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glitchy-anime-fan · 3 years

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He/They Chuuya Nakahara (hc)

I was talking with a friend the other day and we had this idea of Chuuya using he/they pronouns, so here are my hc’s for it! I’m also including they/them nb Dazai as a little treat

I tried to keep it as wholesome as I could, I’m not the best at angst and there are some struggles that I personally haven’t faced so I don’t feel comfortable writing it! Though, I hope you all enjoy anyway!

TW: Mild swearing, mention of violence (nothing to bad), and mention of suicide (it’s only once, and nothing is in detailed)

Chuuya had always thought he felt comfortable with his gender identity, he never felt that he had anything to feel uncomfortable with

He was aware of his petite figure and more feminine features, and as annoyed as it made him when someone called him “short”, he never got offended when he was mistaken for a girl

Okay, he may have glared or scared off the person that accidentally misgendered him, but that’s only because he had a reputation to uphold as the King of Sheep!

Though despite the way he responded to being mistaken for a girl, he never took it personally.

“I know I look like a girl, and as much as it annoys me there’s no point in wasting the energy on worrying about it.” Chuuya had told Yuan one day when she asked about it after a pedestrian called Chuuya “Ma’am” on accident and he said nothing.

Chuuya always chalked it up to him just being comfortable and confident with his masculinity, so being mistaken as a girl never bothered him

That, or maybe it was the influence of Arahabaki who didn’t care about anything but chaos. What was gender to a literal god?

Though when he joined the Port Mafia, his mindset started to change slowly but surely

It started when Chuuya began his training with Kouyou

“Oh you have such a delicate face!” “If I didn’t know better I would think you were a girl!” “You would look so cute in this!” We’re all things Chuuya heard daily from Kouyou’s girls

The first thing Chuuya was taught was how to play into his femininity; working on being more gentle when needed, allowing himself to be vulnerable during missions, and humbling himself out

He would also spend “bonding time” with Kouyou where she would teach Chuuya how to properly apply makeup, do his hair, etc.

“Why do I have to do this again?” Chuuya had asked while Kouyou was applying a subtle amount of eyeliner to the ginger's eyes.

“To help you get more in touch with your feminine side. You are very lucky to be gifted with such a petite frame and delicate face.” Kouyou stated simply as she finished with the eyeliner, placing the little container and brush onto the vanity table.

Chuuya huffed. It wasn’t the first time he had heard this speech, Kouyou’s girls always fawned over his looks. Of course he didn’t mind the attention, it was something he didn’t get when he was with the sheep, but he could only listen to the same phrases so many times before he lost it.

“With the right training you will probably be able to get farther in undercover jobs than even Dazai.” Kouyou added with a knowing smirk. That’s all Chuuya needed to hear to sit quietly for the rest of his make-up session.

And you know what? Chuuya would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy when Kouyou did his make up.

She always applied just the right amount of blush to make it look natural and not like he was sick (blush was not Chuuya’s strong suit), and he honestly felt more confident with the simple makeup than he honestly would have ever imagined.

And though he still chalked it up to either his own comfort with his masculinity or Arahabaki, Chuuya definitely felt something change in the way he felt about himself, he just didn’t know what yet.

Though makeup and wearing dresses were two completely different things. At first at least.

“No! There is no way in hell that I’m wearing a stupid dress!” Chuuya had yelled as Dazai, Kouyou’s girls, and Kouyou herself tried to convince him to wear the azure dress.

“Oh common hat rack! It’s just for one mission, an hour at most! Maybe two if things go south. Besides you already wear makeup, what's the harm in a dress?” Dazai had said as the brunette inched closer to Chuuya. Chuuya glared at his partner, then the dress, then back at Dazai.

Chuuya was fine with wearing makeup; It made him feel confident. Chuuya was fine with being mistaken as a girl; it had happened so often he didn’t always notice at first. Chuuya was fine with men wearing dresses; it’s their life they can do whatever the hell they want.

What Chuuya wasn’t fine with, or what he thought he wasn’t fine with, was himself wearing a dress. Chuuya had been with the Port Mafia for a year now, and he had discovered a lot about himself. But there was something about the idea of him in a dress that made him...uncomfortable? Or was it scared? Scared that the moment he put on that stupid blue dress, it would confirm something in Chuuya that he wasn’t ready to confirm yet.

“Maybe we should give him some space, Dazai. Let him breathe a little.” Kouyou had suggested noticing the nervousness Chuuya was trying to hide behind his anger.

Chuuya finally let out a defeated sigh and aggressively snatched the dress out of Dazai’s hands.

“Fine I’ll wear the damn dress! But you only get this for an hour. One. Hour.” Chuuya finally huffed as he walked behind the changing screen. He knew he was going to regret this, and it’s not because Dazai would have ample black mail material. He just couldn’t place what it was he was going to regret.

And to Chuuya’s surprise, he didn’t really mind the dress

Dresses weren’t something he would ever wear casually. He found them hard to move in and he hated heels with a burning passion

But wearing one on the occasional undercover mission didn’t result in Chuuya getting goosebumps or having to fight with Dazai about wearing it.

And Chuuya had been right to think it would confirm something in himself, because after the first mission Chuuya began noticing that he didn’t always feel like a guy

Sometimes he felt like he had felt for years. He was fine when someone referred to him with he/him pronouns, or called him ‘sir’

Other days he wouldn’t respond right away when a lower ranking member called him ‘sir’, or he felt weird when someone used masculine pronouns

And most days he just didn’t care all that much. It didn’t matter to him what he was referred to by other members.

Surprisingly Q was the first person Chuuya ever opened up about this too, and eventually they were the first one Chuuya came out to

“Why are you staring at me like that? Do I have something on my face?” Chuuya asked, eyebrow raised as he wiped his face with his napkin.

“You’ve been acting weird lately Chuu.” Q responded matter-of-factly as they played with their food. It was Chuuya’s turn to babysit Q today and he thought taking the 7 year old out to lunch would keep them out of trouble. Though Chuuya felt like now he was the one in trouble.

Ever since that first mission with the dress Chuuya had started to feel different about himself. He had always been so confident in his gender identity, but with the weird feelings he had been getting he wasn’t so sure.

‘Am I really that bad at hiding it?’ Chuuya thought to himself as he swallowed his mouthful of food nervously. He had never opened up about his gender struggles and the fact that a 7 year old could pick up on it made him feel a little nervous.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about kid.” He lied.

“That’s a lie and you know it, Chuu! You’ve been all weird since that undercover mission with the dress!” Q said, pointing an accusing finger at Chuuya. Chuuya had to admit the kid was surprisingly observant, probably from being around Dazai.

“Would you quiet down! The entirety of Yokohama does not need to know about that!” Chuuya hissed. The other occupants of the restaurant glanced their way at the noise but lost interest pretty quickly. They didn’t need to know that the two of them were from the mafia.

“Anyway, what does it matter? It’s not like my work has been impacted-“

“Yet.” Q cut in before Chuuya could finish. They had since forgotten their food and was instead placing all their attention on the ginger.

“Eh?” Was all Chuuya could get out as a response.

“It hasn’t impacted your work yet. But if you keep it bottled up then it’s going to impact more than just your work.” Q said as if it was something any 7 year old would say.

‘When did this kid get so mature?’

“And where did you learn that?” Chuuya asked, an amused and impressed smirk on his face.

“Ane-san! And have you ever heard of something called ‘demiboy’?”

“Eh?”

Yeah, turns out this ‘demiboy’ label Q mentioned actually fit what Chuuya was feeling pretty well.

It wasn’t until he did some research into the term that Chuuya realised the weird feelings he was getting was because he wasn’t as connected to his identity as ‘male’ as he first thought

He had decided to do a little more research into the nonbinary/transgender spectrum and had decided that he related most to demiboy.

He even helped Q realise that they were, in fact, non-binary (Q had never told them their gender, so they always used they/them. Guess it wasn’t a bad thing after all).

Though, while Q liked having the label, they felt it was very fitting, Chuuya did not.

He was fine with trying out he/they pronouns, he felt they fit him much better than just he/him. But what he didn’t like was feeling constricted to just one label

“I don’t need the label, it feels constricting.” Chuuya claimed. He liked the freedom to just exist without a label attached to him.

The second person he came out to was Kouyou while she was getting him ready for an undercover mission.

“Hey, um...Ane-san?” Chuuya had asked sheepishly, breaking the comfortable silence between student and mentor.

“Is something wrong? I’m not brushing too hard am I?” Kouyou asked as she stopped brushing Chuuya’s hair to wait for his response.

“Oh no you’re fine! It’s just...um…” Chuuya paused for a second. This was going to be harder than he thought. As he wracked his brain for the right words he glanced up, seeing Kouyou’s gentle smile in the mirror calming him. She was waiting patiently for him to calm down and find his voice again.

It was a comfort Chuuya didn’t realise he needed. He took a deep breath and tried again.

“Ane-san, can you start using he/they pronouns for me? It’s more comfortable that just he/him.” Chuuya finally got out, nervously glancing at the mirror not sure what to expect.

After a few seconds of silence Kouyou’s smile widened and she ruffled Chuuya’s hair a little.

“Of course, Chuuya. Whatever makes you most comfortable.”

If anyone asks, Chuuya did not tear up. He did not!

Though Dazai did raise a curious eyebrow when Chuuya came walking down the hall, face towards the ceiling

“What’s wrong with you, slug?”

“I got a hair in my eye and I don’t feel like ruining my makeup”

Dazai noticed Chuuya was exceptionally more cooperative than usual that day.

Hell, Chuuya was more cooperative than usual even after the mission.

He didn’t yell at Dazai quite as much, he didn’t nag his partner for their poor living conditions, and it was starting to scare Dazai.

Like legitimately scare Dazai, and the executive didn’t like this new feeling

That day Dazai was determined to get to the bottom of why their chibi was acting so strange!

“Did you finally get yourself a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Oh I see! A boyfriend then!”

“What!? No you idiot!” Chuuya said with a flushed face.

It had been like this for the past hour. Dazai and Chuuya were spending one of their rare days off in Yokohama’s shopping district. There was no way Chuuya was going to keep allowing Dazai to live like a rat, so he forced his partner to go shopping for apartment supplies.

Better furniture, tables, chairs, cooking supplies, a lamp or two so the apartment wasn’t so dark, etc. Right now they were looking for a desk for Dazai’s room, in the hopes the brunette might actually do their work for once. It was a small hope, but one that was still there.

“Hmm…” Dazai hummed as they sat on one of the chairs, deep in thought. “Oh I know! You finally got your hands on a bottle of that fancy wine you like so much!”

Dazai was very confident in this guess, an expecting gleam in their one visible eye as they waited for Chuuya to answer.

“No-wait actually Ane-san did give me a bottle last week. But why do you care so much? And come help me with this, damn it!” Chuuya said after a moment, dragging Dazai from their perch on the chair. Dazai had been practically interrogating him since they left, and it was getting on Chuuya’s nerves.

“Because you’ve been acting weird and I want to know why! I miss the chibi that would yell and kick at me when I teased him!” Dazai whined as they crossed their arms over their chest. Despite the childish attitude, they were being serious. Chuuya had known Dazai long enough to tell when the brunette was being serious even if they didn’t sound like it.

“Aw I didn’t know you cared so much, mackerel.” Chuuya said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “If you want me to beat your ass so bad then I’ll be happy to.”

“Are you doing okay today sir?” One of the shop clerks asked as she walked up to the mafioso’s with a smile. Though her smile dropped a little when Chuuya didn’t answer right away.

“Sir? Are you alright?” She asked again, this time with a hint of worry. Noticing this, Dazai turned to Chuuya and elbowed him in the side and glanced back at the worker.

When Chuuya finally turned around and noticed the worker, his face flushed a little in embarrassment.

“Oh, yeah, sorry we’re alright.” Chuuya stuttered out with a nervous chuckle. The worker smiled a little at the teens, nodded, and left them to their shopping.

“Chuuya, are you sure you’re okay?” Dazai asked with a hint of concern. Dazai wasn’t sure why they suddenly felt so concerned, but the Chuuya they knew wasn’t so spacey.

It was at that moment that Chuuya remembered; he never told Dazai about his change in pronouns.

Chuuya’s face paled a little at the thought of telling Dazai. How would Dazai react? How would it change the weird friendship they had formed? Would Dazai even respect his pronouns if he told him?

“Chuuya?”

Chuuya had tried his hardest to prolong telling Dazai for as long as he could that he actually forgot that Dazai didn’t know

Though realistically, Chuuya probably figured Dazai had already known. Dazai wasn’t stupid, and they could read Chuuya like an open book

At least that’s what Chuuya told himself to try and persuade himself that he didn’t need to actually tell his partner.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Dazai, their whole partnership was built on their blind trust in each other.

What he was worried about was Dazai not taking him seriously. Dazai had a tendency to joke and laugh things off, and Chuuya didn’t want this to be one of those situations.

‘He has to find out at some point’ Chuuya thought to himself. Keeping secrets from Dazai was a lot harder than it seemed.

So Chuuya took a deep breath and told Dazai, fully prepared for whatever negative reaction he was going to get from Dazai.

What he wasn’t expecting was for the slight guilt in Dazai’s visible eye as they gave their response.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Chuuya?”

“W-what?” Was all Chuuya could get out. He was too shocked to form any other response.

‘This was not what I was expecting.’

“You should have told me about this sooner, I would have done better to use your preferred pronouns.” Dazai said, angry at themself for not noticing the signs sooner.

Dazai jokes about a lot of things, but someone’s gender identity and sexual orientation were two things that were off limits. They knew personally how hard it is for some people to just be who they are, they didn’t need to be part of the problem.

It would also be kind of hypocritical since Dazai wasn’t even cis gender; they were nonbinary and used they/them pronouns. Though now that Dazai thought about it, they weren’t even sure if they came out to Chuuya either.

Yeah that was something Chuuya was not expecting to come out of his partner's mouth.

Though he honestly wasn’t sure specifically what to expect anyway. Even after a year of working together, Dazai was still a mystery to Chuuya

“You’re not mad or going to laugh or do anything?”

“Wait is that why you never said anything? Chuuya this is a really hard thing for some people to open up about, I would never laugh at that.”

Chuuya did not start crying in the middle of the store. Mostly because Dazai dragged him to the park instead, for a bit more privacy.

Though he wasn’t crying because he was upset or embarrassed. He was crying because he was relieved that Dazai was so accepting of him

Dazai was probably the one person Chuuya was most worried about coming to. And with Dazai’s acceptance, it felt like a weight had been lifted off Chuuya’s shoulders that he didn’t even know was there.

And Chuuya could finally admit that he felt truly free

They did return to their shopping after Chuuya calmed down, and Dazai even suggested going to one of Chuuya’s favourite restaurants for lunch.

Dazai also used lunch as an opportunity to come out to Chuuya. He felt it was only fair.

“Wait you’re nonbinary?”

“Yeah, that's what I just said, isn't it?” Dazai rolled their eye and took another bite of their sandwich.

“Wait if you’re nonbinary why didn’t you ever correct me when I misgendered you!?” Chuuya almost yelled. They were sitting outside, so he didn’t have to be as careful about the volume of his voice.

Dazai just shrugged in response. They weren’t really sure why they never corrected Chuuya. Maybe Dazai just didn’t care, or maybe they were also secretly worried about how Chuuya would react.

“I suppose it didn’t seem like it mattered. You know me, always trying to find new ways to commit suicide, so I guess I didn’t feel the need to put the energy into correcting you.” Dazai finally said nonchalantly.

Chuuya sat in silence for a moment before chuckling to himself. ‘Classic Dazai. Not sharing important information until the end’

“What’s so funny, slug?”

“Oh nothing! Just thinking that makes three of us who aren’t cis; You, me, and Q.” Chuuya said with a small smile.

“Hmm...Oh! We should start a club!” Dazai exclaimed, hitting their palm with their hand. Chuuya just rolled his eyes and sighed.

