allowed himself to enjoy nowadays.

As he entered the room, he made sure he looked as displeased to be there as possible.

He could get through the last class of the day, no problem.

...

It was not "no problem".

Michael felt bad. He felt really bad. He didn't know why, but three quarters the way through class he had his head in his arms trying not to cry.

He was pretending he fell asleep, of course.

Michael didn't know why he was feeling so awful. He'd just been chatting with a couple of tablemates a few minutes prior, and then he just.. fell apart.

"Hey, man, wake up. Class is almost over, dude." One of his tablemates (he thought his name was Marcus?) spoke up, shaking his arm.

Tears welled up in his eyes again. He blinked them away quickly and sat up, acting as if sleep had made his eyes wet and not whatever was happening to him.

"Hey, Mike, a couple of those chicks over there were talking about you." A kid he vaguely remembered as Trevor gestured to a table close by. Michael wondered why he was bringing it up, it's not as if he really cared.

"Oh yeah? what were they saying?" He asked, gathering up his pencils as the clock ticked nearer to 2:46.

"Kensie's got a crush on you," Trevor whispered. "She says that she loves a man who could pick her up. Haha, dude, you should totally pretend to ask her out, it'd be hilarious!"

His lip twitched. "Who's Kensie?"

Marcus ignored his question. "Oh, that would be so funny! Come on, man, you gotta! She's dumb as a rock, she'd totally fall for it. And it's not like you don't got a line of broads waiting to drool over you anyway, one dumb bitch isn't gonna fuck it up for you."

Michael clenched his teeth, scowling. "That sounds unnecessarily cruel. Can't you guys just lay off, I've got shit to do and I don't have time for your garbage."

Trevor whistled. "Ohhhh, Britain's got a mouth on him! Come on, are you scared Mr. Tough Guy? Can't even muster up the courage to talk to a woman? Hah, Tim was right, you really are a pansy bitch."

"Yeah, man up, she'll just forget it tomorrow!" Marcus agreed, picking his backpack off the floor.

Michael gripped his own backpack with a vice grip. What in the world was wrong with him? Every single sentence they spoke shot barbs into his chest, and for why?

As he opened his mouth to bite out a retort, the bell chimed. The teacher called out a farewell as every student rushed to the door.

Michael pushed past everyone and walked down the hall towards James' class, his knuckles turning white from where he clutched his shirt. He really wanted to punch something, or break something, or just get all of his nervous energy out, but he'd look like a freak if he did. So he settled for wrinkling his shirt a bit.

He saw James standing near a block of lockers waiting for him. As he neared, the boy noticed his presence and jogged over to him.

"Hey, Mickey! You alright?" James, never one for subtlety, asked. Michael sighed.

"Fine. Just.. bad day, I guess." He avoided James' gaze as they walked to the student parking lot.

"Awe, shucks, that's rough. You don't have to go home today, right?" James said, trying to distract Michael from his problems.

"Not right away, the nanny's picking up Evan and Elizabeth from school so I've got a bit before curfew," He replied easily.

"Sweet, dude!" Michael was starting to feel.. hollow. What was wrong with him? "I'm sure as hell not going home today, my parents are having a get together with some people from church and I'd rather not be around for that." James chuckled dryly, wringing his hands together nervously.

"And I'm assuming Matthew is still staying with Taylor for the foreseeable future." To put it very lightly, Matthew had a nasty fight with his parents and was unable to stay there for a while.

"Yup. What can you do, y'know?" His cheery mood fell a bit, but he shook it away. "Come on, we don't want Taylor to get bored and leave us." James grabbed Michael's arm and tugged him along.

Soon enough they found themselves gathering around Taylor's car.

"You guys sure were slow today," Taylor remarked, deadpan as usual.

"There were a lot more people than usual," James said apologetically. Taylor's lips quirked up in a smile.

"It's cool. Not like we've got anywhere to be." He walked to the driver's side of the car and got in, the others following him.

Michael had to sit in the passenger seat because he was, in James' words, freakishly tall. That meant Matthew and James had to share the backseat.

"Oh my god, get your feet off me, gnome," Matthew complained, trying to squirm away from James who was laying sideways in the backseat.

"Why? You love it. You love it soooo much!" James teased, grinning. Matthew groaned.

"No, you fucking stink. You're so gross, ohmygodstop!" Matthew jerked away as James kicked him in the face.

"Boys, settle down back there. You're gonna make me crash the car," Taylor reprimanded, not sounding very enthusiastic.

"Sorry, mom.." They said simultaneously, James sitting correctly while Matthew glared at him.

"Thank you," Taylor said. "Please be more respectful to the only one of us with a license."

"I have my permit," Michael reminded him. Taylor looked at him briefly.

"Your dad doesn't let you drive."

