#does not wanting to be trans come from my not wanting to be a man or societal views of being trans?

[opalcicle]

In the Woods Somewhere

Ch. 2 Rainy Morning

trans male reader x Slimecicle, one bed trope, horror themes

Waking up to the smell of a fire already going, I turn to see that Charlie's already up and out of the tent. I'm feeling cold, and a little stiff. I check my phone and remove it from the portable charger we have set up, 8 am. It's early. With a big stretch and a yawn I find my shoes near the entrance of the tent and slip out to see a cloudy sky.

Charlie's tending the fire, and looks at me with a big genuine smile, "Hey, good morning!"

"Morning," I reply, stretching again. "Fuck it's early, how long have you been up?"

"Maybe like an hour,"

"Damn dude," there's a morning grumpiness in my voice that I try my best to shake off, "you eat yet?"

"Just some snacks," he admits, "thought it might be nice to wait for everyone."

"Snacks sound good," I yawn as I finish the words, walking over to the truck to fish out a bag of chips and a bottled ice coffee before settling in a chair next to Charlie.

Thankfully he allows me to sit in silence and finish waking up. Charlie's crashed at mine enough times to know I'm not a morning person. Time moves, but the clouds don't, painting everything in a light gray. The wind blows a cool breeze, and Charlie adds a couple more logs to the fire before I'm finally ready to be a whole person and interact.

"I was really hoping to spend some time at the beach today," I say, looking at the sky.

"I mean we can, but like, it might rain," Charlie frowns at the clouds. "Maybe we should set a tarp up over the picnic table,"

I groan out a complaint at the concept of getting up to do something.

"C'mon man, it'll take like 10 minutes," he says, standing.

"Fiine," comes out of my mouth in annoyance, and I join Charlie at the truck, collecting the tarp while he collects rope. He does most of the work, I just have to stand and hold things in place while he ties knots around trees and adjusts the tarp to cover the table. In my groggy state I can't help but imagine him tying me up instead. Just as we get seated back at the fire, Charlie adding another log, Ted joins us from his tent.

"Mmm-morning," he greets through a yawn, grabbing himself a coffee before sitting down. Somehow Ted is his usually chatty self right off the bat, and keeps Charlie entertained.

I sink down into the chair and pull my hood up to keep out the cold, tuning out the other two and closing my eyes for a quick rest.

When I open my eyes again after what feels like minutes, Ted's cooking pancakes on a frying pan over the fire, Schlatt's up, bottle in hand, and the three of them are laughing.

"Oh shit," I say, sitting up.

"Eyy! There he is!" Schlatt says, sounding condescending to my waking ears, "Good morning, sleepyhead,"

"Fuck how long was I out," I grumble.

"Like 30 minutes," Charlie responds, "you looked so cozy we didn't want to wake you,"

"Thanks man," I say, stretching out my now very stiff back, "Ah, sorry Ted I was gonna make breakfast,"

"No worries dude," he responds, eyes focused on the pancake he's attempting to flip. Glancing down into the fire, it looks like he's tipped a few in already.

By the time everyone's got their pancakes I feel a heavy drop of rain hit my head. We move quickly to get our chairs and the hammock under tarps, and eat while the rain comes down faster and puts out the fire.

"Good timing," says Ted, through a mouthful of pancake, "at least we got to have breakfast,"

Schlatt makes a noise that sounds like agreement as he chews. Then he asks, "Well, what's the plan today, boys?"

"I dunno man, it wasn't supposed to rain at all this week," there's a disappointment in Charlie's voice.

"We could always drive into town, it seemed nice," Ted suggested, refering to the small down with a grocery store, a bar, and absolutely nothing else. I silently thank myself that I'd recently changed my ID marker. A small town bar does not sound like a fun place to be noticeably trans.

"Yeah, I could go for a drink," Schlatt replies, deadpan, before taking a sip of his open beer.

Ted shoots him a disapproving look.

"I guess, I was hoping to spend sometime outside," Charlie says.

"Be my guest," Ted jests, motioning towards the water falling from the sky.

"I'm down to head into town, it's like 20 minutes out, we can always come back if it clears up quick," I say after finishing my pancakes.

"Yeah, let's check it out," Charlie shrugs. My lips curl in amusement at how easily he agrees with me.