Over all, the pair elected this a successful mission. They even planned to start their little club when they got back.

After coming out to Dazai, Chuuya seemed a lot happier. He had been noticeably happier and was working a lot more efficiently.

Mori thought the change was interesting, even thinking about asking Kouyou if she knew what was going on. But in the end he figured if Chuuya was getting work done, he didn’t really care as harsh as it may sound.

Chuuya noticed pretty quickly that Dazai was very adamant about correcting anyone who misgendered Chuuya

Especially on his days were he preferred one pronoun set over the other

“You know it’s fine right? You don’t have to act like you’re gonna kill someone every time they slip up.”

“Yes I do, slug! They’ll never learn if you don’t correct them!”

“Threatening to cut out their tongue is not correcting them Dazai.”

Though in hindsight Chuuya shouldn’t have been so surprised. Dazai had done the same thing for Q so why would it be any different for him?

Chuuya did find it funny though that Dazai never corrected anyone on their own pronouns, so Chuuya did it for them

For Chuuya’s birthday, Kouyou gave Chuuya a set of leather bracelets (you know the ones that are like a couple thin strands connected together)

Kouyou explained that they were ‘pronoun bracelets’. Each colour represents which pronouns Chuuya preferred for that day to help the others from accidentally misgendering him

Blue was for he/him, white was for they/them and Grey was for neutral/either pronouns (based off the demiboy flag colours 😌)

Chuuya absolutely adored the bracelets and uses them everyday

He even wears them when he goes undercover. If anyone cared enough to ask, he just said he liked the bracelet. That was usually enough for most people

Chuuya is still oblivious to the fact that Dazai was the one to actually get the bracelets. They just gave them to Kouyou to give to Chuuya for them

After the truce between the Port Mafia and Agency was formed, Chuuya completely forgot that the no one in the Agency knew what his pronouns were

That was until he overheard Dazai absentmindedly correct Atsushi once when he stopped by the office one day.

“When do you think Chuuya-san will get here? He left some stuff here during his last visit.” Atsushi had asked Dazai that morning. Chuuya was supposed to stop by the office to drop off some reports, so Atsushi wanted to make sure the executive picked up the things he forgot.

“They.” Dazai responded with on instinct as they stared at their laptop.

“Huh?”

“They. You said “he left some stuff” but it’s one of the chibi’s they/them days. So what you mean to say is ‘They left some stuff here during their last visit.’” Dazai corrected as if it was something the brunette did every day.

Old habits die hard I suppose

“The chibi can be very particular with their-“ And before Dazai was finished, they received a good smack on the head.

Atsushi yelped in surprise as he noticed the port mafia executive standing behind Dazai, an annoyed look on the ginger's face.

“Would you stop scaring him! This isn’t the Port Mafia you waste of bandages!” Chuuya scolded, putting a hand on their hip and sighing.

“Aw but Chuu, I was only correcting Atsushi so he knew for the future!” Dazai whined from their chair, now rubbing the sore spot from where Chuuya hit the brunette.

“For the last time idiot; Threatening is not the same as correcting!”

“I wasn't threatening Atsushi!”

“So you can look me in the eyes and genuinely tell me that you were not about to say that I would cut out the kids tongue if he misgendered me?” Chuuya asked and watched as Dazai turned around with an innocent smile that they knew all to well was fake, and confidently said;

“I was not going to say that you would cut out Atsushi’s tongue if he misgendered you!”

Chuuya growled as they glared at their partner and ran a hand through their hair. To think Dazai would still be up to their old tricks. Chuuya shouldn’t be surprised.

“You’re such an ass sometimes you know that?” The ginger finally said with an annoyed huff.

Chuuya then glanced towards where Atsushi was standing. The poor kid looked like he was about to pass out; he was shaking slightly, sweat dripped down his face, and he looked like he might cry.

“Hey kid,” Atsushi jumped but nodded. “Forget whatever weird crap Dazai said. I’m not gonna hurt ya’ or anything. It’s not like I ever told you all what my pronouns are, so don’t beat yourself up over it.”

And it seemed that was just the thing Atsushi needed to hear because as soon as Chuuya finished, the weretiger physically relaxed. Atsushi let out a sigh of relief, gave Chuuya a small smile, and apologized.

“Don’t apologize, you didn’t know. Just don’t let this idiot scare you about it.” Chuuya responded, returning Atsushi’s small smile, and then smacking Dazai again.

Chuuya ended up staying at the Agency for an hour longer than planned.

Atsushi was curious about Chuuya’s pronouns, and wanted to know how he would be able to tell which ones he preferred on a specific day

Chuuya was more than happy to explain his pronouns and the bracelets he wore to the Agency members

Though Chuuya noticed Atsushi, Kenji, and Kunikida seemed to have the most slip ups

Kunikida and Atsushi mostly slip up because they forget to look to see which bracelet Chuuya was wearing

Chuuya didn’t mind, it happens every now and again even at the Port Mafia. And they both usually used the right pronouns after their slip up

Though Chuuya once had to spend ten minutes calming down Atsushi after he slipped up and would not stop apologizing.

Kenji on the other hand had some trouble just understanding pronouns in general. He was from the country so it wasn’t something he was exposed to quite as often.

Though luckily for Kenji, he had friends that were more than willing to help him out!

And Chuuya appreciated that Kenji was clearly trying to understand the concept, so a slip up here or there was no big deal to him.

For Chuuya, seeing the people around him actually make an effort to respect his boundaries and pronouns, that’s all that mattered to him.

It made him feel appreciated and wanted for who he was and not for his power which is all he had ever wanted. To be loved, appreciated, and free to just exist as he is.

He just wanted to feel free

Okay so I think this came out really cute! Like I said, I tried to keep it as wholesome as I could. I have a very supportive social circle, so I didn’t feel comfortable trying to write about experiences that I’ve never faced. Though I hope everyone still enjoys my take on He/They Chuuya! And if any of the wording sounds weird please let me know so I can fix it!

I also want to mention that the reason there are more dialogue bits in this post compared to my Shin Soukoku post, is because I felt there were some things that just came across easier in that format.

#he/they chuuya #nonbinary Dazai #chuuya nakahara #osamu dazai #bsd #wholesome bsd headcannons #chuuya nakahara headcanons #atsushi nakajima #kenji miyazawa #kouyou ozaki #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs headcanons #anime #manga #doppo kunikida #yumeno kyusaku #The Port Mafia has a little club for all their nonbinary members change my mind #soukoku #double black

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telehxhtrash · 4 years

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I tend to see a lot of people say that Togashi will leave things uncertain and ambiguous in between Killua and Gon, and while it’s a possibility, I honestly don’t think it’s the most likely thing to happen, and if it did, ambiguous wouldn’t be the correct term to call it.

People often say that Togashi likes to play with ambiguity when it comes to queer matters. Yes, Togashi likes to play with gender. We get to see that through Kite, Pitou and Kalluto in HxH (although its arguable because Kite is definitely not cis). But when Togashi decides that a character is queer, or that there is a relationship going on between two characters, he doesn’t leave it ambiguous.

Togashi has created queer characters in 3 of his main works : Yu Yu Hakusho, Level E and Hunter x Hunter. And everytime he created those characters, he made damn sure that everyone knew that these characters were queer. No room for any sort of ambiguity.

The first examples I have are from Yu Yu Hakusho, with a character named Miyuki, and the other is from Level E, with a character named Kyoko Mikihisa.

For these two characters, Togashi made it so that they emphasized themselves that they were trans. It’s painted extremely clearly, that they were born in the wrong body. There’s literally no room for any sort of ambiguity here.

Togashi could’ve easily kept things ambiguous. There are plenty of ways he could’ve done it, keeping the character’s gender confusing. But he didn’t. He made it EXTRA clear that these characters were trans. This is mostly why I genuinely don’t believe you can describe Togashi’s queer rep as “ambiguous”. Because when the characters tell you themselves that they are, it’s canon. It’s not ambiguous.

Now, sometimes, Togashi likes to play it more subtle. He doesn’t make his characters say “I’m gay” or “I’m trans”, but he finds another way to say it.

In YYH, Togashi wrote a gay character : Itsuki. And he’s canonically gay, because when talking about another man, Sensui, he mentions that he sees him as a lover.

It’s subtle. It’s not ambiguous.

Same thing for Alluka, Alluka never comes on screen and says “I’m a trans girl !”. The reason we know that Alluka is canonically a trans girl is because the Zoldycks insist on misgendering her, while Killua emphasizes that she’s a girl.

And once again, it’s subtle. Not ambiguous. Even though I’ve seen a lot of redditors say that “Alluka’s gender is ambiguous”, Togashi is literally doing his utmost to highlight subtly that yes, Alluka is a trans girl.

But subtlety is not canon’s enemy. Not everything has to be painted clearly for it to be canon. Sometimes, you just have to piece every little clue together yourself. Just because the word “trans” is never canonically stated in HxH concerning Alluka, it doesn’t make her any less of a trans girl. Because as the audience, we UNDERSTOOD from the subtext and from the clash in gendering that she is trans.

So, yes, Togashi likes to be subtle. But subtlety doesn��t make things any less canon.

I’m drifting a bit to non-queer matters, but I also want to talk about two relationships in Togashi’s work that were canonically romantic, but subtle.

The first is Meruem and Komugi. It’s canon that the nature of their relationship was romantic. They never did couple-y things, or even kissed. But it doesn’t make the nature of their relationship ambiguous. Because it was once again, subtle, but drowning in subtext that Togashi deliberately put there.

Togashi paralleled Killua saying that him dying with Gon would be a shinjuu (lover’s suicide), only for it to not happen in the end - but Togashi wanted to throw that word in. So we could have it at the back of our heads. Because when Meruem and Komugi died, it was a shinjuu. It was two lovers dying by the same method with the belief that they’d be united in the afterlife. Meruem only cared about spending his last moments playing with Komugi. They both said that they were only born to experience this moment, of being in pure bliss as they die together. When Komugi replies to Meruem and says that she’ll join him in death, she uses an old phrasing used to accept marriages proposals. They died holding hands.

It was subtle, but canon. Because of all these clues and all the subtext Togashi planted, it is undeniable that their relationship was romantic. And they never kissed, never said “i love you”, but we still know : and that’s the beauty of subtlety.

Because yes, romance can be subtle AND canon.

Another example of a canon romantic relationship that was never officialized by a kiss : Keiko and Yusuke in Yu Yu Hakusho. Correct me if I’m wrong, but while they kissed in the anime, they never kiss in the manga.

But a relationship doesn’t need to be canonized by a kiss. I’ve never seen/read YYH, but while I was doing research, I read that their relationship grew naturally over the course of the manga. That they grew together, were affectionate with each other, but never told each other the nature of their feelings. Until one specific moment towards the end of the manga where this happens:

All of this came naturally. No big confession, just a confirmation of what they both felt. And no kiss either ! No hand holding, no true “romantic” actions, either before or after that chapter. Just feelings. I’m quoting one of the post I used as reference, but “On one hand it's beautiful to finally hear it, but on the other, it's not even surprising. You find yourself caught off guard by how easily you're willing to accept that these two have felt this way throughout the entire series.”

And while it’s subtle, because you’d expect at least a kiss or something, it’s canon and undeniable that their relationship is romantic. It’s clear that the two of them are in love, even if they never kissed. Because it was clear from the beginning that this was where their relationship was going : all the building up to that one moment where they both basically tell each other “oh yeah, btw, i love you”. A simple confirmation of what they both knew, and of what we as readers knew too.

I guess my point is that Togashi can insist on the nature of his characters and relationships. He insisted that Miyuki, Mikihisa and Alluka were trans. But sometimes he also likes to be subtle, and not put everything plainly. But the subtlety doesn’t discredit its the canon legitimacy.

Now, onto what it means for Killua and Gon.

I emphasized that Togashi liked to highlight when his characters are queer. There are absolutely NO DOUBTS that Miyuki and Alluka are trans girls, Mikihisa a trans man and that Itsuki was gay. It’s in canon. But they were all brought up differently, and it was either confirmed by them saying it themselves or by the context and subtext surrounding their queer identity.

But Togashi never left it ambiguous. We always had canon confirmation that they were queer. What I’m saying is, there’s a very, very high probability that Killua is gay and in love with Gon. We’ve seen it in the incredible amount of subtext deliberately placed by Togashi. And like I said, Togashi never left the nature of his queer characters ambiguous. So it’s highly likely that Togashi will confirm in canon at some point that Killua is gay.

Now, while it’s likely Togashi will canonize Killua being queer plainly by either him saying it or subtext (just like Alluka), it doesn’t mean that his relationship with Gon will be canonized plainly too.

I mentioned earlier that Komugi/Meruem and Keiko/Yusuke’s relationships were subtle, while undeniably romantic. So maybe this will be the case for Killua and Gon’s relationship too. It looks like Togashi’s style for writing romance is show, not tell, thus making it a possibility that it’ll be the same for Killua and Gon.

But I can assert with 100% certainty that Togashi will NOT leave their relationship ambiguous. Maybe it’ll be subtle, but NOT ambiguous. Just like Meruem/Komugi and Yusuke/Keiko.

Killua and Gon’s relationship is the backbone of HxH, and it’s very clear that Togashi’s intent from the beginning of the story was to canonize it as a love story. When Togashi wrote Killua, he incorporated elements of Tanabata, a legend about two lovers, in his story, and made Tanabata his birthday. Togashi queer coded Killua from the beginning, and I honestly doubt that he would never canonize it, when it was his intent to queer code him from the beginning. He made the both of them have an extremely deep relationship, being each other’s most important person. Combine this with all the subtext, and yeah, it’s pretty clear that HxH is a love story.

So yes, Togashi wouldn’t leave ambiguous something he planned from the beginning of the story. Especially since HxH is his first chance at writing a manga and being able to do everything he wants with it. Especially when Togashi’s gay manga got turned down 30 years ago.

I mentioned Togashi never leaving stuff ambiguous, but rather either putting it plainly or more subtly. And honestly, I’m thinking it’s going to be a mix of both for Killua and Gon. A mix of subtlety and undeniable proof of the romantic nature of their relationship. Exactly like Yusuke and Keiko’s relationship.

I feel like Killua and Gon’s relationship perfectly mirrors Yusuke and Keiko’s, and I can totally picture it following the same patterns. By having their relationship grow even deeper as they reunite, with no explicit romantic gestures, just deep, deep feelings. Until ultimately, they both confirm it one way or another.

I could literally picture Gon turning to Killua, telling him out of the blue something they’ll do when they get married, Killua being confused but Gon saying something like “Well, I wanna get married to you Killua. Don’t you want to?” and Killua almost choking but saying that yeah, he’d like that. Plain and simple. No romantic gesture. No kiss, no hand holding, no feelings confession under the stars. Just a mutual assessment of what they both already knew.

But honestly, I’m saying all this to try and be objective, but I’m not in Togashi’s head. Togashi could also very much go absolutely crazy and make Killua and Gon share a kiss, hold hands, affirm their love out loud, Because it’s his first chance at being free to do what he wants with his manga. And because he’s been wanting to draw a gay manga for a while, he might want to emphasize that HxH is queer.

Especially when it seems like Togashi likes to incorporate shoujo elements in his work.

And as @/sincerelysamedt mentioned in her wonderful post, queer relationships are often dismissed as platonic in media, and that it’s important to overplay it to canonize it efficiently. And Togashi is probably aware of this. Hence Killua’s stuttering, blushing, the constant gay poetic lines Gon tells Killua about how he’s so glad he met him, Killua’s inner monologues comparing Gon to light itself, multiple characters highlighting their mutual love, a date under the stars where they mutually affirm their want to stay together and travel the world while they both blush.........Togashi didn’t have to go THIS hard, but he did.