"I could. I passed the test, I just need hours."

"I don't trust you to drive my car," Taylor said, pulling into his driveway. His parents' car was not in the driveway, like usual.

Michael rolled his eyes, grabbing his backpack as he exited the car. The others soon followed, Taylor taking out his keys and unlocking the door.

Michael immediately went to the kitchen to make himself tea, dropping his backpack on the floor.

"Woah, you alright?" Matthew asked, surprised at how quickly he moved.

"Fine," Michael replied curtly, beginning to boil water. He tapped his fingers on the countertop as he stared at the kettle, waiting impatiently for it to steam.

Matthew peered over his shoulder to see what he was doing. "Wow, really going back to England with this one, huh?"

"Yeah, yeah, pip pip cheerio, laugh it up." He grumbled. "I'm only British when it's funny."

"Aww, Mike, you're British all the time!" Matthew grinned, mischief in his eyes. "It's just always funny!"

"Not gonna be as funny when this Brit douses you in boiling water," Michael snarked back, his mouth twitching up into a smile despite himself.

Matthew gave a fake gasp. "Oh, the horror! What ever will I do?!" He chuckled a bit to himself before wrapping his arms around Michael's midsection, resting his head on his shoulder. Michael really couldn't bring himself to care. "But seriously, are you alright man? You're feeling a bit tense."

After a moment of hesitation, Michael nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. I'm great, even. Doing just peachy."

Matthew clicked his tongue in disbelief. "You're a shit liar."

Once again, Michael nodded. "Don't know why I even bothered."

"You know you can tell me what's up." Matthew prompted, stroking Michael's stomach with his thumb. "I'm the least judgy person to ever exist, ever."

Michael stared at the kettle. "I don't want to talk about it," He said simply. He expected more prodding and quite a bit more teasing, but all he got was a hum.

"Alright. Just know I'm here if you wanna talk." Matthew moved his head closer to Michael's. He could feel his vocal chords vibrating against his shoulder.

The simplicity of it all made Michael feel weird. That was it? No digging in, no relentless jabbering? None of the 'are you sure's and 'come on man's? It was odd, but not unwelcome. He really had to start getting used to basic respect, but it never failed to upturn him every time it happened.

After a moment of silence, Michael spoke. "Are you gonna leave?"

Matthew shifted his head. "Do you want me to?"

Michael blinked down at the kettle, letting out a breath. "No, not really." He opened his mouth to continue, but decided against it at the last moment. He still had somewhat of an image to maintain, even if his friends were slowly chipping away at it one act of kindness at a time.

He felt Matthew smile. "Awesome. Can I have some tea, too? You make the best tea."

In lieu of an answer, Michael reached up and grabbed another cup out of the cupboard.

"Thanks, you're the best." He replied, squeezing Michael lightly.

As they waited for the water to boil (maybe watching it was making the water nervous or something), Michael felt the silence slowly turn tense. Maybe it was just him and to Matthew, everything was fine. But as he was left alone with only the sounds of water beginning to boil to distract him from his thoughts, something in him burned to be released.

"Matthew, I don't think I-" Michael choked on his words, everything he'd been thinking about suddenly far out of his reach. But he couldn't go back, not after he'd already got this far. It would look weird; Matthew would judge him. He took a deep breath, feeling Matthew's weight behind him just that little bit more. "I don't think I like being... being me, anymore."

He felt his throat closing up as his vision blurred with tears, but his chest felt lighter. Michael swallowed against emotion, gripping the counter to prevent his hands from shaking. What was he thinking? He fucked everything up, he couldn't take it back, what was Matthew thinking? He was quiet, he was too quiet, what if Matthew hated him? What if-

"Hey, that's okay." Matthew reassured, bringing his hands up to Michael's arms. "If you don't like being you, just switch it up until you find something you like. You don't have to keep being this you if you don't like him." Matthew shrugged, seemingly unaware of Michael's inner turmoil. "That's just my opinion, though. I'm not really the guy to ask about an identity crisis, that's more Taylor's thing."

Michael drew in a deep breath. As he thought of a reply that wouldn't make him burst into tears, the kettle began whistling. Thankful for the distraction, he dislodged his arms from Matthew's hands and poured the water into the two cups, pulling two teabags out of the box.

He let them steep, finding his answer after a moment.

"No, it's.. it's alright. I just need to man up and deal with it. It'll go away," Michael said, finally managing to swallow back his tears. The statement felt wrong.

Matthew slapped him on the stomach. "Okay, you're being a stupid ass idiot, I'm bringing in the big guns." Michael's eyes widened as he knew exactly what Matthew was referring to.

"No, wait-"

"JAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMEEEEEEESSSSS!" Matthew yelled. "MICHAEL ISN'T TAKING CARE OF HIS HEAAAAAAALTHHHHH!"