From the backseat of the vehicle I peer our into the other campsites. Expecting to see the campgrounds empty and deserted, I'm shocked when I see two kids in rain boots running through the rain. A disgruntled looking mom with an umbrella is trailing behind them. There's a man in a portable gazebo reading a book. There's a couple walking a weiner dog that tries to get in every puddle. In the seat opposite of me Charlie's people watching too.

"How'd you find this place, anyways, Ted?" Charlie pipes up. From the slight furrow of his brows I assume he's got similar suspicions as me. Maybe we shouldn't have joked about it being haunted, maybe we both scared ourselves.

"I booked it online! It had great reviews and decent prices, the beach looked good. There weren't many spaces for RVs and I think most people camp that way now." Ted brags about his find.

Charlie and I exchange a look, uncertainty in both of our eyes.

"I still can't believe you guys convinced me to come out here," Schlatt grumbles. The high maintenance man had brought a lot of luxuries, and we'd all bought him a lot of booze.

"Yeah, you love it out here," Ted says.

"Yeah, whatever," Schlatt pouts. He does love it though. We all know he loves being away from city noise and people, the fresh air, and the ability to just relax. He'd been pretending to complain about it for weeks.

It's an old town. The bar is almost saloon style and the little grocery store has yellow cracking bricks.

Schlatt, of course wants to head right to the bar. I accompany him there while the other two check out the rest of the town. They give me a sympathetic look, but Charlie knows my snacks and Ted'll make sure we get anything we need and more. I shrug when they drop us off.

It's still early enough in the day that the only other patrons are a group of elderly men sipping coffee in a corner. Schlatt stops at the bar and I find us a seat in a booth by a window. The cold wooden bench and rain on glass makes me feel like I'm in a music video for a sad country song.

"So what's up with you and Charlie?" Schlatt questions, sliding me my bottle.

"Hmm?" I'm broken from my daydream with a start.

"You know what I mean," he takes a swing, "out till after dark, the looks you give eachother, the way he dotes on you,"

I look at his smirking face and roll my eyes, "I don't think it's like that,"

"Yeah, yeah, I saw you fuckers holding hands,"

"No, I mean, I was just scared," I mumble the end of the sentence.

"What'd you say?"

"I said I was scared," I turn my face away from him, back to the window.

"Oh no, I'm so scared, I need big strong Charlie to hold my hand," he mocks.

"Dude, serious shut up, it was freaky out there," I weakly defend myself.

Just then, a bird lands in the window beside us, directly in front of my face. It's small and yellow with deep black eyes that stare straight through me.

"Awe look at the little guy," Schlatt touches his fingertips to the window pane. The bird hops over to the spot Schlatt's finger is touching, tapping from its side of the glass. "He likes me!"

Tap tap. Tap tap. We both watch the bird. Tap tap. Tap tap tap tap taptaptaptap. The feathery ball of sunshine ruffles itself up and stretching its wings before hopping farther down the sill. Another one lands where the first one did. It's the same bright yellow with black eyes. Thunk. It raps on the window hard, shaking it's head. Taptaptaptap thunk.

"Oh shit, maybe the windows not good for them," Schlatt stands to pull the curtain across the window just after a third joins the others.

"Weird little guys," I murmur, missing the grey light of the cloudy sky immediately.

"You should make a move," he returns to our prior conversation. "I bet Ted ten bucks you would first,"

"Oh my god. Drop it," I try to seem stern but the red in my cheeks is making it hard. "It's not happening,"

"Sure, sure," he says, pretending to back off. I know it's gonna come up again.

"He's only dated girls, were just friends," I mutter.

"Dude, seriously," Schlatt takes a sip, "I don't think he's straight,"

A flicker of hope wells up and dies quick. We're just friends. I repeat it in my head.

From behind me the sound of tapping grows in crescendo and I flick my head around to see the birds at the window next to us. There's maybe six now, all crowded up as close to me as they can get, pushing eachother to get closer. A chill passes over me as their eyes and beaks all point in my direction. Taptaptaptap, another lands, knocking one of its kin away from the sill. TAPTAPTAPTAP, then another, and another, and - SLAM! The sound of the bartender hitting a broom against the glass rings through my ears. I jump, making it most of the way out of my skin when she turns to me.

She's older, maybe mid-40s, with a look about her like she's been tending this place for years. She's comfortable, or maybe just oblivious; enough so to slam a broom against a glass behind someone's head. With a sour tone she says aloud, "Little fuckers!" When she catches the obvious fear on my face she sweetens herself, "Sorry love, gotta scare 'em off before they bring a whole flock 'round." With a sympathetic smile she returns to the bar.