These panels highlight the difference between the subtle relationships I talked about above. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think Togashi represented Yusuke or Keiko having internal monologues about how they wanted to stay with the other forever or poetically comparing each other to light. It proves that while Togashi likes to play it subtle, he's also not afraid to put extremely cliché shoujo tropes and heartfelt moments in his narrative too. Maybe he’s aware that internalized homophobia might pose a problem to the narrative he’s trying to convey, and thus he might be enclined to overplay it.

When you keep in mind that Togashi most likely wrote Killua and Gon with the intent of making their relationship a love story, you can see that he’s never really written with the intent of being ambiguous or even subtle, providing us with multiple intense scenes of mutual devotion. And that’s one thing that’s leading me to believe he wouldn’t shy away from delivering highly emotional scenes that would canonize their mutual love. Because their relationship has never truly been portrayed as subtle, or ambiguous, it’s just.... developing.

So yeah, it could go either way ! Either Togashi will decide to paint it subtly like every relationship he’s painted in the past, or he’ll either decide to go all out and maybe show us an extremely heartfelt confession under the stars, maybe even an on-screen kiss (the latter option being highly likely considering all the very emotional scenes between them we’ve already had) - (EDIT : i wrote a post on why i believe there’ll be an explicit confession if you want to read it !)

But one thing is certain : it will never stay ambiguous, because Togashi has never painted any of his queer characters or the relationships between his characters as ambiguous, Subtle, yes. Ambiguous, no.

#hxh #hxh meta #meta #my meta #killugon #ok hi hello this is my attempt at trying to stay optimistic #full disclaimer that i am not togashi and therefore i dont know wtf is gonna happen #but im pretty sure that togashi wouldnt leave this ambiguous #when u look at his past history and writing style and the context of hxh #when u see how apeshit he went with all the romantic scenes in hxh #imo killugon is not ambiguous its literally just developing #and togashi has NEVER left major relationships ambiguous in his works #he wouldnt leave the backbone of his manga ambiguous #especially when hes planned to canonize it from the beginning #hes just taking his time to portray it in a very heartfelt and natural way #but i have no doubt in my mind that by the end of hxh itll be undeniable #just like his past portrayal of relationships and queer characters #im HOPEFUL #and he might do like his wife did : emphasize the canon legitimacy in an interview

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four-rabbit · 3 years

Text

Here lies Roman García Lopez

Roman is not dead, calm down

This is just a small oneshot from the ghost au about Roman coming out as trans to Remus when they were teenagers.

Warnings: swearing, hospitals, self-deprecation, misgender, mentions of transphobia, talks of death

Obs: in some descriptions I'll be refering to Remus and Roman with she/her pronouns, but thats specifically when I'm describing their thoughts and they are referring to themselves or each other with those pronouns, since Remus didn't know he was trans here and Roman is coming out. When I'm not describing their thoughts I'll be referring to them solely by he/him pronouns.

If you tag this as r*mrom I'll punch you

The twins used to be best friends. They would play in the backyard and braid each other's hair and laugh and cry and almost forget all the ways that the world was cold and merciless.

So so merciless.

The Duke analyzed his nails as if they were the most interesting thing he had ever seen and the silence was so dense it could be cut with a knife. He wanted to talk, he really wanted to. He wanted to talk about the last movie he watched and gossip about their classmates and make jokes that were questionable to say the least and wanted to see her sister laugh and look alive again. But what would she say? At this point, what did they have in common? What could she do? Open her mouth just to throw all that filthy that was inside her mind at her poor sister? Talk about her life and about how she was a disgusting piece of garbage? Ruin those few hours that they had together? Yeah, as their mother would always say, if you have nothing nice to say just shut up.

The Duke felt like he never had anything nice to say.

"How is school going?" The one in the hospital bed started. Panic dominated The Duke's eyes and he didn't move for a good ten seconds, looking like he wasn't even breathing until he shrugged.

"As shitty as always, you know. The usual stuff"

"I wish I was there" The Princess sighed.

"Nah, you don't, it's the most boring thing ever, I got a shitton of homework and also tomorrow I got a fucking chemistry test and I don't even know if I'm going to study, you got it easy, dude" as soon as those words left his mouth he regretted it "No, I'm kidding, that was stupid, this sucks too I know, but if I could I would just leave school, I mean who cares?"

"You can't do that. School is important"

The Duke didn't say anything. He had a lot of answers but none of them were nice. And he wanted to be nice to The Princess, at least. He had lost everybody else, even Virgil, even Virgil, she was not going to lose her sister too.

"Why did you call me?" Finally said.

"What?"

"Dad said that you wanted to talk to me. Specifically. Why?"

"I have to ask you for a favor"

"What is it? Yes, I can get you drugs" The Princess raised an eyebrow at his brother.

"What? I'm sure it would make the hospital more interesting, no judgments."

"No. No, it's not that" he was so tense and that was stressing the Duke out. He closed his mouth shut because when he was nervous he rambled and when he rambled he always ended up saying the worst possible things. The Princess took a breath as if it was a battle to take the words out of his throat.

"I'm afraid that I'm going to die"

"A lot of people are" said before he could contain himself. That should have earned at least a chuckle from the Princess but he didn't make a sound.

"No. No. I mean- what I mean is…" he decided to just rip it off like a band aid "I feel like I’m going to die in a few days. I think-"

"Bullshit!" The Duke snapped without warning, startling his brother. "You have no fucking right to say that!" Is it really that easy to make him cry?

"It's true! I- I can feel it, okay? Death is following me"

"Death has always followed you, you stupid fuck, you're like a godamn death magnet!"

"Yeah but it's different now, I- look, how I know doesn't matter, I need you to do something for-"

"I'm not doing shit for you!" Ok that's a lot of emotion for someone who was completely numb the entire week, Duke's body has grown unused to feelings apparently, as he was shaking and burning and screaming and crying and wanting to curl up in a ball and die.

"Just listen-"

"Fuck you!" The Duke covered his ear to show that he wasn't going to listen but also suddenly because everything was too much. Too much noise, too much light, too much, too much. "I'm going to tell your doctor and she's going to say that's bullshit because that's bullshit you can't just die!" Yelled at the top of his lungs. She couldn't lose her sister, no, no, everyone but her.

"I need you to change my name in my gravestone!" said as loudly as his brother, sitting up. That took The Duke by surprise and he uncovered his ears in confusion.

"What?"

"When I die, mom and dad will pay for a gravestone and its going to have a name on it"

"You're not-"

"Fucking listen to me! I don't want to die too, for fucks sake, but I need to be ready when it happens!" The Princess finally snapped in his despair to be listened to. His brother stopped and seemed to consider his options until, slowly, sat down again.

"What do you mean, [...]?" he said his brother's deadname.

"Exactly that. That name. It's not my name"

"Are you high?"

"Look" he ran his hand through his hair, frustrated "I had a lot of time to think. I- I did some research and… I- I'm not a girl" The Duke didn't say anything. For once in his life he had no idea what to say. "Yeah. I've always felt like that. Like something was… off. Wrong. That someone made a mistake when-" he gestured toward his body "I'm not telling mom and dad. They wouldn't understand, they never understand shit. But I know you will, sister"

"Wait, hold the fuck up, what are you saying? If you're not a girl, what the fuck are you then?" The Princess swallowed, scared to say it out loud. There would be no coming back if he did it. He raised his hand to compliment the teenager in front of him, shaking from head to toe.

"I'm- Roman. Nice to meet you." he was crying already, trying to not let his voice fail him "I'm your brother, I'm a trans man and I don't want to die just to be remembered by the wrong name"

Trans man. Trans. A word that was known but still sounded like a secret. Forbidden.

The Duke looked at his brother's hand. Then he looked at his face, with his long hair and tears and all that fear in his eyes.

And he understood, that was what scared him the most.

"Something was off. Something was wrong. Someone made a mistake"

"I don't want to be remembered by the wrong name"

He understood every single word on a deep personal level, he knew that despair, that fear.

He shaked his brother's hand, who immediately melted in relief.

"Roman. You're going to live." Said with that same caring voice that he used when they were kids and Roman had nightmares and he would sing lullabies completely out of tune until his brother fell asleep, delicately cleaning his brother's tears. “You're going to live and you're going to make sure that mom and dad remember you right. I promise"

"But what if I-"

"No! No" The Duke interrupted, not allowing his brother to finish that phrase, not again. "You know what. You're coming with me" announced, starting to look through the closet for some clothes his brother could use.

"... what?"

"We are leaving this shithole"

"I can't leave the hospital [...]!" deadname.

"I don't want to be remembered by the wrong name"

The Duke closed his eyes and when he turned back to his brother he was smiling almost maniacally.

"Yes, you can" he found some sweater pants and a black tshirt "Here, put this on. This place is fucking you up. Mom is fucking you up, this is her fault. We are going out and you're going to live. You're going to live" an idea came to his mind "Do you want to cut your hair?" Roman looked at the clothes on his hands. Then at the teenager looking at him full of expectation. Deep down Roman knew. Staying there was not helping. It was making things worse, he knew even deeper down. And if he was dying he wanted to die by his sister's side.

"Yes. I want to cut my hair" admitted. He didn't hate his long hair, it was pretty and brushing it was relaxing. But he hated how it made everyone think he was a girl. "But mom will be pissed"

"What doesn't piss that woman off?" Exclaimed exasperated and Roman opened the smallest grin.

"Yesterday they gave me strawberry juice instead of orange juice and she threw an entire fucking tantrum"

"Exactly. If she was a little bit whiter she would be a textbook Karen" that made Roman giggle.

"She would. Are we actually doing this?"

"Of course we're! Now get ready, Princes- Princey" Roman smiled widely.

"I like Princey"

"I thought you would" Roman got dressed and The Duke gave him his black hoodie.

"So you won't get recognized" explained.

"I'm sure nobody is going to try to arrest me if they see me sneaking out, thank you very much. Also what was the last time you washed this? It smells like shit" actually Roman would never comment on it out loud but his sister was generally a mess. With hair that wasn't brushed in days and wasn't washed in an even longer time, smudged make up all over her face and dirty baggy clothes. If only he had connected the dots before it was too late.

"I'm sure you'll survive" replied sharply, opening the door.

The hoodie didn't help.

" What are you doing here Ms. Garcia? Do you want anything?" The first nurse that saw them was quick to ask.

"Ahn…" The Duke opened his mouth to explain. Then close it again.

"I just wanted to take some air, my sister came to visit me and we thought it would be cool to go outside real quick" Roman came to rescue him.

"Your sister…" slowly her gaze went to the other teenager "Oh, you. I'm not sure I can allow that. Not without your mother's permission"

"You can come with us, then! My mom wouldn't like to know that you're keeping me stuck in my room. Like a prisoner" the nurse looked worried. Their mom had a reputation around the hospital and it wasn't a good one.

"Just five minutes, okay?"

"Wonderful!" Roman winked in his brother's direction, who opened a smile and they were both guided toward the front of the hospital, where there was a small decorative garden.

"What now?" The Duke whispered, gesturing toward the nurse with his head, she was way too close. Roman looked around and his eyes stopped at one specific point.

"There"

"What?"

"There's a cat"

"I don't see anything"

"Its because its not alive" the animals souls were the easiest to attract and even control. "Her" Roman said in an almost sing-song voice. The cat tilted its head, an empty hole in the place where its left eye was supposed to be and, without warning, threw itself at the nurse, emitting a meow that from her perspective came out of thin air and made the poor woman scream in surprise.

"Now!" And Roman started running. His brother only stopped to giggle before running too. When she noticed that the kids were missing they were already far away.

"Fuck, that was fun!" Roman exclaimed as he recovered from the run, still breathing with some difficulty. His brother enjoyed the feeling for a little longer. He almost felt alive for a minute.

"Of course it was, it was my idea"

"I mean I was the one who fooled the nurse, all you did was stutter"

"Oh, shut up. It's not my fault everyone likes you best"

"Everyone is stupid. You're the cooler twin"

"Don't you come at me with your compliments!" Roman laughed, a genuinely laugh that filled his brother with happiness and warmth.

"Right. What do we do now? I'm still totally down for that haircut"

"Well first of all we're going to steal some scissors because I'm totally broke-"

"Oh my god!" Roman exclaimed in disbelief "My own sister! Wanting to make me a criminal!"

If you get to be brother why do I have to be sister?

Remus ignored that thought for the time being.

"You're not going to regret it! We can steal some chocolate too!" replied, putting his arm around his brother's shoulders. Roman rolled his eyes.

"Oh my life would be so dull without you" The one that would call himself Remus in the future smiled. And I wouldn't be alive without you, thought to himself.

#roman sanders #remus Sanders #creativitwins #ghost au #rabbit writes #fanfic #cw swearing #tw hospital #tw death mention

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kevv · 4 years

Text

a goodbye letter- abandoning current social media

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

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

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

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

#goodbye. i hope to be a better version of myself the next time we meet.

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thechildoflightning · 5 years

Text

Optical Phenomena

Title: Optical Phenomena

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: Background LAMP/CALM

part of the jksf verse

Summary:

The point was Roman was gay. And he knew that. He had known that since he was a child.

Which was why at thirty years old he was struggling so hard with his identity.

Because Roman knew he was gay, it had never been a question. But he wasn’t sure if he was a boy.

Warnings: Gender Dysphoria

[ao3 link]

Optical Phenomena

Roman was gay.

He knew that from the moment his tiny brain could comprehend contemplating even somewhat complex thoughts. It just was. Roman didn't even remembering considering if the word fit or if he liked boys. He just knew. He was gay.

As he grew older he wondered if coming out had been so simple to him because of the fact that he had two dads. Eventually, he had come to the conclusion that it was probably partially why, but not completely. Having two dads was his normal. But he knew that for almost every other kid, it wasn't normal. His dads gave him an opportunity to be who he was at home, but he didn’t always have the same freedom outside of it. Biggest case in point- moving from California to Utah.

Roman was around straight adults just as he was around gay adults. So maybe it influenced the fact that he knew he was gay at such a young age but maybe it didn’t. Who really knew?

The point was Roman was gay. And he knew that. He had known that since he was a child.

Which was why at thirty years old he was struggling so hard with his identity.

Because Roman knew he was gay, it had never been a question. But he wasn’t sure if he was a boy.

It was kind of ironic really, because looking back on it he never really felt like a boy. As a child who knew he was gay and was raise by parents who weren’t straight themselves, he knew that the default mode of cishet wasn’t really that accurate.

So to not have realized by now was genuinely ironic to him.

Plus, one of his partners was trans. He had seen Patton go through much of this process. Patton had top surgery before they had ever met, but Roman had seen him inject himself with hormones, he’d seen Patton struggle with dysphoria, he’d seen the chest scars slowly fade. He’d seen Patton debate about bottom surgery.

His sister was trans. If he had seen a good portion of Patton’s transition, he had seen even more of Esther’s. He had seen her cry when her body felt wrong. Had her express her bittersweetness when people pointed out her identicalness to her twin, Kenny. He knew how she had struggled to want to be connected to her twin but not look quite like him because ‘male’ didn’t fit her. He had helped her learn how to tuck; he had literally practiced on himself to make sure she was doing it safely and correctly.

Bismillah, how hadn’t he realized.

Roman, contrary to popular belief, was not oblivious and uneducated. He knew what trans was. He just didn’t ever realize it could apply to him.

Did it apply to him?

That hit him much in the same way being gay did. It sort of just happened. There was no deep internet search. No person to introduce the concept to him. No epic realization.

One day, Roman just woke up and realized ‘I’m not a boy.’

There was no grand theatrics, which coming from Roman, was surprising. But Roman had never been one for grand theatrics surrounding his identity. He just was. He had always just been.

And he wasn’t a boy.

He could look at the history. He could dig up the history of gender dysphoria and euphoria. He could attempt to pinpoint the moments that proved it. He could search for ‘hey that moment fourteen years ago when that person didn’t realize I was a boy? That felt nice.’ He could reach deep into his memories to find inner battles of expectations of male behavior that had bothered him- not even due to the behavior itself but more because the term ‘male’ that preceded it.