Almost immediately, Michael heard what he thought might be the sounds of several rabid dogs fighting drawing nearer and nearer as the seconds passed.

"NOT ON MY FUCKING WATCH HE ISN'T." James entered the kitchen at extreme speeds, sliding on the tile and almost colliding with the fridge.

A moment later, Taylor came sliding in, breathing heavily. "What did... he do... this time...?"

"He told himself to man up as if his feelings don't matter!" Matthew tattled, Michael shrinking into himself in embarrassment.

"Alright that's it, you're in time out. I sentence you to one hour MINIMUM-" James accentuated that word heavily- "in the Cuddle Dungeon!"

"Hey now, wait, I think there's been a misunderstanding-" Michael tried to plead his case, but was interrupted by Taylor.

"Should've thought about the consequences of your actions before you dismissed your mental well-being, young man!"

In an instant, everything Michael had worked so hard to repress came bursting out. That hurt. He didn't know why, but it hurt so bad.

Everyone went dead silent as Michael began to sob. He leaned hard on his hands, digging his palms into the edge of the counter.

"Oh, Michael." Taylor stepped up to him, nudging Matthew out of the way. He grabbed his arm and turned Michael to face him. "What's wrong?"

The others, not prepared to deal with Michael crying, stood in the kitchen awkwardly.

"I don't know what's wrong with me.." Michael tearfully admitted.

"Why do you think there's something wrong with you?" He took Michael's hands into his own, gripping them firmly.

"There's something wrong with me." He reiterated. "I'm disgusting, I- I'm horrible, I-"

"No, hey, don't say that about yourself." He felt Taylor guiding him out of the kitchen. Taylor pushed him onto the couch, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders.

After a second, he felt weight on each side. He cracked open a tear-filled eye and saw the others sitting next to him.

"You're amazing, Mike. I dunno who told you that but I'm gonna beat them up," James said earnestly. Michael didn't quite believe James could physically fight anyone, as short as he was.

"Come on, honey. Can you tell us why you're feeling like this?" Taylor rubbed his hand across his back, leaning up against his side. Michael almost melted at the nickname.

"I don't like being me," He sobbed. "It hurts to be me. I- It's so dumb." Michael wiped at his eyes, fruitlessly trying to cease his pathetic crying.

"I don't think it's dumb. I'm sure the others don't think it's dumb either." Taylor reassured. "Why don't you like being you?"

Michael took a moment to think about it. "It- it just hurts. I just wanna-" He made frustrated, angry motions with his hands, seemingly mimicking destroying something. "I just wanna get rid of it!"

"Get rid of what?" James asked, his hand on his knee.

"The- the- the-" Michael hummed in frustration, unable to articulate exactly what he was feeling. "The Michael! Just.. Michael! I wanna.. I wanna be everything but Michael!"

After the longest 'short pause' Michael had ever sat through, he continued. "I don't know. I just don't know. I'm sorry, I shouldn't ha-"

"No, no, it's okay not to know. I understand what you're feeling, it's not stupid, alright?" Taylor said, sharing a brief look with Matthew and James.

Michael gave a disbelieving scoff. "You're just saying that to make me feel better." He tried once again to wipe his eyes, eventually just giving up.

"It's true. I've had many an identity crisis in my day."

"It's not an identity crisis!" Michael wailed, another round of sobbing spurred on.

"Hey man, no offense but that is literally what an identity crisis is," Matthew said. Michael just sobbed harder.

James and Taylor gave him a look. "What did I do?"

"Just.. forget it," James replied, shaking his head.

"Mike, wh-" Taylor scooted closer to him.

"Stop!" He whined, bringing his feet up on the couch, head resting on his knees.

A pause.

"Stop what?" Matthew asked.

Taylor shushed him. "Do you not want to be called Michael anymore?"

Michael(?) hesitated for a moment before shaking his head.

"Oh. Oh," Taylor cooed, running his fingers through (?)'s hair. "That's okay. Do you have an idea of what you want to be called?"

His breath hitched in a sob, once again shaking his head.

"Okay." Taylor took a deep breath. "I have a question for you, alright?"

(?) nodded, peeking over his knees to look at Taylor.

"Do you know what being transgender is?"

(?) thought about it for a bit, and then shook his head. He could tell Taylor was nervous, but about what he wasn't sure.

Taylor cracked a smile. "Well, I'm transgender. It- It means that I was born a boy, but I'm not anymore."

He blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I'm nonbinary. It's like.. a third gender. I'm not a boy or a girl. Some people were born girls and became boys, and some people were born boys and became girls. I picked neither." Taylor explained, eyes darting up to Matthew and James. So they knew, then. "That's what being transgender is."