As I turn back to Schlatt I catch the eyes of one of the men here for coffee. The whole group of them is looking my way. When they see I've noticed they all turn back to their table. Schlatt, on the other hand, is staring at me with a shit-eating grin.

"Scared of some birds?" he quips.

"Of a woman wielding a big stick near my head!" I defend myself.

"Thought you'd like a big stick near your head." he takes a sip, "or is it just Charlie's?"

"Oh my god!" groan in exasperation, kicking at his ankle under the table.

"Watch it!" He doesn't drop the smile.

"I know where you're sleeping," I threaten, pressing fingers into my temples.

By the time the other two meet us we're both three beers in and I'm about ready to strangle Schlatt.

"Hey!" Ted calls excitedly when he sees us. "You should have seen the store- it's got all these old timey display cases-" he slides in beside Schlatt to show him pictures.

Schlatt takes a glance at the screen, but not before giving me a side-eye as Charlie takes the spot next to me. "Yeah man, that's cool,"

While Ted goes through the pictures with Schlatt, Charlie raises an eyebrow at the empty bottles next to us. I silently convey my exasperation through a look that lets him know I'm maybe 10 minutes out from strangling our friend.

"They got anything to eat by here?" Ted's head turns towards the bar. The bartender is leaned on the back counter, going through her phone. "Should we stay for lunch?"

Shifting beside me, Charlie speaks up, "It look's like the sun was breaking, I don't wanna miss beach time." He tries to hide the slight whine in his voice but it's peaks through on the wanna.

An involuntary giggle leaves my lips and I cut it off with a hand slapped over my mouth. The look Ted and Schlatt exchange in response makes me physically cringe.

"Yeah, fine, let's go back," Schlatt agrees in his huffy half-annoyed tone.

While Schlatt pays for his drinks and I wait for my turn with what seems like an old and unreliable machine, I overhear the old men.

"Don't forget to lock your cows up this year, Bill," one of them says with a laugh.

"I fuckin' locked 'em up, the damn things knocked right through the old wall," another, presumably Bill, grumbles.

"Stupid things scared the shit out of us!" a third one joins the laughter.

"Trampled themselves too," Bill rubs a tremble, "no fuckin' cows getting out this year,"

Their conversation drifted on to new topics, but my mind hovered over the words this year. Trepidation makes space for itself in my gut as I mull over what I heard.

I'm brought back to the present by Schlatt's hand patting my shoulder, "Your turn, man,"

"Oh uh, yeah," I step up to the debit machine and absentmindedly make the payment.

We join the guys at Ted's truck and take off back to the campgrounds. The drive back is filled with music and singing and the weirdness at the bar fades out behind us.

After a lazy few hours the sun eventually catches up with the day, and it's not long before it's warm enough to warrant a trip down to the beach. I've managed to put back a few more drinks with Schlatt and a game of cards when Charlie comes bursting out of our tent with board shorts on.

"Beach?" He announces the question.

When my eyes find him I can't seem to peel them away. Fuck, is all I can think to myself until I get kicked under the picnic table.

"Ouch, what the fuck?" I swing my legs out to rub the shin Schlatt just booted.

"Yeah man, gimme like ten minutes," Ted answers from the hammock.

"I need a nap," Schlatt stretches, getting up to take Ted's spot.

"I'll get ready," I shoot daggers at Schlatt. His eyes are closed as he settles but his big goofy grin lets me know he heard the spite in my voice.

In the tent I dig through my bag for swimwear. I hold the shirt I usually wear at the pool in my hands, kneeled on the mattress, deciding. No one knows me here, could I just go without? Scars showing. I absently trace a finger over one of the surgery scars on my chest, then touch the little bit of stubble on my face.

Just outside the tent, Charlie grabs the zipper, "Hope your dick's away, I'm coming in!"

"Yeah, man," I respond, hearing the anxiety in my own voice.

He clocks it immediately, climbing in beside me and zipping us in, "Hey, what's up?"

"I-" don't know how to respond. I clutch the shirt in my hands and just hold it up.

I see his eyes look at the piece of clothing, the one he'd seen me in when we swim laps. It takes him a moment to understand but I see it click in his eyes when he does.

"Oh, uh, okay," he settles himself down next to me. He places a hand on my back in a way that I know is supposed the be comforting, but his touch on my bare skin makes it prickle.