But that wasn’t the point, because Roman didn’t need proof. He wasn’t trying to prove anything to anyone. Being trans was an identity for himself, given to himself. No one else could decide that for him.

But was he trans? Did he identify that way? What did it mean? And more importantly, what did it mean to him?

Roman wasn’t a boy.

Which then immediately led to the follow up question ‘well then what am I?’

Because he knew he wasn’t a girl either, that wasn’t a question.

So non-binary then? Trans and non-binary? Genderfluid? Bigender? Agender? Demi-girl, boy, gender?

Therein lied the question.

And for the first time in his life, Roman questioned his identity. The very concept made him uncomfortable. He had never had to question his identity before and always knew he was. He didn’t like question himself.

So almost as immediately as he had started, he decided he was done questioning.

Because he didn’t really want to question his identity. He didn’t need a perfect phrase to fit him. He could understand that some people did. But that wasn’t him. That had never been him.

Roman was the kid who knew who he was.

Of course, he found himself questioning things about himself on more than one occasion. But it always was subtle things, like what color nail polish did he want to wear that week. Or which role he wanted to try out for the school play. Roman had never, not once questioned his identity. He just didn’t always realize what parts of it were.

So Roman settled on what he knew.

He was gay.

That was first and foremost, and wasn’t going to change. Because Roman might not be exactly a boy. But the term gay was his label. A label he had worn for years and felt comfortable with. And some people’s labels changed overtime. And that was okay. But that wasn’t Roman.

He wasn’t a boy.

Second, and more recent, causing him to pause and consider the implications of what that meant. Because being labeled as a boy, or man, or male felt wrong. But so did being a girl. Roman didn’t into the binary.

Which lead him to his next conclusion, one that had been a long time coming.

He was genderqueer.

Genderqueer sat right with him. It was vague enough that Roman dodn’t have to slice and dice who he was. Specific identities made others comfortable. But Roman didn’t need that. He liked the idea of a broad term that fully encompassed who he was. None of the other labels fit that for him. Genderqueer did.

Other people might decide that made him non-binary, or trans, or whatever. Other people who felt the same way as he did might identify differently than he did. That was perfectly valid and acceptable as well.

But honestly? Roman didn’t care about all that. If those were the labels that seemed to fit best and made other people happy, then that was fine by him. But Roman had never been fond of constricting labels.

Labels provided Roman with structure, but he didn’t want to build them enough to have them box in him in. Roman didn’t want anything more specific than “not exactly in the boy category.” And genderqueer fit that for him.

He used he/him pronouns.

That had been around longer than even the gay bit. The words and terminology had surrounded him for life.

He knew he could change them anytime he liked. After all, he had seen his sister go through that very change. He’d seen friends, families, enemies go through that change. He had seen Patton misgendered.

In addition, Roman himself was an actor, he’d play whatever part came up, no matter the supposed gender. To him, pronouns were just a terminology. Terminology that was to be respected. And for some that terminology was a vital part of their identity.

Personally, Roman didn’t really care for it. So he would continue to use he/him pronouns. Not male pronouns though, because he wasn’t male. Just he/him.

He would not be using gendered language to refer to himself.

This was the newest piece of knowledge he had granted himself with, and he was quite happy with it. Because to Roman, pronouns were just a phrase, unimportant and insignificant. But gendered language? Now that was a classifier. That restricted Roman, put him in a box.

Many people liked boxes, especially when they were able to choose them for themselves. They provide comfort and stability, a way to determine themselves and find similarities in others. But Roman was not a box person. Therefore, he would not be using anymore gendered language for himself.

He was gay. He wasn’t a boy. He was genderqueer. He used he/him pronouns. He didn’t use gendered language.

Those were the five things he knew. Now it was time to implement the knowledge.

This meant coming out, something that Roman had never done in his life. He didn’t see why now had to be any different. So he didn’t. Come out that is.

“Person,” Roman corrected gently when Logan mentioned something about him being a man.

“Spouse or partner,” he said another time when hearing Patton refer to him as his husband.

“Sibling,” he cut in when Virgil mentioned that he seemed like a good older brother.

And that was it. A few nudges at home and is husbands had completely switched over.

There was even a short time when it went too far and they started questionably placing in different pronouns, doing their absolute best to be supportive with limited information.

“She?” Virgil once wavered in conversation. Roman shook his head.

“He,” he replied.

“My spouse, uh- they?” Logan tried.

“He,” Roman was quick to confirm.

“Let me check with Roman, h-” Patton cut himself off, turning to look at Roman.

“He,” Roman confirmed.

It wasn’t an overnight switch, but they all caught on quickly. And Roman never came out.

Work took a bit longer, and he wasn’t quite sure he ever would get everyone switched over consistently. Luckily, the term director was gender neutral, so the main term used to refer to Roman didn’t need to be changed. Plus, he had Deceit on his side to support his transition.

The last people to be informed were his family. For some people, that could be the scariest part. The idea of rejection from people who were supposed to love you unconditionally was a building fear in many. Roman considered himself privileged to have avoided that fear. But they were still last to know.

He hadn’t avoided telling his family at all, things had just gotten busy and he in all honesty forgotten to tell them. He only really remembered when he heard his sister wavering on terminology for him, probably hearing something somewhere down the grapevine from one of his husbands. His solution for them was memes, again, with no explanation. Within a week they had grasped the concept and his new identity.

And that was it.

A coming out that wasn’t every really a coming out.

The next pride they went to, he wore not only the rainbow, but the green white and purple of the Genderqueer flag. Because that’s what fit.

He may never have had this amazing story of coming out. No story about how he was accepted unconditionally or rejected completely when he uttered those words. No story of practicing what he was going to say in the mirror. No story of blurting it out in the heat of the moment. No story of sliding a slip of paper across the table with words.

Roman didn’t do that.

Coming out happened in billions of different ways, and most people tell it with a story, a story of whenever they first uttered the words to others. Or maybe a story of when they first admitted it to themselves.

Roman’s story had never been that. It had never been a turning point in his life or a big deal.

He just was.

That was enough for him.

Taglist Below

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@mewithanie @eddies-spaghetti @lemonyellowlogic

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d3sertbaby · 5 years

Text

To Whom It May Concern: Everyone is entitled to an opinion, you are allowed to believe whatever you may wish. You’re allowed to think that transwomen aren’t women, you’re allowed to think that transmen aren’t men, you’re allowed to think trans folk are just looking for attention, running away from something, or trying to invade spaces of the opposite gender. You are allowed to think, to breathe, and nobody should wish anything poor upon you. You are a human being, no opinion, phrase, nor anything else can change that. However, it doesn’t mean everyone else will agree with you.

Trans folk calling anyone who disagrees with them a terf, or a transphobe is not right in my eyes, but to others, there’s no problem with it. Letting all transwomen into any women’s only space is not right in my eyes, but some people think it is. It’s all a matter of opinion, but when it comes down to things like someone just showing pride, accepting who they are, and loving themself? No matter what, I will never be accepting of someone who thinks that way. You still deserve to live, you’re still allowed to have opinions, but that doesn’t mean that I like you. Being polite is one thing, being rude is a completely different realm. Having a calm, mature conversation with someone can mean the world to them, you might even transfer them over as well. Out of my own experience, my past actions, I can tell you now, calling someone a moron, or just outright insulting others will get you nowhere. Obviously, this is primarily aimed at the trans discourse community, but it falls under pretty much any.

That being said, I would greatly appreciate it if anyone who is a terf, radfem, or anything of the sorts to actually read through what I’m going to say. I’d also encourage you to even interact, though not with mindless hate, and instead your side of the argument. I know no matter what, I’m going to get negative things. I accept that fate. It’s completely fine, even if stressful and saddening. I am going to put this under a cut, just because it’s super long and I don’t want to interrupt anyone’s scrolling.

I am a transwoman. I have lived my entire life in complete and utter shame. I have copious amounts of internalized transphobia, and I own up to it. However, logging onto Tumblr, only to find that people are suddenly insisting that others like me are vile, disgusting, and just downright terrible, only worsens said transphobia. I’ve grown since I was younger, I’ve learned to accept my identity and who I am, but it’s so incredibly hard to see people denying that identity, calling other people in the same situation as me men. You might think that transwomen are fetishists, or trying to break into women’s spaces, and sure, some probably are, but not all of us are like that.

Most transwomen struggle immensely in their daily lives, and I must admit, every single time I see someone use “Suck my girl dick” as an argument or insult, it hurts me. It triggers my dysphoria. It reminds me that until I have the courage to come out, if I ever come out, everyone is going to see me as a man. The internet is one of the few places I’ve actually ever felt safe. I grew up in a house of boys, with a single father who were so hooked on ideologies that I got bullied and ridiculed for being girly, for liking ‘girl things’ so standing in front of a mirror, teary eyed and anguished, realizing the reason I hate my body, that I’ve always hated myself is because I’m not a man is incredibly painful. It’s scary, it’s scary realizing you’re different, the type of person that your family continuously mocked. It doesn’t feel good.

Then the pain continues, it worsens and grows. It’s like a disgusting monster growing and itching to get out. You have to shower? You end up sitting in the tub and sobbing for an hour because you look down and get disgusted with yourself. Change clothes? You panic, you panic and wheeze because you look in your dresser and see only things from the men’s aisle, you look down at your chest and get that sinking sense of wrong all over again. Have to go to the bathroom in public? You feel like you’re going to be sick, walking into the room clearly labeled for men, and it’s even worse when you’re met with urinals.

It builds up. All that pent up agony stacks and stacks until you break.

I’ve broken several times. At times I got angry, I took it out on others. At others? I got sad. I got so unbelievably sad. Times where my dysphoria have broken me have been the worst in my life. Dysphoria is not a matter of just feeling connected to the opposite sex, of liking colors ‘girls’ should like. It’s painful. It’s one of the worst thing’s I’ve ever experienced. It charges depression, it fuels hatred, it makes you cynical and in a constant state of wrong.

It’s not just your junk, or your face, or your voice either. Most people with dysphoria I’ve found hate a whole lot more than that. I could just be sitting, trying to relax, only to find that my hands look too big, my legs are too built and blocky, my torso is too straight, my wrists, oh god my wrists. Everything. It’s everything. Then, in the one place you feel safe, someone points out that you, you of all people have a penis, and therefore, no matter how much you try to pass, you have a penis. You do not have a vulva, no uterus, no breasts. You are a man.

You don’t realize how much damage you do as an outsider. You don’t realize that organ you’re pointing out has made someone want to die. And that’s okay. You don’t understand and that’s not your fault, but it’s different when someone expresses that they are a woman, and you point it out.

That, that is being a jerk.

Terfs with good intentions are fine by me. I believe that transwomen shouldn’t be allowed in some places, that rape centers for women should not be shut down for stupid reasons, that some people do things and it damages women.

But if you purposefully misgender someone, that’s where I draw the line.

If it’s out of ignorance, sure, that’s okay. If it’s to be a jerk and trigger their dysphoria, it is not. I have suffered my whole life, I do indeed have problems that radfems like to ignore, it is not because I am connected to women.

It’s because being a man makes me wish I never existed.

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ripleyvansant · 6 years

Text

LOCATION: Cade’s Room DATE: November 21st TIME: 4:45 PM TRIGGERS: gender stereotypes, internalized transphobia / transphobia (kinda?), misgendering (kinda?), addiction, food, panic attack, homophobia MENTIONS: @cadxmitchell, @nguyenalanna, @averyneel, @caseyhxndrix, @inoahthingor2 CLOSED

The road trip had been fun, even if it was long. Ripley enjoyed spending some quality time with Cade, Alanna, Casey, and Neel. He vowed to spend some more time with the two Foxes and Alanna, though would probably give it some time. It was almost strange not being in North Carolina for Thanksgiving. The Van Sant family had lots of traditions that he’d missed. His moms usually woke them up very early to watch the parade and Ripley helped peel potatoes and with some of the prep work while they watched the parade. They’d laugh and watch the performances and joke around until it was over. Then his siblings usually watched the dog show while he helped momma in the kitchen, which usually was filled with shenanigans, including wearing the net that came with the turkey as a hat, which always made his parents laugh. He didn’t want to admit to missing his parents, but he did. Ripley didn’t know how long he’d be mad at them and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stomach seeing him at Christmas if Marshall was invited to that too. He didn’t think he’d be able to stand not seeing his parents for that long. But he was trying not to think about that.

It was nice in a way to not feel some of that pressure that he felt at the thought of seeing Marshall. John and Lisa were also very nice and Ripley didn’t feel like he deserved any of their amazingness after leaving his own family on a holiday that was about thankfulness. His own family had done so much for him over the past three years that he appreciated them more than anything. Of course, Ripley told them that more than once a year, but as long as there was a holiday for it, he made it extra known that he loved them. There was just a gnawing feeling in his stomach at facing Marshall for a second time. He might have fooled Pip into believing that he’d changed and somehow his moms, but Ripley knew. He’d never change. He’d always be that asshole that left their family. To Ripley, he’d always be an ugly man, who thought hate was the right way to raise his children rather than accepting them for who they were. How any of his siblings could stomach being in the same room was beyond him.

As much as he tried not to think about them throughout the day, Ripley’s mind wandered to what they’d be doing at this time. He kept glancing down at his phone, thinking that maybe one of them would call or text him, but his phone remained silent. He knew his family was just getting through with dinner in a little, since they ate early so Pip and Kora could watch the football game. With a lull in the cooking, Ripley took a moment to sneak away for a moment alone with his thoughts. He put on a smiling face and probably was fooling most everyone -- probably not Cade, but everyone else. Ripley sat on the edge of Cade’s bed, looking around. There had always been a stark difference in their two sides and now it was even more apparent how different their tastes were.

Somehow, they still managed to get along with each other, for the most part. He bit down on his lip and pulled out his phone, almost tempted to call home. He just needed to hear his mom’s voice, it had been too long. There was a notification on his phone someone had tagged him in a photo album. He clicked on it, wondering if maybe someone had taken a photo of him here and he was just seeing the notification now. Or maybe Noah had tagged him in something since they were currently sending each other ridiculous memes over the week. But it wasn’t any of that. No, it was far worse than that and his heart almost dropped out of his chest when he saw who the notification was from.

MARSHALL VAN SANT has tagged you in an album.

Would this man just leave him alone? Ripley thought he at least deserved one break from whatever bullshit his father seemed to want to drag him into. He clicked the notification. There were pictures of his family throughout the day. Pip reading something on the couch. His moms looking at each other lovingly in the kitchen, while his momma was covered in flour. Kora leaning against the door frame looking to see how much more there was to do in the kitchen. Hedwig smiling at his phone in his room. Etta and Ren cuddling on the couch together while watching the dog show. All of it picture perfect. Without him. And one final photograph of all of them together, Hedwig barely in the frame because he’d probably used the timer on his camera. Ripley felt like he’d been punched in the chest and he felt himself tearing up because fuck Marshall being there, he missed his family.

But it was the caption of the photograph that caught his attention.

I’m thankful for my family for giving me a second chance. @koravs @notanowl @ettasjames @renjames @pipgames. I also want to give a shout out to @ripleyvansant who couldn’t make it this evening since he’s busy studying astrophysics and cheering for the Palmetto State Foxes 🦊. I’m incredibly proud of you for going after your dreams and can’t wait to catch you at the next game. I know it’s been a tough couple of years for you and I couldn’t be prouder of you, my son.

Ripley nearly fell off the bed out of shock. His initial reaction was anger at Marshall for even posting that. But to say he was proud of Ripley? When the last time they’d spoken, he’d basically told Ripley he was to feminine. When the last time they’d spoken, Marshall had been disgusted at Ripley’s sexuality. When Marshall had treated him like dirt only a minute after showing up? How dare this man try and weasel his way into their lives again. But the anger quickly faded into something else, an emotion Ripley hadn’t felt in a very long time. Panic? He took a deep breath, slowly, through his nose trying to calm himself down. His chest felt tight and he didn’t know why. There was a word echoing in the back of his mind that he just couldn’t shake.