He tried to process the information, thinking it over before responding. It was obvious that being "transgender" was important to Taylor. "So there's secret genders nobody told me about?"

Taylor laughed. "I mean, yeah I guess. I have a secret gender."

(?) nodded. "Okay. Um, if you're non.. uh.."

"Nonbinary." Taylor corrected.

"That. If you're that, um, is there like a secret he or she option? Since you're not a boy or girl."

"I use they and them. Like when you're talking about a group of people," They said.

"That's cool." (?) sniffed, wiping his tears on his jeans. "Why are you telling me this?"

Taylor smiled. "Well, sweetheart-" (?) squeaked in response to the nickname.

James 'aww'ed from (?)'s other side. "That was adorable."

"Did you like that, sweetheart?" Matthew teased, tousling (?)'s hair gently. (?)'s face flushed, and he buried his head in his arms.

"Do you think you're a boy?" Taylor asked simply. The sentence threw (?) off, snapping his head up.

"Of course I am." He answered, more of a knee-jerk reaction than anything.

"Take a bit to think about it and then get back to us." James patted him on the arm. "Meanwhile, I believe you left your tea in the kitchen, so I'll be getting that."

James stood up, shoving Matthew off the couch just for fun. He walked into the kitchen giggling.

"That rat fuck." Matthew climbed back on the couch, settling up against (?).

(?), however, took some time to think. Actually think. Was he a boy?

The obvious answer was yes, because he was born a boy. But what Taylor said threw that theory out the window. It was confusing, but it made sense. Kind of? Transgender people could like.. do that. Gender crossing. (?) briefly wondered if transgender people were shapeshifters.

He kind of wanted to be a shapeshifter. Imagine all the things he could do. What would he do? Well, he'd probably make himself shorter, he'd never really liked how tall he'd gotten. He'd for sure get rid of any facial hair, that's a given. He already had decently long hair, but what if it went down to his ass? He would be able to put it up in a ponytail. He would swish it around and twirl around in pretty skirts. Maybe he'd braid flowers into it.

He would be happy, walking to pretty little shops and thrifting and reading those shitty romance novels he was always bullied for reading. Guys would start falling in love with him because they'd think he's a girl, and he'd love the attention.

Yeah. He'd love to be able to shapeshift. That would be awesome.

(?) giggled softly, imagining himself as a girl. He thought that he would be a lot prettier as a girl. More lively. If he could wake up as a girl tomorrow, that would be the ideal scenario.

He shook himself out of his thoughts. What was he supposed to be thinking about?

Ah, yes. Is he a boy?

...

...

Yes, he does think he's a boy.

But why did it feel so awful to think about that?

Was he a boy?

Just thinking about it, seriously thinking about it was terrifying.

But at the same time, it was a bit freeing. He could be a girl if he wanted.

He could be a girl.

He could-

She could be a girl.

"I come bearing gifts!" James exclaimed, holding two tea cups in his hands. Matthew sat up straight and made grabby hands towards James. "Not for you, bitch," he said, giving Matthew the cup anyway.

James handed (?) her (HER!!!!) the second cup, (?) taking it eagerly.

(?) took a tentative sip, pleasantly surprised at how close it tasted to her usual recipe. "You're good at making tea."

"I watched you do it for so long I just memorized it." James sat down, grinning bashfully.

After sitting in silence for a couple minutes drinking tea, (?) finally spoke.

"I think I'm a girl," she whispered, almost afraid to speak any louder.

A beat.

She barely had time to set her tea down before she was practically tackled into a four-way hug.

"I'm so proud of you," Taylor said, almost wrapped around her neck entirely.

"I already have several name suggestions if you wanna hear them!" James exclaimed, squashed against her cheek.

"Chill out, dude, you're gonna overwhelm her." Matthew paused. "You do use she and her, right?"

(?) grinned, new tears welling up in her eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Wow, you're the first girl I've ever spoken to!" Matthew cackled.

"That's just sad, man. You're what, 15?" Taylor asked.

"He acts like he's 7," James said, punching Matthew in the arm lightly.

"And you look like you're 7!" He shot back.

"That is uncalled for, you dirty sack of shit!"

As they argued, Taylor cupped her cheek and made her look at them. "Seriously. Thanks for trusting us with that. I know it wasn't easy for you."

(?) smiled at them softly. "I'm not used to it yet. But I think- no, I know this is what I want." She paused. "I think."

"Don't worry about it. I still get doubts about my gender all the time." Taylor looked her over. "Besides, I don't think I've seen you smile this much ever."

"Yeah, I'm. I'm really happy," (?) said.

Looking over at the other two (who were still arguing) she felt that maybe this wouldn't be so hard.

Maybe being her would finally be worth it.