I fight the moan trying to escape my throat and it thankfully comes out as a cough. Fuck, am I hard? Charlie rubs my shoulder and for a second I think I'm going to fall over.

"You don't have to wear it," he says softly.

"I know," is the only reply I can give.

"Here, let me see," Charlie moves to sit across from me and gently tugs the shirt away. My hands drop and my face goes red as his eyes fall over my chest. We're so close, and when he looks back up at my face and sees the blush he turns away fast. "You, uh, you look good man. I mean like, like a dude, no one's gonna say anything."

"Thanks!" I blurt out, sitting there stunned.

Charlie digs turns away to dig through his own bag. Awkward tension hangs between us. "Sorry dude I didn't mean to, like I wasn't trying to-"

"It's fine," I cut him off, turning to pretend to be busy with my own bag.

When he finds whatever he came in her for he leans forward to unzip the tent before leaning back, "Are you alright though?" the softness in his voice has returned.

"Yeah, yeah I'm good." I nod, tucking my shirt away, "I'm gonna go without,"

"Good!" He responds excitedly before correcting himself, "I mean like, good for you!"

I laugh, and push my luck to poke fun, "Sure dude,"

"I mean if anyone's a dick, we're already at a beach, they could totally accidentally drown," he attempts to dodge the gentle teasing.

I push it a little farther, leaning in, "Oh so you're gonna protect me?"

"Ah- that's not- uh fuck," he fumbles for something to say.

Laughter escapes me and I let him off the hook, turning back to my bag, "thanks man,"

"Yeah, no problem,"

Charlie makes his escape from the tent and I sit there for another minute. The buzz of booze his my head makes itself known in the silence. I slide a hand down my shorts and sure enough, my dick is at attention and there's wetness building between my legs. Fuck, Charlie. With my eyes closed I can only see his face as he looked over my chest. I finally let a quiet whine leave my lips. Maybe he does want me. Maybe it's the beers I've been putting back all day. With every inch of self control I have left I remove my hand from my shorts and leave the tent to join the others.

Ted drives us down to the beach, and we enjoy the sunshine, water, and sand for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. On the way back, we've got the windows down, singing some old country song along with the radio. In any other circumstance I'd groan at the twang, but something about being out in the woods makes it feel like it fits.

The rest of the evening and into the night we eat snacks, roast more hot dogs, play more cards, and drink around the cozy fire. Before it gets too dark each of us take turns heading down to the public showers. With the privacy and space of the stall I try my best to rub one out. The water is cold and I have to wear my flipflops on the slimey floors. I don't even get close before giving up.

When it's well into the night and everyone's heading to bed, I'm wide awake, drunk and hornier than I need to be. When I'm getting ready for bed I fumble out of my clothes and right on top of the blankets. Charlie's inside moments after me with his flashlight on, catching an eyeful of me in my boxers.

"Fuck man, I kinda tipped over changing," I laugh.

"Dude!" Charlie complains, "Put some pants on at least,"

I try my best to sit up, but fall right back on my face, giggling.

"Here, let me fucking help," Charlie sighs, looking through my bag for pjs, "Roll over."

"You're gonna put my pants on?" I say, unable to control the flirty teasing in my own tipsy voice, "Nice,"

"Fuck you're really drunk," he chirps right back. I can hear his smile through the exasperation.

I do roll over and manage to sit up, "You caught up to me not bad though,"

"Not even close the what you had," he tosses the pants at me.

I stand to try to put them on a flop back onto the air mattress before I even make it all the way up.

"Hopeless," he mutters, taking my pjs and trying to get my foot in through a leg.

"Charliiieee," I whine, resisting the help.

"Dude, seriously," he gets one legs through and starts on the other foot.

In the process of trying to dress me, Charlie ends up hovered over me between my legs. The whole thing has my dick throbbing and I just watch his mild frustration with awe. When he directs me to lift myself and pulls my pants the rest of the way up his hands slide up over my hips, stopping to rest on them. The squeak that leaves me sounds pathetic and I slap my hand over my mouth. One of my feet rests flat on the mattress, my knee up in the air. His body slides against my thigh when he does eventually sit up. Thankfully my hand over my mouth hides me biting into my bottom lip hard, suppressing more sounds.

"Dude, chill out," he laughs as he attempts to stand. The wobbly surface of the mattress takes him out and he falls forward, catching himself with hands on either side of my head.