Son.

Ripley curled into a ball on the bed, closing his eyes. Why did that word feel so wrong? Ripley kept taking deep breaths: in, out, in, out. The technique that had worked during therapy for so many other people, but his brain just couldn’t shake the feeling of discomfort. His moms had called him that before and he’d never questioned it. So why now? Was it because of Marshall? Or was it something else? Ripley had always been comfortable with himself. His identity that changed slightly depending on who he spoke to and the time of day was comfortable. Up until Palmetto, Ripley hadn’t ever thought about who he was when he was himself. If he stripped down to just... Ripley. Because it had been so long since he’d been just Ripley. He didn’t know who or what that was anymore. He’d been feeling so vulnerable lately, his walls crumbling down, revealing who he was without his defenses up. Who was he when he didn’t hide behind a layer of smiles and cryptic nonsense? Cade had managed to break down one of his biggest barriers. But it didn’t make sense because he was comfortable with himself. He’d never had a problem before. Before Marshall came back into his life, he was comfortable. He could ignore the small jabs people used to say about the way his moms raised him and for the most part. Ripley had ignored those phrases. They were just the words of stupid people who didn’t know shit and were small minded. Though maybe all along... deep down... they’d always gotten to him. And when Marshall Van Sant showed up out of nowhere, he’d cracked a wall Ripley didn’t even know was there.

“Oh,” Ripley said aloud, when he finally felt like he could breathe again. “Oh.” And the realization hit him like a brick. “Fuck.”

Well... now what?

#gender stereotypes tw #internalized transphobia #misgendering tw #addiction tw #food tw #panic attack tw #homophobia tw #transphobia tw #self para.#self para / 003.

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 6 years

Text

It’s (Not) Over, Isn’t It? Chapter Six

Chapter Masterlist

Warnings for transphobia and misgendering this chapter

Patton was giggling on his phone in the library while he waited for the computer he was using to boot up. The Discord was buzzing away, and he loved lurking as he waited to get work done. Virgil was doing a lot of talking over the past week, getting used to the size of the server and warming up to the others who he talked to the most. Patton was especially proud whenever he saw Virgil and Logan talking, because Logan’s meta meeting Virgil’s fanfic was virtually unrivaled in awesomeness.

virgilent: so, what you’re saying is...if you write a meta about greg universe’s flip-flop tan lines, you want me to nod to it in an upcoming fic?

Sherlock Holmes: yes. problem?

virgilent: well, i think that writing a meta on something so small is ridiculous, but it’s whatever.

Sherlock Holmes: all questions about me writing metas have been serious before this. why would now be any different?

virgilent: because it’s greg universe’s flip-flop tan lines!!!

There was a pregnant pause on the server, everyone seemingly holding their breath.

Sherlock Holmes: i’m going to write the meta regardless

virgilent: it’s your funeral, man

Papa Patton: now come on, boys, play nice!

virgilent: that is nice

Patton rolled his eyes and shook his head, a small smile on his face. He knew he hadn’t known Virgil or Logan for very long, not really. But they already felt like good friends, friends he could trust. Granted, he felt that way about most people on the server, so maybe he shouldn’t just jump straight to conclusions, but...

His computer finally started and he was torn away from his phone to do research for his essay. The topic was something he specifically chose because he could get fired up about it; transgender rights. More specifically, why transgender individuals out of the closet should be allowed to serve in the military.

He knew this wasn’t going to make him many friends; colleges were usually liberal but that didn’t mean that all the people in his classes were. And those who weren’t, infuriatingly enough, seemed to be more popular, gathering people onto their side, the side that whatever Patton did was wrong, and he was just a “confused little girl”. He had learned to hate that phrase last year. He had hoped this semester would be different, but the campus was only so big. He still got snide comments from across the quad frequently.

But that wasn’t going to stop him from being himself. He was allowed a single room since he was an Resident Assistant for the freshman dorms, and he enjoyed being able to talk to the new kids and help them figure out things about the campus and about themselves. And he was going to stand up for them, even if he couldn’t stand up for himself.

Sifting through tweets for reliable sources was a nightmare, but Patton was willing to do it if it meant getting a good grade on this paper. If he did a good enough job he might even show it to Logan, see if they approved of it or if it stood up to Logan’s meta. Most of their metas read like college essays to begin with.

His phone buzzed with a notification and he allowed himself to be drawn away from his research just long enough to see that the notification was from Tumblr, and he had an ask. I wonder who that’s from, he thought to himself. Ah, I can check on it later.

Later wound up being about ten minutes, because sifting through Twitter was incredibly dull. It was from Logan, a quick question from his most recent ask meme. Amethyst: If you could shapeshift into anything, what would you be?

Patton thought long and hard about how to respond. He was torn between a dog and a cat, because he loved cats, but he didn’t want to be allergic to himself, and he liked dogs, but he didn’t want to be pet by random strangers all the time. Eventually he decided on cat, because personal space was a bit more important to him than allergies.

I’d be a cat, Logan! I really really like cats, and plus you don’t get random pets from strangers all the time if you’re a cat like if you were a dog! It was a bit of a silly answer, but he enjoyed silly answers. He posted the ask and went back to research.

Half an hour passed and Patton had the required amount of sources he needed for the essay and decided that he’d go back to his dorm and talk to his friends on his personal computer. A little reward for all that work.

Walking across the quad, he saw one of the popular boys who liked to rag on him notice and start his way. “Hey, Patton!” he yelled.

Patton braced himself and forced a smile on his face as he turned to face the boy, whose name he was pretty sure was Preston. “Yeah?” he asked. “Can I help with something?”

“Yeah, you can,” Preston said with a sneer. “You can go back to the girl’s wing of the dorms and keep your lady parts away from the men’s room.”

Patton swallowed and kept the smile on his face. He knew a little bit about Preston, how he had a hard life growing up, what with the birthmark covering half his face, and that now he was at college he was trying to take his power back. It allowed him to empathize a little with the other man, but it didn’t mean his comment didn’t sting.

“Sorry, Preston, but I can’t really do that. You see, I’m a guy, and having a guy living in the girls wing is kinda not good,” Patton said.

Preston sneered. “But you’re not really a guy,” he snarled.

Patton’s smile fell a fraction. “Well, you’ll have to tell that to my legal documents,” he said, before walking away.

“You won’t get away with this!” Preston yelled. “I’ll prove to everyone how you’ve deceived them!”

Patton suppressed a shiver and got away as fast as he could without running. Tears were clouding his vision and he was crying by the time he shoved his shaking hands’ keys into his dorm lock. He tried to fight off the thoughts that were taunting him, saying You’re not a guy, never have been and never will be, but he didn’t have the energy.

He turned around once in his dorm, locked the door, and sat down heavily at his desk, tears streaming down his face. It got easier, over the years, to ignore the barbs he was thrown, but it always, always stung, and after his research project today? Well, he had enough of a sour mood already that he was surprised it took him that long to cry.

The second he signed onto Discord, Virgil started typing. First a greeting, and then a request to join the voice chat. Patton didn’t really want to, but he didn’t want to say no, either, especially to Virgil, who was still really sensitive about saying the wrong thing in the wrong place. Papa Patton: is it okay if i stay muted? i’m not up for talking right now

virgilent: yeah, sure. so long as you’re okay?

Papa Patton: yeah, don’t worry about me, i’m fine, just dealing with a sore throat

He joined the voice chat once muted and he was met with a few scattered and quiet cheers. Virgil’s icon lit up and Patton was surprised by the deep voice that greeted him. “Hey, Patton. Nice to talk to you, sorta.”

Papa Patton: nice to be here

“Everything okay? I don’t think you’d usually be the type to be muted, even with a sore throat.”

Papa Patton: it’s a long story, and probably one that’s better suited for PM. don’t want to trigger anyone.

“Fair enough, though that has me worried,” Virgil said. “I could PM you my Skype and we could call there? Or just on here works, too.”

Papa Patton: no, skype’s fine by me. i’ll pm you my account

#it's (not) over isn't it?#sanders sides fanfiction #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #our creations

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good--bye--binary · 6 years

Photo

They/Them or She/Her

Happy Priiiiiiiiiiiiiide!!! 🌈🏳️‍🌈

I got a couple of pics in before heading out to the Chicago Pride Parade today and even talked my mom into taking a couple selfies with me while we were there!

I’m also in the process of coming out to every person I know that I haven’t yet. Most of these are people that are very important to me, but either I don’t get to see them very often and/or they’re more conservative and not at all educated on LGBTQ issues. To that end, I finally wrote a coming out letter and I thought I’d post it here just in case anyone else wanted to use portions of it! 😁

Dear ________,

In case you didn’t already know, this month is LGBTQ+ Pride Month. Both because of this and, more importantly, because I respect and cherish our relationship, I feel compelled to tell you that I am transgender. Specifically, I am non-binary, genderfluid, and transfeminine (more on all of those terms later). Although I have always questioned my gender, I came out to myself in November of 2016. Now I feel it is the right time for absolutely everyone to know.

I have written, deleted, rewritten, and revised this letter many times over many months because I want it to be as clear as possible. To that end, I thought it best to organize it as a list of questions directed towards myself, questions that I would expect you to have. Of course if you ever want me to explain something more, an answer doesn’t make sense, or you have a question that isn’t on here, PLEASE TALK TO ME. You might find that reading these questions and answers are enough, but if you don’t, I would much rather you talk to me directly rather than speculate, be confused, or turn to the internet which may have misleading or inaccurate information. On this last point, I don’t just mean anti-LGBTQ+ websites and organizations; gender is a very complicated and personal experience, so even pro-LGBTQ+ literature may define or explain terms in ways that are different from how I apply them to my gender experience.

Q1. How do you know/what makes you think you’re transgender? A1. Like almost all LGBTQ+ people will tell you, I always knew I was somehow different from most of the other kids. For me, it was about never feeling completely comfortable or understood by boys and men. For as long as I can remember, I have not only preferred the company of girls and women, but I have never felt “like one of the boys.” My closest friends have always been (and continue to be) women. Even in films, TV shows, video games, novels, and short stories, I almost immediately identify with female characters, but rarely do I do the same with male characters.

Have I been able to “fit in” with boys/men in the past? Yes, of course I have, because society has always suggested that I should and that there would be consequences if I didn’t. Did I enjoy the act of having to hide, censor, and think very deliberately about my behavior so that I wasn’t bullied or seen as weird? Absolutely not. I went to sleepovers at my male friends’ houses in grade school, but I hated them. I would get terrible anxiety as the scheduled day came closer and once I got there, I couldn’t wait for them to be over. I hated “acting like a boy.” It brought me literal pain and discomfort.

These feelings of pain, discomfort, and anxiety are symptoms of what is known as dysphoria. Dysphoria is an experience that nearly all transfolk experience. Euphoria is the feeling that everything is perfect—being in a state of mind that is complete bliss and one that you hope will never end. Dysphoria is the opposite of that. It’s the feeling that everything is wrong—a mental and emotional state of torture that feels like it will swallow you up and crush your spirit forever. When applied to transfolk specifically, dysphoria is what we used to mean when we said things like “I feel like a man trapped in a woman’s body” or vice versa. That phrase typically isn’t used any more because it implies that a person is only a man if they have a “male body”/a woman if they have a “female body,” but the intended meaning is the same.

I know that I’m transgender because I experience dysphoria. There are days that I look at myself and I just want to throw up because I don’t feel like I look right from a gender perspective. It feels like I’ve hijacked some other person’s body, like there’s a disconnect between my mind and the person I see in the mirror. Some days I look at my men’s clothes and putting them on feels like putting on clothes made of fire or acid. I see the hair on my legs and I want to rip each and every one of them out. This is dysphoria and it feels terrible.

Q2. What do you do when you feel this way? A2. Before I came out in November of 2016, I just buried it. As a child, I of course had no idea why I felt this way. Not only that, but even in the 1990s society wasn’t ready to talk about gender the way we talk about it now, so the idea of saying I was transgender could never cross my mind because there was next to no representation of transfolk. But now, when my dysphoria hits, I don’t avoid it. I listen to my body, think to myself, “Ok, so you’re not a man today,” and adjust my gender presentation accordingly. This brings me to my specific labels of being non-binary and genderfluid.

Traditionally in Western/American culture, we think of gender as a binary experience—everyone is either a man or a woman. Even most transfolk that you may be familiar with, like Caitlyn Jenner, Jazz Jennings, Laverne Cox, and Chaz Bono, are all binary transfolk. They identify as the “opposite” gender they were assigned at birth. Being non-binary means that I don’t completely identify as a man OR as a woman. Some non-binary people identify as more male than female, more female than male, or feel that they have no gender at all (this is known as being agender). However, I also identify as genderfluid, which means that similar to how water (or any fluid) in a glass can move fluidly in a glass depending on how you tilt it, my gender also moves fluidly.

Try thinking about gender as a spectrum (which nearly all psychologists agree it is), a line from 0 to 10. On one end, you have the feeling of being completely male all of the time and on the other side being completely female.

Though it is impossible to qualify with any kind of numbers, I would say my gender identity varies from day-to-day anywhere between a 4 and and a 10. Because I am more likely to be on the feminine side of the spectrum (6-10), I can also say that I’m transfeminine, meaning that while I don’t identify as a woman every single day (and thus am not a trans woman), I do, on average, tend to feel more like a woman than a man.

So, on days that I’m at a 4 or a 5, I probably just look like what you would expect a man to look like. However, if I’m at a 7, maybe I’ll wear “mens clothes” but also wear some make-up and/or nail polish. If I’m at a 9 or 10, I probably will wear “womens clothes,” make-up, a stuffed bra, and sometimes a wig. However, no matter what my gender expression/presentation is, I’m always non-binary.

Q3. Does this mean you’re a crossdresser? A3. No. Crossdressing is a hobby, which is totally fine if that’s what you’re into. It usually refers to men who always identify as men but find it “fun” to dress in women’s clothes. When I’m a man, I wear men’s clothes. When I’m a woman, I wear women’s clothes. It’s not a fetish or a hobby. I dress for whatever my gender is that day.

Q4. Does this mean you’re gay? A4. Because my gender is constantly shifting, labels like straight, gay, lesbian, and bisexual don’t apply to me. A person’s sexuality is defined not only by who they’re attracted to, but also their own gender. A man who is a attracted to men is gay. A woman who is attracted to men and women is bi. I am only attracted to women, but I myself am neither a man or a woman, so I can’t say that I’m straight, nor can I say that I’m a lesbian. Therefore, it’s most accurate for me to say that I’m attracted to women and just leave it at that.

Q5. What am I supposed to call you now? Are you changing your name? A5. I still go by Rich. If I’m in a very public place (like when placing an order at Starbucks for example) and I’m identifying/presenting as a woman and don’t want to get clocked as transgender, then I use the name Christina.

The only big change is that I don’t go by gendered pronouns (he/him or she/her). Like most non-binary people, I go by the gender neutral they/them. For example, a friend of mine wouldn’t say, “That’s my friend, Rich. He is an English teacher.” Instead, that friend would say, “This is my friend, Rich. They are an English teacher.” You might notice that I changed the gender preference on Facebook to reflect this (i.e. “Rich has changed their profile picture”).

Also, in general, I do not appreciate being addressed with terms/phrases like “Hey man” or “What’s up, dude?” I understand that most of the time when people use “man” or “dude,” they don’t mean it in a gendered way, but it still really aggravates my dysphoria to be called “dude,” even if I’m identifying/presenting as more masculine.

I also understand and can respect that having to think about my pronouns like this may seem strange and/or difficult to remember, but all I ask is that you try your best and definitely don’t misgender me on purpose.

Q6. Are you going to have “the surgery”/a sex change? A6. Just for the record, the term “sex change” isn’t used any more; the medical term is gender reassignment surgery (or GRS). But no, I am not. I do not plan on undergoing any kind of surgery to change my sex nor do I plan on taking hormones. My wardrobe and gender pronouns are enough to qualm any dysphoria.