I'm wide eyed as the sudden pressure on the inflatable bed bounces me up towards him. Our faces on inches from eachother. So of course, my dumb ass cracks a joke, "Damn, man, you didn't have to get me drunk to get me under you,"

"Fuck you," he grumbles, but I can hear the smile in his face in the dark.

"I mean, if you want to," I joke right back.

There's a pause from him before he pulls away again, this time rolling to the side to avoid falling. "Man, you are really wasted,"

"Guilty," I wait till he's off the mattress before climbing to my pillow and finding my way under the cozy blankets.

I hear him changing with my face turned away and my thoughts flutter over our day. Schlatt's words, Charlie in his swim shorts, his eyes on my chest, and that pause just now when I told him he could fuck me. God, there's something really wrong with me. I chastise myself. Then, after another thought, no there's not, he fucking wants me.

When Charlie settled into his spot, I consider briefly trying to hold his hand again before drifting off to sleep.

In the early hours I'm ripped from my dreams by a shaking. My hazy consciousness notices it's a hand on my shoulder jostling me awake.

"Dude, what the-?" I start, but Charlie's hand quickly covers my mouth. He's sweating.

"Shh! Listen," he whispers, letting go of my face.

I rub my temples with a hand, still a little drunk and in the early stages of a developing hangover. Then, there it is, in the distance. A barking. It's just a dog? In the dark, I shoot him daggers with my eyes for waking me. Suddenly there's another dog yapping much closer. Likely the weiner dog from a few campsites down. Then another from a different direction. Coyotes join in, yipping in chorus. The sound grows as canines from all over the woods join in.

"It's dogs, Charlie," I grumble under my breath. It's quite erie, but nothing unexpected for the middle of the forest.

"Wait," he whispers. The terror in his breath alerts me, and I also start to feel on edge.

Before long, the surrounding barking is cut off by a long howl. A wolf, but definately nowhere close to us. The dogs pause, the wolf bellows again, and the rest of the yapping group joins it. The howling comes from every direction in synch. I feel the hairs on my arms raise.

"Wait," Charlie says again. His hand never left my shoulder and it starts to squeeze, warning me that this isn't the worst of it.

When the howl dies I hold my breath in anticipation. The lone wolf starts, and when the dogs join in the don't howl, they don't bark. The sound they make is choppy, sporadic.

"Oh my god, they're laughing," I whisper. It's not a sound that should come from a dog's throat. The noise is unnatural, unnerving, but unmistakable.

Beside me Charlie is shaking. "They just keep doing this," there are tears in his voice.

"Hey, hey, it's gonna be okay," I say in an attempt to sooth him.

The shaking gets worse, and I take his hand off my shoulder. Working hard to move my body, I turn to him, sliding one arm under his head and wrapping the other around him. It's not hard to get him closer, he practically rushes into my arms. He settles his head on my chest and I stroke his hair as I hold him tight. Tears run down my bare skin, and I can hear Charlie sniffling.

"Shh, shhhh, I've got you, we're safe," I whisper as he curls up as close as he can get.

"I'm sorry," he whispers back.

"No worries, I've got you," I whisper back.

We lay like that for awhile, and eventually he falls asleep. My eyes are open, staring up into the pitch black of the tent. As I think about the days events I think instead of the birds on the window, the men talking about cows breaking down a wall, and the strange laughter of the dogs in the woods somewhere. I fall asleep too, but not easily, and my dreams are filled with little yellow birds with black beady eyes.

[meowsticmarvels]

we are so fucking back. despite intending to go into vlr/ztd spoiler free i could not handle it anymore and ended up spoiling myself on a few things (...not everything bc its Mostly just related to characters I care abt and im gonna try and gaslight myself into pretending I didn't see it anyway).

but oh my fucking god clocking phi as transfem in the first hour of vlr was some incredible foresight because she is even more transgender than I thought

original post here if anyone wants to see it or my additional reblog but god. im crazy

[graff-aganda]

I keep thinking about this (and it's not exactly a high bar to reach or anything) but the way Biosphere handled the gender/sex stuff was like the perfect blend of in character for two middle aged cis dudes (from the story perspective) and also being mindful/aware/respectful of transgender people (from a more meta perspective, though somewhat in the story also) and it honestly just kind of impressed me.

[beepbeepmfkr]

"I can't get everything I want from this politician so obviously the solution is to throw a tantrum and not participate! That'll show them!" - person who is very likely not at personal risk of being murdered or hate crimed by an institution getting pushed further right than it already is.

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

last years pride i had a sexuality crisis and this year a few days later im having a gender one. fuck.

[erotetica]

‘the old guard’ is the name of a lil queer opera company tho.

They do Shakespeare in the park-type stuff. Nicky is a basso profondo & baritone Yusuf is marked down as annoyed and horny. The Plot is that Andy is a dramatic contralto & she takes the male/butch leads in drag, opposite quynh’s soprano (iirc contralto is the deepest register for women on a scale similar to the male tenor. whom also iirc usually get leading-man roles. Anyway it’s SUPER fascinating 2 me 2 swap them.) When quynh leaves, booker, a high tenor, does her bits in drag. There’s not as much vocal contrast between Booker and Andy tho, so after some faffing he goes back to his usual, supporting female roles, & enter Nile as prima donna soprano. Coolgirl career prima donna at Big Opera Houses, joining the guard to do queer shit. I think she’s a coloratura/whereas quynh was more of a Wagnerian soprano, & she fills the void quynh left with her own, brighter vocal style (themes & metaphors etc)

[boy-bi]

hi please also tag like what u consider extensively. a bit freaking out right now. also pls rb i need a larger sample size (stats tumblr stay away)

[isekyaaa]

Tbqh the only reason why I don't write original fiction is because I don't feel confident in writing a realistic man. Which is funny because I can write men in fanfiction, but like.... Tbh, I don't think they're very realistic men either. People don't talk like men from games, manga, etc. Which I suppose someone can say, "Well if fictional men don't sound like real men, then why do you need to worry so much?" And I suppose that's a valid point. But still, regardless of how logical it is, I want to write a realistic man.

[edwardallenpoe]

EXACTLY this

But ALSO

I've seen a lot when talking to acquaintances and even strangers that because I'm fat and black they'll try to uplift me and try to affirm my femininity. Like, "I know it must be hard at your size, I totally understand, but you got this girl, you're as pretty as anyone else!!!" Like. Thank you.?????? you could just. Say I'm pretty.

That's the struggle, right? I'm GNC, and I'm fat, and I'm black with natural hairstyles (Afro, cornrows, now Locs, all of which are gender neutral), so I don't try to adhere to white gender norms and so no one compliments me because I'm not what they want, but the people that do compliment me is trying to encourage me and be hyper-accepting while completely missing the mark.

I don't need a congratulations. I don't need to be told I'm "woman enough" or I'm "just so brave" because I'm fat and have a natural hairstyle in public. I've accepted who I am. I LIKE who I am. stop making assumptions about my self esteem. Just say you like my style.

It's just, like op said, people make assumptions about people's gender expression based on the shapes and colors of your body even though those things inherently have nothing to do with it. When people see me, they see a butch lesbian, which I am, because that's how I present, but they also assume I'm cis and because I'm fat I must be insecure and secretly want to be feminine and just resorted to masculinity because of bullying and I'm miserable. STOP. DOING. THAT.

Me personally?? If I see someone, all I'm assuming is that they're wearing clothes they put on their body to be in public and that is ALL. I don't know how they identify!!!! I don't know what their perception of femininity and masculinity is!!! Until they tell me "hey, I consider myself x/y/z" I'M NOT ASSUMING SHIT

ok but racism and fatphobia in the queer community is crazy btw. Like sometime you gotta ask,

Are they butch/masc or are they a poc? Are they fem or are they white? Are they androgynous or are they skinny? Is their hair style choice non conforming or is it just not straight/fluffy? Honestly sometimes I see some strange things being said up in here, and irl too. I just. Idk mann

[drdemonprince]

Is there a polar opposite of transphobia?

Like I’m a newly transitioned trans man and suddenly everyone wants a piece of me. In a weird way. Like people have started asking me to join committees and talk to youth groups and shit so they have their “representation”. I’m now the token trans person. I live in a small lefty town. People either want to ask me allllll the questions or they are too scared to even talk to me in case they offend me. Suddenly everyone wants to be my friend. I feel like I’ve joined a club I did not agree to sign up to. Like is this normal? Is there a term for it? I have a lot of gay male friends who are awesome, no other trans people local. I’ve started connecting with people online.