I know that this is a lot to take in, both literally in the sense that it was almost 2,000 words long and uses terms you might never have heard of before, but also that it might be emotionally difficult, so thank you if you’ve made it this far into this letter. All I can say is that I wanted to come out to you because I love you and because I care about our relationship. I don’t want to be ashamed or hide who I am from you any more. Take as much time as you need to process this and again, please, if you have any more questions or concerns, talk to me. You can call me, text me, or write me a letter of your own, whatever makes you most comfortable.

Much thanks and even more love, Rich

#me #selfie #transgender #trans #nonbinary #nb #enby #transfeminine #genderfluid #genderqueer #girlslikeus #thisiswhattranslookslike #transgirlsruletheworld #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtqia #pride #pride 2018

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froggyphevoli · 6 years

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Froggy Used Safe Space... It’s Not Very Effective

My first mistake was checking the map.

Several weeks ago, when The Silph Road launched their map full of local Pokémon Go groups, I checked it to see if there was one for my hometown.

Why did I do that? There was no reason for me to do that. I like to keep my visits to my toxic hometown as short as possible, not to mention that I’m generally with family for the entirety of said visits. When the hell am I ever going to have the time or opportunity to raid while I’m there? Probably never.

But I was curious, so I checked. And there was one: A Discord server, which was very convenient because Discord is also what we use in SLO, where I live now.

My second mistake was joining that Discord server.

I thought of it as a “just in case” sort of thing. On the off-chance I ever had the need and/or ability to participate in a raid in my hometown, I knew I would want access to their Discord. I explained my situation to the moderators, and they welcomed me in anyway.

Nothing of interest happened until a few days ago. I got a message from someone with the username “Stranger,” who was also on my hometown’s Discord. He said that he was looking for a group of people to raid with in the mornings, since that’s when he’s able to but everyone else all seems to raid in the afternoon.

That’s when I committed my third mistake: I replied.

I told Stranger the same thing I told the moderators— that I no longer live there, but visit a few times a year and wanted to be on the Discord “just in case.” I expected the conversation to die quickly after that, but Stranger continued to answer my messages. Since my hometown is so small, he hoped that I might know some of the people who raid there, even though I’ve never raided there myself.

I didn’t know anyone off the top of my head, but Stranger had encountered two morning people not on the Discord and described them both to me. He hadn’t gotten either of their contact information when he ran into them before, so he was curious if I might know who they were. (Yes, we made jokes about him being named Stranger and acting like a stalker.) One of the people he described didn’t sound familiar to me at all, but the other... the other made my blood run cold as I read it.

Stranger told me that the person was heavy set and tattooed, what car he drove, and that he had a kid. All of those details except for the tattoos sounded like my stalker ex-boyfriend, the one I usually refer to as “Dumbass.”

My fourth mistake was telling Stranger that that person sounded like my ex-boyfriend.

Anxiety gripped me tight as I awaited Stranger’s next response. I tried to calm down by reminding myself that Dumbass really didn’t seem like the type of guy to get lots of tattoos, so the physical build, car, and child could have been coincidences. Still, I hadn’t seen him in nearly nine years, so a lot could have happened in that time. The kid was clearly proof of that.

In between Stranger’s message describing him and my message saying who he sounded like, Stranger apparently ran into the guy again, and this time got his first name and phone number. With this information, Stranger did some Instagram stalking for his last name, and we were able to confirm that it was indeed Dumbass that he’d been raiding with.

This was the point where my paranoia skyrocketed. I would never, ever, ever be safe from this man. No matter what I did, no matter where I went, he would always have a link to me. And now Pokémon Go, a source of great joy in my life and somewhat of a safe space for me, had become one of those links. Hell, for all I knew it could be even more direct of a link than I realized. How did I know that Stranger was who he said he was? How did I know that he wasn’t just Dumbass making all this up as a way to talk to me? It wouldn’t be his usual M.O. He’s always been pretty blatant about it when he messages me. But hell, what the fuck do I know? I didn’t think he’d get even one tattoo, but apparently he’s got loads of them. How could I ever predict what he would or wouldn’t do?

I did not relay any of this to Stranger. Again, I haven’t seen Dumbass in nearly nine years. He could be a completely different person now. The fact that my last message from him was less than a year ago suggests otherwise, but still. Maybe, other than his repulsive and persistent disrespect of my boundaries, he’s grown into an overall decent fellow. Who fucking knows. Either way, it didn’t seem important to fill Stranger in on the situation. The poor dude just wanted people to raid with. If Dumbass was a jerk to him, he would figure it out on his own, and if not, he could use him to get some Pokémon he wouldn’t have gotten otherwise. To go into detail would have been petty and gossipy of me, right? So I didn’t.

That was my fifth mistake.

Stranger blabbed. He didn’t know my name yet, but told Dumbass about our conversation. Apparently Dumbass’s response was “That sounds like Katrina. Tell her I said hi.”

I cringed, hard, for multiple reasons. For starters, there was the use of my birth name and incorrect pronoun, which felt like a stab to the stomach. To be fair, I very much doubt that Dumbass is aware that I’m genderqueer, but it still made me dysphoric, just instinctively. To make it even worse, since Stranger lives in my super conservative hometown, I have no idea whether or not he’s safe to come out to. I told him that I go by Froggy but decided not to correct him on the pronoun for now, which I’m already kicking myself for because I know I’m opening myself up for more misgendering in the future.

But I have more pressing concerns than dysphoria. I already had to worry about Dumbass randomly contacting me before, but now I’m on his mind. Now he’s been reminded of my existence, which means the chances of hearing from him in the near future probably just got much higher. My anxiety has been on red alert ever since, making me jump every time my phone buzzes, dreading checking it just in case it’s him. I have him blocked on every social media account I have, but he has a habit of making new accounts.

And Pokémon Go. This all had to happen because of Pokémon Go. Somehow, I think that’s actually the worst part. My roommate phrased it best after I vented to her about it: “He tainted something that was pure.”

Obviously I’m not going to stop playing Pokémon Go. Dumbass can’t take that away from me. But I think the odds of me ever raiding in my hometown just plummeted to zero. They were already pretty thin odds just because of time constraints, but now? Even if the opportunity arises, I don’t think I’ll take it. I’ll be too worried about running into him. I’m already debating whether or not I should leave my hometown’s Discord server. Dumbass may not be able to take Pokémon Go away from me when I’m on my own turf, but sadly I think I’ll be avoiding it while I’m on his.

I guess this is what I get for believing that anything in my life could be pure.

#this is an angsty personal post #ignore if you hate those #Froggy Phevoli #is this the real life?#Pokemon Go

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unravelling-the-world · 4 years

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I was trying my best, and another friend who always took pictures of us (we took pics of him as well dw) documented all of those moments, i even used a not-permanent spray color hair for that day just so the pictures could be special. I didn't particularly like myself, I never did ,but I was too busy to think about it. When i went out, i felt decent at least. Binder, thick under-eye red/black liner, just the perfect e-boy look i wanted. I felt that, as a pre-hrt person, I was looking as masc as I could while doing the style that makes me comfortable and I want to achieve. I was doing my best everytime we went out to look presentable in the pictures, and I did well 9/10 times. At some point, there was a light festival as well. I went with one friends and my cousin and we had fun. My friend and I took pictures, my cousin didn't want hers taken but we still interacted a lot and had fun, I loved the pics of that day. I never got to post them, because my downfall came soon after. At that point in time, I was finally living the dream. I posted frequently on ig (bc i went out frequently) and even though i wasn't anyone big, no partnerships or anything, not even 1k followers, I was growing, and having been intoxicated by fame at age 12, it was just what I needed. My posts started getting 70 likes on average and 7-10 comments, i only had 500 followers but they were growing at an average of 20 followers/month. A lil tween reached out to me and told me he thought I was really cool and was my fan. Bro, that was awesome. Things were moving forward, and altough i felt afraid of the future, I was working on it all. I was making progress in other aspects as well,having come out formally recently and with help from my psychologist, we were going to start looking into hrt, and i just couldn't believe it. I only have read fast and short info. I never really wanted to inform myself more because deep within me I was just afraid I'd never be able to get it and get my hopes up for nothing. We appointed a session to talk about that. This was march, and at my house, we watched a Japanese channel (because we are all interested in Japanese culture and such) So I knew the coronavirus was coming. They started talking about it since the start, in december, obviously, because they are way closer to where the virus started so it spread faster there. I remember it was on a cruise first. I knew it would eventually arrive here, so through all summer i told my mother "it's only a matter of time." I knew it'd come. March was here, and the last time i went out with my friends came along. Inside my head, I felt like I knew that was the last time. I had thoughts about "I wonder if i'll ever get to see a sight like this again". I managed to take some pictures, because,inside me, I knew that was the last time. I wanted to preserve the memory of it. I didn't want to forget. At the time, with a friend, who took the same metro line as me but lives further away, since it was just us two, when saying goodbye we'd always say "see you in five minutes" (like in endgame, because i told her the whole movie and told her when they said that and then black widow died) and she LAUGHED so hard and it became an ongoing joke between us (we are both kinda suicidal ngl but we just laugh abt it.) We said it that day as well, but we actually never saw each other again lmao

At that point, in the country, there were about 4 covid cases. Only 1 in the capital, so it had started, but was only just the start. When I got home, i kind of knew that was the last. My classes started, and for two weeks, it was hell on earth. Online,obviously. I got paired up with the guy I hated the most in the entire generation (I only knew half of them, and liked even fewer, but this guy. fuck. i would have killed him. he was awful.) Anyways. Yeah. But at the end, classes got postponed until further notice. So I was now a Neet! For a while, even though coronavirus was getting worse and worse here as everywhere, I was doing good. I was living the introvert dream, and since I have a decent/good relationship with my parents and grandma, life was just great. All around me I saw everyone struggle with quarantine. I was having a blast. Playing sims, watching anime, anything went. Shit was great. Got Gta V for free when epic released it, and had a blast. Got obsessed with obey me for a while. It was all fun.... Met via discord with my friends. Almost daily with certain friends, once in a while with others, but the whole group would be together at least once. It was good, for me. I felt good. I would ocassionally wake up and tell my mother that I was happy, and hug her. I don't think i'd ever done that. I was at peak, and I knew it. Drew a lot, played a lot. Did a lot of things and projects. Everything felt ok...My dysphoria wasn't great during these times (since now i stay in pajamas all day except when I use camara to meet with friends, and obviously I dont wear my binder with my pajamas) But i had so much free time, that I could just ignore it. (I'm good at avoiding things. at running away.)

Classes started June 1st. First day, I had a breakdown. I don't remember why, but I couldn't connect to class. I felt overwhelmed. I don't know and don't like asking for help because i feel useless when I do. So I didn't. Apparently I seemed more upset than I thought, because my dad noticed. When comforted or confronted, I always cry. I can't talk about my feelings without crying. I feel weak for expressing them. Even writing this, i feel the knot in my neck. My dad saw and ended up helping and comforting. I cried a lot. I went to class, but spent the whole 3 hours of class crying. Things were unstable for a while, but I was keeping afloat, I guess. I started feeling like shit, I wasn't happy daily anymore. Online learning felt so distant and so difficult and so different. I don't like change. At least not without expecting it beforehand. So yeah, that ended up taking a toll on my mental health. The downfall started. I was quite busy, but still tried to meet with friends via discord whenever we could. We had some online birthdays, and season 3 of osomatsu san had already been announced. I was looking forward to it so much. I was in pain, but that thought was keeping me going. I started getting worse, mentally. I started isolating myself ocasionally. I have quite long gaps from this period. I can't really recall much of what happened or what it was like. At some point around August-September I was watching 6teen, because my uni decided that starting a semester and compressing it into a trimester was a good idea, and finals were in september, i think. At the time of finals, i was watching 6teen. I didn't wanna finish it, so I started total drama after. I had a week of vacation in September as well, and I think I was OK for the week.

I won't lie. I don't remember october. I only know Osomatsu-san started here bc I waited for it all year long. I regained closer contact with a friend who lives in japan. Halloween also had an online meeting. I cosplayed, and felt good with myself for the night, for the first time in months. But I ended up having a breakdown later that night. A friend who didn't come and had said he'd come ended up arriving very late (2-3AM ish, meeting was at 10PM) He was very drunk. I don't mind. He says he just came to say sorry he didn't come bc he ended up meeting with irls. We tell him it's ok. He disconnects. He reconnects not long after, but we are confused, since that's not his voice. It was his friend who took his phone, a classic party prank. Doesn't matter, it was fun for a bit. This guy is also mad drunk, so talking to him is weird and funny. But shit gets bad for me in a bit. I was using a voice changer, as I usually do online, because Im ashamed of my high pitched voice. But this guy misgenders me, more than once, and also my friend who lives in japan. He doesn't seem to care, and I act like I don't, but it hurts so bad. My other friend who was there at that time corrects him, more than once. I felt thankful to her. I never thanked her afterwards because I didn't know how to bring out that topic without crying. This guy is very drunk though, and altough i doubt he had vile intentions because of the way he phrased it, he insists, that those are womans voices. They talk about it a bit, verbal comebacks. I wanted them to stop. At some point, my friend who lives in Japan leaves bc its lunch time for him. I felt like shit. I just told this other guy "I'm 10" and he dropped the subject, he believed me and the explanation. My friend laughed her ass out, because she thought I said it as a joke. Truth is, that was just a desperate answer to get him to drop the topic. I dont really care if he believed I was 10 or not though. I just wanted it to stop. He jokes with my friend for a bit more. I didn't talk much after, because I felt ashamed. I didn't want to talk ever again. Even now, even with the voice changer, I don't have the confidence I had when I started using it. I have lowered the pitch twice, just in case. My friend left the call a bit later. When she left, I left as well. I was thankful to her though. I don't remember if i cried or not, but it caused me a massive breakdown for about two weeks. I didn't talk online with anyone until my birthday, I think. I didn't tell anyone but my psychologist this.

I don't remember November much either. I know it's my birthday, and I know I came back to tumblr in november. Yall know when. Canon destiel and shit. Tumblr hadn't felt so alive in years. It felt like home. I remember I was having a bad breakdown during that time. I think it was career related. I can't really remember much. The shitshow happening on tumblr Destiel Election actually helped me get better. I remember this only because of a conversation I had with a friend. I started working on christmas decorations as well. December came along, I worked hard on christmas decorations. I played a bit as well, because on some of my classes I just didn't have anything to do lol. Decorations were finished two weeks in advance for christmas. For the first time ever! I was happy. During these times,Nov-Dec lockdowns started easing up a bit. I still can't go out at all though, because I live with my grandmother, so we're supposed to minimize risks. My parents only go out for shopping essentials that can't be bought online. So it's fair and I understand it, but it started becoming hard on mental health. Not because I can't go out, but because my friends start going out. They know I can't go, they don't exclude me, but they know I can't and I also know I can't. I guess in a form, its jealousy. It becomes hard because there's no one to blame. It's no one's fault. I'm not excluded on purpose, but the truth is, I don't want to hear them talk about what they do when they have fun. I've always been insecure. Even when all evidence points otherwise, I still believe, deep inside,they hate me. They wish I weren't in the group and would be better off without me. It gets hard sometimes.