I mean some people have been cunts for sure. But mostly it’s nauseating fawning. I know this is a stupid thing to be complaining about but I guess I’m curious.

I’m not that special, I’m actually just an angry little man.

My brother dear, what you are experiencing is a very common combination of the growing visibility & tokenization of being a newly out marginalized person, and the massive increased authority, social trust, social value that comes with being a man.

Welcome to male privilege baby, to put a spin on a far more undermining phrase that typically gets hurled at trans femmes. You will be considered a trustworthy authority on trans issues, a valuable contributor to panels and workshops, a needed (but also highly convenient to access) form of "diversity" for a workplace, a welcome attendee at all manner of events, and you'll be deferred to over women, especially trans women, for pretty much the entire rest of your life, if you continue to remain out about the trans side of things.

Guys like us are invited, centered, included, listened to, treated with respect, treated with WARMTH, viewed as intelligent, perceptive, sensitive, safe, trustworthy, reliable, and desirable to include. In the eyes of the cis public, we are a "safe" kind of trans person who does not make people uncomfortable to look at and who doesn't challenge their pre-existing understanding of gender hierarchy; when they listen to us, they get to trust in the certainty of a MAN giving them information, but they can also feel comfortable and safe around us as a kind of enlightened, sensitive nonthreatening figure.

We're men who can can explain sexism right back to women. We're trans people who went from being subjugated as women to being rewarded with privilege as dudes. In this way, trans men being positioned as an authority figure reinforces the existing gender hierarchy, which feels soothing and right to people's brains.

You will have to be conscious of this power differential for the rest of your life, around cis and trans women alike, because otherwise it plays out in a pretty traditionally sexist fashion: people (especially women) will go quiet when you start speaking, you will be given credit for ideas that were a collective effort, your emotions will be more likely to be taken seriously and seen as a sign of principle rather than weakness, and you will be regarded as special and memorable while dozens of other people and their concerns are passed over.

Another factor that is at play here is a phenomenon that is less specifically gendered, because it does happen to trans women too, and that's the phenomenon of cis groups making the newly-out trans person their token and educator, because typically it is the newly out person whom they have the most access to and power over.

The moment that a trans person transitions they immediately start getting singled out as an expert and resource on the trans experience, asked to lead workshops at their jobs and explain concepts to people and attend events and sit on panels. I think on some intuitive level cis people kinda *know* that the newly out are in a vulnerable, uncertain state and have fewer communities ties and less experience than more seasoned trans people do, and so they make the ideal "translator" of trans experiences to them as an audience.

In cis people's minds, you're not gonna push back, you're not going to complicate their narratives, you're not gonna be tired of answering offensive questions, and you will be freely available to them as a resource, because you've just come out. You'll put a friendly face on transition, one marked by newness and hope, rather than be jaded, complicated, or assertive at them. That's their expectation.

It makes no logical sense to make a newly out member of the community the arbiter of transness or the educator on the trans experience, but it DOES make sense that a powerful group would view such a disempowered and disconnected (relatively speaking) member of the trans community to be the most attractive to include.

Of course, this might not be true to who you actually are. But on a gut level, this is how the newly out trans person is typically seen: nonthreatening, moldable, convenient, so thankful to be included that they won't be angry. And you will be doubly rewarded for fulfilling that role if you are a man.

The only way to upend this narrative being forced onto you is for you to speak up, every single time you are invited to an event, and demand that just as many trans women be included in that event as trans men. Make sure to have a nice list of experienced, wise trans femme friends whom you can recommend as speakers and co-panelists in your pocket.

More often than not, you will be thanked by cis people and rewarded for having the brilliant idea of including women in a conversation about gender minority status. How the trans women in the equation get treated, well, you'll need to pay close attention to, and be ready to stand up and speak out the moment any passive aggressive exclusionary bio-essentialist fuckshit gets going. You can do it! And lots of times you ARE the person with the power to set things right. You're trans and you're being singled out, but you also are a man.

[dark-dragon-8]

I want to see a fic where Tim and some other Batfamily member do the whole "I don't feel so good" "Maybe you're pregnant" meme, but the Batfamily doesn't know he's trans. So what happens is, he's actually panicking, thinking he may have forgotten to take his pills before sex and noting how he didn't get his period in a while (as a girl, I can confidently say that my period always feels like it's coming late or not coming at all, IDK you just forget when you're supposed to get it if you're not too attentive to it).