Even though in general December was quite good, it also came with a major breakdown. One of my best friend's bday is in December. Up until then, Me, her, and another friend had been playing league of legends nearly daily. It was toxic sometimes (the game/community, not my friends) but we had fun. I just liked playing together. But that would come to an end as well. My friend celebrated her birthday, and did invite me, but obviously I couldn't go,and she knew this beforehand, so she didn't get mad or anything. She handled the situation very well, wrote on the gc once, and then did a special gc for birthday attendants to talk about details there and such, and reminded friends who asked in the gc to talk in the birthday gc. (this is how i knew, but i think it was well done tbh, i wish they'd just asked in the bday gc instead so i wouldn't have seen it and felt bad about how i couldn't go) My friend also offered to have me as an online guest, like, being in videocall in the computer on the table. like Karen from spongebob ig. the idea was cool, but honestly i felt bad. She celebrates her bday with her gf bc their dates are near, and I just didn't really want to inconvenience them? I mean, her gf is cool and she used to hang out with our group ocassionaly and she was cool and fit in, and it never felt awkward talking to her irl or anything but it's not like she's my friend and honestly I didn't wanna inconvenience her party, and even though I'm sure my friend wouldn't have minded, I didn't want to be an extra inconvenience for her too. I just wanted her to have fun, honestly. But feeling like a burden ended up weighing on my mind. This caused a bad bad breakdown, beforehand I had started to become better,little by little, but these two weeks waiting for that event to happen felt like a nightmare to me. I didn't tell anyone. I think i wrote it about here once. Around this time, an account on instagram called "matsunoadvice" got reccomended to me, and Oh boy Have I gone to them for advice. Of course, I sent them a message at the time, desperate for someone to talk to, because I couldn't tell anyone about this, because all my other friends know each other kinda and i didn't wanna inconvenience everyone. I didn't want anyone to know i felt like shit. I felt thankful to my friend, because she did try her best to include me, I just didn't really wanna inconvenience anyone. I guess I'd rather suffer alone myself than being a pain in the ass for someone else. After all, I've accepted that I'm alone long ago, and since now there's nothing I can do to maintain my social relationships now,I may as well just accept that theyre ending now. I kind of isolated myself for those two weeks, sometimes i would still connect on discord, but it always felt kind of distant. I stopped playing league of legends around this time.

I still hadn't confirmed to my friend if i was virtually going or not. Truth is, i kind of knew I probably wouldn't want to go in the end, bc im Like That™ But i told her in advance that i'd let her know the date of the event early in the day because of how unstable I am and I wouldn't actually be sure until the day (which was true when I told her) So the day of the event i told her that I was thankful but I wouldn't be assisting virtually and told her to have a great day! She replied okay in a nice way as she always did. I don't think she seemed weirded out by my answer. I hope she didn't feel bad, because she's very empathetic so I hope she didn't think about me at all that day. I hope she never reads this, and even if she does, she didn't really do anything wrong and handed the situation the best she could, the pain was unevitable for me due to the situation. beforehand i had also had a similar breakdown though, because 3 friends who i was/am? still very close to started meeting each other to skate together. I don't know how to skate/have never skated and obviously can't go either way, and sometimes they'd talk about it in the vc. I remained calm always until the call ended,but I did cry about it late at night. It's selfish, of course, but when no one saw anyone, it was easier. we were all the same. But now it felt like they were all moving on without me. In a way, it's what I always wanted, but I always wished to die first. I know it's not sane, but i'd imagined situations like that in my head, where I die and then everyone moved on and it made me feel calmer. But seeing that unfold before my eyes, when i'm still breathing here, i'm still here. It felt lonely. I'm glad they're having fun. I'm just upset I can't do it as well? And it makes me feel like inevitably my relationships with them will break and fall apart and dissapear and they're all still gonna be a interwined network, even though I did everything I could to maintain it because it's all I've ever had outside of my direct family? I didn't make any friends at uni or have a different group of friends so it just...hurt? It still hurts, i'm just more used to it. Also after the bday i did try to connect in vc but it just made me worse, like a friend said like "noo it got too wild honestly u didnt miss anything" and i was like lmao ok but i felt like kinda sad anyways but if i was there i wouldve probably slept through it anyways

...after i felt awful bc i have another friend who is just kinda blunt and kinda dumb when it comes to how others feel, and he was like ohh yeah but after the bday [friend] took us and some of [friends gf's friends] to our houses and since it was early we went to a mcdonalds and it was so fun !! and it was just so uncomfortable bc obviously im glad you have fun but like i dont wanna know??? bc it hurts a fuckin lot???? and my other friend who was also in vc (he was the one w the car) he was like "haha yeaaa it was fun" but he seemed quite uncomfortable talking abt it he could probably tell i didnt wanna hear and ik my other friend only did it bc he's naive not bc he had bad intentions but yeah it sucked i was like haha thats great heh.....like what ya want me to say babe

Christmas arrived and it ended up helping me a lot. Christmas is my favorite holiday and I decorated a month in advance, baked cookies for the first time (with my mom) and we just did a lot of things this year. It made me happy and kept me occupied through the pain (I know i described a lot of pain here but I only paid attention to it at night, which is why it still hurts now probably bc i've had it all repressed) And of course the gifts, honestly I didn't know what to expect because this year I didn't really know what to ask for and just asked for a surprise (because i love receiving things! anything) And my dad definetely outdid himself with all the gifts, I loved them and they're all useful too! I was amazed and i told my friends abt it and it ended up in me talking more in the vc again, and i also started playing genshin impact in late december as well. We also held a secrer santa in the group but not everyone participated (mostly bc of money) but the 4 of us that did was fun! i knew everyone's secret santa bc 2/4 asked to me for help and they were mutual </3 so i knew me and my other friend were mutual too lol but it was cool. I kinda was a bitch a bit though bc he delievered my gift to my home and was going to come a random day and I just wasn't prepared bc I was afraid of seeing him honestly I didn't want to see him and I hoped he wouldn't come? He didn't come that day but he did come some days after, I truly wasn't ready at that point anyway and my mom said we could let him inside if he sanitized, but he came with his mother and didn't get out of the car, we just exchanged the gifts, and honestly I was glad, i was polite and just said hi to both and thanks and all! Obviously i love him a lot bc we're close but idk why i didnt want him to come into my house i just feel like im so boring now and I dont know what we couldve talked abt and honestly ive always been shy but now i just forgot how to socialize and i was terrified so when he didnt get out i was just glad.....well, also

I feel like all of these incidents separated me and my friend who had her birthday on december. Now she wouldn't join the vc or gc often (or say she couldn't, which she usually did before) so I just assumed she hated me, but i didn't really have the guts to ask? She still liked my memes on the gc sometimes but not as she used to, she always used to like every single meme (or nearly all) and she never talked over me (I always get talked over except when I'm drunk bc i become a bit less shy therefore more violent) and would even call others out for me when talked over and always respected everything i told her abt me (Through the years, i've told her some of my deepest shits bc i just trust her like that i dont mind if she knows) but it just felt distant? Also a bit before that, at the start of december we started streaming on twitch, and that week i was very bad I told her i wouldn't play much bc i wasnt doing well but I was up for streaming bc i rly wanted to be professional abt it even if we dont pursue it as a career, but in the end we didnt stream, and fell out of streaming a bit after that. I was kind of afraid to ask her if she wanted to stream again, but we'd talked once and she said she'd finally gotten the cat earphones for the streams (she mentioned she wanted them beforehand) yeah anyways i dont think she actually hates hates me but idk the idea still lingers in my mind

uh yeah also i felt like shit for a bit bc i thought she definetely hated me bc we hadnt talked in a bit and she didnt like my memes anymore so i just assumed the worst, i even listened to break up music (which is what i do when a friendship ends bc altough ive never rly had strong romantic feelings for anyone that kind of song helps me move on after friend breakups too bc no one warns you abt how painful these are) and i cried obviously, but again i never mentioned it to anyone (i made a few vague textposts here though) and just got my shit together even if it hurt? lol, well a bit of time passes and everything seems to go back to normal, i dont remember how she told us but she said she had a job now which is why she didnt connect much and slept earlier and i felt relief lol bc i legit thought she hated me and i felt like shit abt it lol i mean the idea they kinda hate me lingers in my mind all the time but at that point in life i was like. SURE she hated me until that point. now we ocasionally play genshin together but i cant really talk at that time and that also makes me upset bc i do wake up late and im trying to fix my schedule a bit by waking up at 2pm instead of 5 pm but it doesnt even matter bc i play board games with my grandma daily (bc its good for her and its fun i do enjoy it) i just wish we could do it earlier bc lately she gets up at like 9pm and i end up finishing playing at 11/12/1 and its just kinda late to meet w my friends bc i always have smth to do/finish after and i just cant make it in time even if i wake up earlier? lol but i cant change her schedule so theres nothing i can do but cry about it

oh also ik matsunoadvice gave me advice on this but like there's this friend who i love obviously but sometimes he just talks abt his meetings w other friends and like it only makes me angry as fuck and i cant ask him to not bc im too shy but i wish he could stop. and also when he complains abt skate related stuff it makes me unexplainably angry but like i have no reason or right to im just angry bc i cant do that and probably never will bc i doubt ill ever be able to go out again ?? lol. and he even offered like "when we go out again u should come and ill lend u my skate and if u like it u can get one" and honestly its all super nice and i appreciate it and ive thanked him and told him yes but it just makes me feel angry inside bc i dont see an ending with all the mutations and shit and my voice cracks when i tell him haha yeah if we ever meet again bc honestly my youth is already over and i just spent it like a social recluse and i read a post here when i was younger that said like lgbt people spend their teens closeted and ashamed and live their teens in their twenties but now im gonna miss my twenties to the pandemic and then ill be too fucking old and itll be too fucking late and ill have to die and i just never lived bc i still havent even transitioned yet and i doubt ill ever be able to (this also causes me a lot of pain but i will ignore it) and the other day he said like i hope i can see u this year bc i miss u and i just said that honestly ive lost all hope of ever seeing anyone again and my voice cracked and my other friend said something related but not so related and im just glad he talked in bc i didnt rly care i just wanted to change the topic bc i know ill never see them again and eventually probably lose contact and see them all have fun together without me just as if i was dead but just didnt pass away and its difficult but i have to accept it and it hurts a lot now but in 7 years itll be fine, just like i accepted im unlovable and will never have a s/o and when i was 12 that hurt a lot but now it doesnt so someday i will be alone but i hope it doesnt hurt anymore.

this is all a mess and the format is everywhere and theres no timeline i hope no one reads it. if u do read it im sorry. i just honestly been carrying all of this for a while now and i want it out of my system honestly bc i dont know what to do with it and i was on the verge of a breakdown for a minimal thing hours ago i just want all this info out of my brain.....also obv these are only the bad things that have happened/good things that took me out of the hole but a lot of good things happened too lol and i skipped a lot of imp points like i changed careers and shit and also i met a lot of cool mutuals since i got back to tumblr and ososan been carrying my mental health every monday but yeah i just wanted the negatives out of the system. the frustrations and the anger. i hope no one reads this fr its so messy

#hinatalks #long post

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lemon-drop-writings · 7 years

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Gibbous (Reddie/Stenbrough, Trans!Richie x Eddie/Stan x Bill) 1/??

Summary: The Losers Club is taking a long weekend away from their hometown of Derry and heading out into the forest to get some fresh air. Richie hopes he can put his past behind him and finally begin to start a future, hopefully involving Eddie. Bill is ready to be part of something more than himself; whether it be something as small as a relationship with a certain other member of the Losers Club, he doesn’t know.

Warnings: occasional language, transphobia, misgendering, dead name use, drinking, yelling, emotional/verbal abuse, angst(??)

Word Count: 1387

A/N: Aaaaaah, thank you so much to everyone who liked and reblogged the last fic! I really hope everyone likes this one just as much. The bits in italics are flashbacks to Richie dealing with his parents, hence the warnings mentioned above. I’ll be doing my best to get this updated somewhat regularly? I have a pretty busy weekend, but after that I think it levels out! Woo! If you have any questions about this or anything else, feel free to ask! Alright, enough from me. Enjoy the first chapter of Gibbous!

“Rochelle, we will not stand for this. Wentworth, talk some sense into her, she’s not a boy.”

“Rochelle, sweetie. You’re a girl. You were born a girl, and you’ll always be a girl, do you hear me?”

“I can’t believe you! I tell you something this sensitive and you react like this?! I know it’s different, but fucking shit, at least let tell me you still love me!”

“Sweetie, we do. But this? Wanting to be a boy? That’s not normal. It’s not right!”

“Why couldn’t I have a normal daughter? I can’t deal with this!”

“Mom… Dad… what do you-?”

“Sweetie, we can’t, in all good consciousness, live with you in this house. We… Rochelle, maybe you could find somewhere else to stay.”

________________________________________________________________

“R-Richie, are you almost ready?” Bill looked up from his duffel bag.

“Yeah, I need a sleeping bag though, do you have an extra?” Richie zipped up his backpack, putting it next to the guitar case covered in stickers.

“We only have this and the one from when I was little, I’m sorry, I lent the others to Ben and Mike,” Bill made a face, indicating an apology. His stutter had gotten better over the years to the point where it would only sneak into his sentences on a rare occasion.

“…Guess I’ll have to scavenge around at the hell hole,” Richie sighed and headed towards the door of Bill and his shared room.

“Richie…” Bill chewed his lip nervously.

“Hm?”

“……Be careful and stay safe.”

Richie took a breath and nodded, heading down the stairs, out the door, and down the street to the house that had fallen apart ever since that night.

________________________________________________________________

“Don’t touch me! Don’t come near me, you bastard,” Maggie slurred.

“Maggie, put the bottle down. One of us is going to end up hurt.”

Richie watched from the doorway as his very intoxicated mother stumbled around the kitchen, glaring at his father. Neither of them noticed his presence until he stepped backwards, causing a loose floorboard to let out a high-pitched squeak.

“Rochelle! Sweetie, when did you get here?” Richie’s father looked over, trying to seem happy to see his child.

“What…what’s going on?”

“Nothing, baby girl. Come here, let mommy see you!” Maggie stumbled forward, putting a hand on the counter for balance. She set down the half empty bottle, coming closer to Richie. Her breath reeked of alcohol as she moved in close to Richie’s face, running her fingers through his short curls, “Honey, what did you do to your hair? It was so pretty! Now it’s all short and choppy…When did you do this?”

“Mrs. Denbrough cut it for me a week after I moved in… I like it better this way.” Richie shrunk away from him mother’s hand, his nose wrinkling at the foul smell of the liquor that reached his senses. He had just come to grab some more of his things; he never wanted to have to confront his parents. He swallowed the lump in his throat, “Please don’t touch me, mother.”

Maggie’s expression changed from confusion to slight shock and offense, “Is that any way to speak to the woman who brought you into this world, Rochelle?” She waited a second before suddenly screaming, “ANSWER ME, YOUNG LADY!”

________________________________________________________________

Richie took a deep breath, approaching the house he had once called home. He knew he could sneak into the back, grab the sleeping bag from the end of the hall in the storage closet, and be out in a matter of 2 minutes. He just hoped it would be that easy.

As he got closer, he saw neither of his parents’ cars in the driveway. He felt his incredibly high anxiety level lower at this observation, allowing him to more easily prepare himself mentally for this task.

He went around the back of the large house, climbing up the tree in the backyard. He shifted out onto a branch, reaching over to his former bedroom window and pushing it up, sliding through the gap and landing on his feet. Once within the familiar room, he shuddered.

He took no time to reminisce; he had a plan, and he was going to succeed. He quickly made his way out of his room and to the end of the hall, spotting the rolled-up fabric and quickly snatching it. Richie sprinted back into the pastel pink room he used to call his own. The walls seemed to taunt him, a canopied bed against the back corner with flowery patterned sheets neatly made up.

Richie sighed and tossed the sleeping bag out the window, climbing out onto the branch and closing the window again. He shifted his thin body and made his way down the large tree, hopping onto the grass, grabbing the rolled-up camping item, and running back down the street to Bill’s house. He finally felt the tightness in his chest leave when he saw his beat up red truck in the Denbrough’s driveway. He let out a breath of relief and slowed his pace, noticing Bill was placing the camping bags in the bed of the truck.

“Billiam, my boy, did you bring everything down?” he tossed the sleeping bag in the back, putting it between the metal of the truck and his backpack, grinning at the boy on the other side of the vehicle.

“Why, yes I did Mr. Tozier!” he chuckled in return. He checked the luggage once again and looked up at Richie. “Do we have everything?”

“I have a secret stash of snacks I’ve been gathering just for tonight, Billiam. I will return before you can say ‘beep beep’!” he chuckled at the old phrase, turning on his heels and jogging inside and up the stairs. He reached their room, going to a small dresser the Denbrough’s had found for him. He opened the bottom drawer, pulling out a drawstring backpack full of chips and candy that he knew would probably result in another acne breakout, but he didn’t give a shit; Richie just wanted to have a good time with good friends and good food.

He went back downstairs, bumping into Georgie on the way. The youngest Denbrough never failed to make him smile.

“Richie! Are you and Billy leaving soon?” he looked up with his soft, childlike features despite being almost 11.

“Yes, we are little man! We were just about to head out. Can your favourite Richie get a big hug?” he grinned down at the little boy, wrinkles forming in the corners of his eyes from how wide his smile was.

The small boy beamed and wrapped his arms around Richie’s middle, squeezing him tight and humming. Richie felt his heart melting at how sweet he was, leaning down and putting his own long arms around Georgie’s small frame. He rubbed Georgie’s back gently and grinned.

“Be good, little dude. Make sure to keep an eye on your parents! And make sure to feed Maturin tonight, bud,” Richie heard Georgie giggle at the mention of his pet turtle.

“I’ll come say goodbye to Billy!” Georgie beamed, grabbing the older boy’s large hand and following him the rest of the way down the stairs.

Richie couldn’t help but be happy around the young child leading him outside. He remembered the scare they had a few years ago when Georgie went missing for a week. Bill was brought to tears when they found him in the Barrens, hungry and missing home. He still managed to be a ray of sunshine, bringing happiness to whoever was around him, despite the trauma of that rainy week.

When Bill saw his little brother dragging Richie out the door, he chuckled and opened his arms. Georgie ran into them and promptly got picked up and twirled around, squealing happily.

After saying their goodbyes, the two teens loaded themselves into the rusted pick up truck and drove off to give Stan and Beverly a ride. Eddie, Mike, and Ben would ride in Ben’s car and meet them at Stan’s cousin’s campsite. They would all spend the long weekend there, finally getting some time to be away from the town.

They picked up their two passengers, Richie and Beverly lighting up a few cigarettes and rolling down their windows as the made their way down the road, radio blaring. Finally, some time away.

Tag List: @edsrich @bxxpbxxprichie (If anyone wants to be added, please message me, and I can get you on the list!)

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rosie-leonard · 4 years

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Rosie’s Revealing Research

Brianna Boccuti, age 20, joins DCCC journalist student Rosie Leonard over FaceTime to discuss struggles of coming out in close-minded society. Photo by Rosie Leonard.

At age 13, Brianna Boccuti was admitted into Rockford Mental Hospital for attempted suicide linked to early-onset depression. During her stay, Boccuti had a revelation regarding her sexual identity: she liked girls.

“I remember sitting in group therapy with about 30 people,” Boccuti, age 20, said. “Someone had asked, ‘Who in here is straight?’ and me and two others raised our hands, and I thought to myself, huh, that’s interesting.”

Boccuti resided in Rockford for a few weeks until she was no longer a threat to herself. During her stay, she battled with new and confusing feelings she suddenly had for another girl.

After leaving Rockford, Boccuti came out as bisexual to her friends but was quick to assure them she would not look at them sexually or glimpse at them in the locker room, for she feared being seen as perverted.

A year later, Boccuti she realized she was a lesbian, but hesitated coming out because, at the time, only two people at her school were “out.” And those people, as defined by social groups, were “weird” and “different,” according to Boccuti.

“Part of the reason I did not want to come out was because many associate gay with perversion. I was okay with being gay, but I did not want to be called things I wasn’t,” Boccuti said.

Boccuti said she recalled many instances in which she would be walking down the school hallways and hear kids making fun friends, calling each other “gay,” to sound funny or cool. She even referenced times in which her family would say “that’s so gay,” or use the term negatively or in jest.

According to Boccuti, it was hard to say the words “I am gay” because it is often misused; “It felt like an insult to myself,” she said.

Boccuti is part of the one-third of LGBTQ individuals who suppressed their true identity in fear of societal denouncement, according to Dr. Evan Goldstein, founder and CEO of Bespoke Surgical, a private institution dedicated to the health and well being of the gay community.

According to Goldstein, hearing slurs, harsh words, or offensive phrases directly or indirectly can damage one’s mental and physical state, and lead to low self-esteem, depression, drug usage, or suicide.

A 2012 study released in The Journal of American College Health examined the impact microaggressions such as “that’s so gay” have on gay, lesbian, and bisexuals (GLB) in the school environment. Experts reported that GLB students who are exposed to harsh words often experience hostility from peers and, in turn, are more inclined to hide their sexual identity from friends and family in fear of rejection.

Evidently, the negative and carefree usage of these phrases “dismiss and problematize being gay for others,” according to the study.

In addition, The Human Rights Campaign surveyed 10,000 LGBTQ individuals in 2018 and reported that 42% of individuals live in a community that is not accepting of LGBTQ people, making it difficult for one to come to terms with his/her/their sexuality publicly.

“Sometimes it feels like I need to apologize for being me.”

- Brianna Boccuti

In this current era, it is even more difficult to avoid harassment because social media and the internet exist. According to GLSEN, a teacher founded organization dedicated to promoting LGBTQ inclusion in school environments, 42% of LGBTQ youth have experienced cyberbullying from text messages or online/social media platforms.

According to GSLEN, the internet is a safe space for many LGBTQ individuals to communicate freely with others within the community. Still, their presence online makes them more susceptible to cyberbullying from heterosexuals or predators.

According to researchers, bullying and remarks stem from people of all ages. Out of 767 students surveyed in a 2019 LGBT Youth Study, 67% reported that family members, specifically parents, often make comments, remarks, or jokes about the LGBTQ community.

Among the same 767 students, around 15% believe that referring to someone as “gay,” fag,” or “queer,” “is no big deal,” researchers say. Heterosexuals are seemingly unaware of the effect microaggressions have on others and do not view them as acts of discrimination, according to the Youth Study.

Many individuals have struggled with deciding how and when to come out and deemed it a difficult process to endure. Statistically, 56% or, most LGBTQ individuals, only come out to one parent, their mother, according to a Pew Research Survey on LGBT Americans.

Those who came out to their mother claimed that it strengthened their relationship, whereas the 39% who came out to their father claimed it did not damage their relationship, according to the survey.

Children are less likely to come out to their fathers because of their stereotypical views of gender expectations and same-sex attractions, experts explained in the article “Coming Out to Dad: Young Gay and Bisexual Men’s Experiences Disclosing Same-Sex Attraction to Their Fathers” published in The American Journal of Men’s Health in 2014.

For these reasons, Boccuti said she struggled to tell her mother she was gay at age 14. “Most people do not know what it is like to come out to your family, how emotionally frustrating it is, how anxious you get,” Boccuti said, which is why she came out to her mother via email:

“I just need you to understand some things… Gay is so commonly used as an insult nowadays,” Boccuti wrote her mother. “I walk through the hallway and hear some kid make fun of his friend, teasing him and calling him gay. Gay is substituted quite often with stupid or something similar. Even you sometimes say, ‘oh, that’s too gay.’ People say ‘if someone calls you gay or any other name, then it is bullying, but if someone called me gay, it would just be the truth. By now, I’ve kind of gotten used to it. I don’t get offended by these things anymore (except dad enrages me sometimes), but I really needed to write you this email.

So, in words, I am gay. I like girls the way I am ‘supposed’ to like boys. Sometimes it feels like I need to apologize for being me. No one really understands me on this….But none of those people really matter, as long as you support me.”

Boccuti’s mother emailed back, saying that she will always love her unconditionally and apologized for the few instances in which she misused the term. “...Don’t ever, ever feel like you have to apologize for being yourself,” Boccuti’s mom wrote. “I love you with all my heart... You are a beautiful person and should hold your head high.”

Boccuti and her mother have a strong bond and are very close to this day, but she never came out to her father because he has expressed his homophobic views over the years, and she does not need his approval, according to Boccuti.

Boccuti eventually gained support from friends and family and became head of the Gay-Straight-Alliance club at her high school. “Because I embraced my gayness, people would seek advice and come out to me before coming out to their friends and family,” Boccuti said. “I was confident, and they trusted me.”

According to Boccuti, having a GSA club in her school helped many teenagers with the coming out process because they were not alone. She said the club helped to educate and bring awareness to the LGBTQ community.

After attending Tyler School of Art and Architecture until spring 2019, Boccuti began working as a full-time barista at Starbucks. She said she enjoys living in Philadelphia because she is surrounded by people who look and dress just like her.

Although Boccuti lives in a city with those of whom she can identify with, she said she is often misgendered because she is a masculine-presenting woman. “People just assume that since I look masculine, I identify as a guy,” Boccuti added. “I learned to embrace it all, though. One time a kid shouted ‘Lesbian!’ in the hallway, and I just turned around and said, ‘What?’”

Gif created by Rosie Leonard on Giphy.com

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unloneliest · 4 years

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hi i don’t think pan ppl are transphobic, just because bi ppl can be attracted to 2+ genders and pan are attracted to all doesn’t mean pan ppl or bi ppl are transphobic. i deal w panphobic things anytime anyone mentions pansexuality and i really thought your blog would be safe from that. i'm pan and don’t use bi bc i recognize i'd be attracted to someone regardless of gender identity as long as i find them attractive (and this has nothing to do w seeing trans ppl as a dif gender), if they're 1/

this is a long post & i want ppl to have the option 2 skip it so i’m putting it under a readmore; above all else i’m so thankful that you sent me these asks and deeply sorry that i rb’d something that made you feel unsafe on my blog. i agree with you; i don’t think bi or pan people are inherently transphobic and i’m really sorry i implied that with that post!

2/ if they ID as demiboy or demigirl, or genderfluid or anything else that isn't binary, then i really don’t care. i'm not saying bi ppl can’t feel the same since i said bi people are attracted to 2+ genders or all, but pan is rooted in the emphasis of all gender identities. yes theres a lot of overlap but just... i'm hurt that you'd rb smth like that, i understand the last line of its root in transphobia but being gay/straight and so many other things have issues that clash w other LGBT+ IDs

3/ if anything, i've dealt with internalized panphobia and homophobia, i just never felt comfortable with saying i was bi, not because it was "boring" or "binary" but bc everyone would just assume i was attracted to guys and women which was never the case and saying i was pan allowed for me to show that i knew that there are more than 2 gender identities and that i was attracted to all of them

hi its the 3 pt ask anon and its like i completely get why bi ppl would be upset w pan ppl but its just so hard when both are oppressed and one of the most common arguments is like: we aren't seen so we have to be seen first before you try to get into this too. i get why biphobia exists but the same biphobia exists for pan ppl. so many ppl say you're just straight bc of a het relationship or you're just bi then. or the whole theres only two genders argument. and its like i'm as open to dating

5?/ anyone. i genuinely do not care about whichever gender they ID as since i just find ppl attractive for being attractive. and bi ppl can be the same. there is a LOT of overlap and i'm not going to dismiss any worries or concerns. all i know is that the pan community i've surrounded myself with to find love in my sexuality and community have constantly explained that theres overlap but it depends to the person and neither sexuality is transphobic so i try to never overstep or invalidate either

but thank you for listening, so many ppl just invalidate pan voices who try to put both bi and pan ppl into view while acknowledging how theres overlap but theres a difference. its hard feeling invalidating when all i (and others) do is be as inclusive as possible and try to never overstep. i listen to others worries like you do and i've learned so much from your blog and your rbs which i appreciate. it was just hard seeing panphobia & biphobia when i've tagged both to filter the words out

8?? sorry i lost count/ ty again for listening

hi and again just. thank you, for sending me these. i’ve privated the post for now, because i don’t want to hurt anybody but i also don’t want to avoid accountability 4 hurtful actions; i’d most like to delete the post but probably only will if you’re ok with that. and if i ever rb something that includes biphobia or panphobia i’ll do my best to always tag them.

and again i’m so sorry to have rb’d a hurtful post especially bc that runs so opposite to what i want to be doing with this blog & i know that when i’ve found something hurtful shared in spaces i viewed as safe it’s somehow hurt a lot worse than when i’ve encountered hurtful attitudes in places i was expecting it.

in retrospect the phrasing on that post was Not kind, & didn’t convey the nuance i read into it. my baseline assumption of both bi and pan people is that neither group is inherently transphobic; both identities have extremely similar experiences and my perspective on different lgbtq+ identities in general is that our strength is in solidarity and isolating/separating can be really dangerous to the lgbtq+ community’s ability to thrive and work on making the world better and safer for us all.

i’m really glad that you’ve found love and support within the pan community and i have all the respect and admiration in the world for my bi and pan siblings in the lgbtq+ community! being able to find folks who share your identity and to find pride in yourself together is so healing and important and i’m so glad for the times i’ve experienced that in my life as well.

you’re right that all communities do have issues with transphobia, and i normally wouldn’t join in on other identity’s in-community conversations; i thought about that when reblogging the post earlier but i do my best to rb posts asking people to examine if their beliefs and identity might be formed on transphobic assumptions when it comes to all labels and that’s why i did originally rb. i do my best to rb a lot of posts asking wlw to examine potentially transphobic ideas they might hold, because i’m an afab nonbinary wlw and so regardless of the fact that i’m not cis, i have a lot more privilege than trans women do in wlw spaces and i know i need to be doing what i can to make wlw spaces safe for trans women & girls.

and the post i rb’d did just have pretty shitty & confrontational wording, which i didn’t think about when rb’ing it. i’m sorry again for that!

my reasoning in rb’ing that post was the same as when i rb posts asking wlw to examine their views; not that everyone of the groups in question are inherently shitty in some way, but that we all could use reminders to reflect sometimes and that occasionally people will be misinformed or have a shitty view/shitty views - but that that’s not the norm. i also felt more ok rb’ing this post bc i for a very long time id’d as bi, and my attraction as a lesbian still is to women and nonbinary people who don’t feel misgendered by the attraction of a lesbian; some people would call me bi for that, but it’s a common lesbian experience. i really relate to what you said about choosing pan because it really clearly sends the message that you’re attracted to people regardless of gender, bc i chose lesbian as a label bc it sends the message that i’m Not attracted to men! it’s about how i want people to see me.

my reading of the post was connected to experiences i had with some pretty shitty transphobic ex coworkers; they didn’t know i wasn’t cis, but a number of my coworkers at the time were bi. transphobia/biphobia tw for the rest of this paragraph/ the ex coworkers were pan and they adamantly told me/other coworkers that bisexuality was attraction to men and women whereas pansexuality was attraction to men, women, and trans people. my assumption based off of them wasn’t that pan people are transphobic/that pan as an identity is inherently transphobic, but that they as individuals sucked and were transphobic & biphobic?

that experience does touch on what the post was about though, i think. since the bi manifesto written in 1990 “official” definitions of bisexuality have been stating that bi doesn’t just mean attraction to men and women, and that there are more than 2 genders; it’s society’s biphobia that causes people to think that bisexuality isn’t inherently inclusive of more than 2 genders/inherently inclusive of trans people. its clear to me that you know there’s overlap in the communities and that you’re not transphobic and again that’s my baseline assumption of pan or bi people! ik that stinkers are always the exception in communities.

i rb’d the post because i think self reflection on internalized bs is good, and i didn’t realize how confrontational & potentially shitty the post was; i’m really sorry that i rb’d it and made my blog feel unsafe & i’m going to do my best to be more thoughtful in the future. i hope that me sharing why i rb’d it doesn’t come across as an excuse, either; i’m just hoping knowing my intentions might help w/ the experience.

(if ppl must know, link to the post here )

#biphobia/#panphobia/#<-discussion of #ik how much it sucks to have ppl say your identity is inherently transphobic ppl say that abt lesbians a LOT and its not true #anon #den replies

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