Que the Batkid that told him that (let's say it was Jason) laughing his ass off because Tim is actually worried about this, he's a man, he can't get pregnant yet for some reason he's getting worried.

Fast forward a week later, on the next family dinner, when Tim announces his pregnancy (the results came back positive) and lets the family know he was AFAB both at the same time. They're all speechless, not knowing if they should be worried, excited or just accepting & happy for him (which they were going to be anyway).

Bonus: In the background, Jason is blue screening because, he was right?!? And does that mean Tim would've kept on going on patrol and live life as normal if he hadn't said anything?! God, this kid, he's going to be the death of them all.

[I might actually write it, honestly, I just need to find the time, but I also want to read this from someone else's perspective on the story, so feel free to use this and please 🙏 do recommend some fic recs if you know/have any]

[ihavenomouthandimustmouth]

It seems like a lot of the anti-transmasculinity/transandrophobia discourse revolves around the ideas that either this does not occur, does not occur in real life, or is just transmascs viewing criticisms of transmisogynistic transmascs as oppression, so here’s a story.

I live with some other people around my age, and I stopped using my deadname with them earlier this year. it hasn’t been that long, about 3 months, but generally, they use my correct name with an occasional mistake, usually followed up by a correction. one of them, however, just cannot seem to stop deadnaming me, often without correcting afterwards. when they do notice they’ve gotten it wrong, it’s usually followed up by a big thing about how they don’t know why they’re so bad at it or blaming it on being drunk if they’re drunk, but often not an apology.

an additional piece of this—my partner, who is a trans woman, changed the name they use around the same time, but this person almost always gets her name right. this person knows me a bit better/longer than they do her, but not that much better/longer, and generally, when I am around them, my partner is also there. (adding a cut here because this is gonna be long)

I talked with my therapist about this at my last session. I was seeking advice on how to handle it, but I also spent a lot of time just complaining and running through different incidences of this happening. I ended up telling her about some of the weird things this person said to me when I first started socially transitioning, including them saying that they were sad when I came out because they (direct quote) “didn’t want to stop seeing me as a genderless elf” (???!?) (I had previously identified as nonbinary and used any pronouns) and followed that up by saying that they hated men, which they then followed up by saying “not trans men though” (which like okay but then why bring that up in this conversation).

In talking my therapist, I circled back to the deadnaming issue and said that I thought this person was doing this to me and not my partner because my partner is more feminine than I am masculine (in social behavior and the way we look as two people that have not started medically transitioning). my therapist pushed back on this and said that, based on all the things I said, it seemed more like this person just didn’t want to see me as a man.

this blew my mind a little because I, a transmasculine person who spends way too much time on trans and transmasc internet, did not put the situation in this context while my therapist, a cis woman who is supportive but not super aware of the trans experience, did. it made a lot of sense though, and fit into the context of my other experiences and interactions with this person.

this person is a nonbinary person who has never identified as or been seen as a man. they are supportive of trans people generally and of their rights. they are also someone who believes that woman are inherently better than men. this generally doesn’t have much of an impact on the cis men we live with—for them, this more comes as being around for jokes that might make them a little uncomfortable, but doesn’t stop them from being seen as men. for me, this means I have to deal with the fact that this person doesn’t want to see me as a man and deadnames me accordingly, seemingly because they see me transitioning as a loss.

my point here is that when transmasculine people say that there are issues they face specifically related to them being transmasculine, that’s not a lie or a hypothetical. there is a stark contrast between the way this person treats my transfem partner and myself (and, after talking with someone who’s lived here with this person for longer, other transmasculine people who have lived in the house). they are supportive of trans people as a group, but not of transmasculinity, and I have to deal with the consequences.

[genderkoolaid]

Tranny. Many people don’t know the history of the word, they assume it was an assigned hate term or slur along the lines of the “n” word. That’s not how it happened. Tranny was invented by us in Sydney, Australia in the 1970s where drag was a big deal, and still the best drag shows ever are in Sydney, Australia – they’re amazing. So a lot of trans-identified women who were assigned male at birth did drag, that’s how you made your living. And so they were transsexuals, transvestites, drag queens, and they were all doing drag to make money. They all bickered amongst each other who is better than who, “Well the drag queens are better,” “No, the transsexuals are better.” “You are all freaks, we’re better.” And on and on and on. But they worked together and they were family together, so they came up with a word that would say family and that was tranny. In Australia they do the diminutive, that’s how they come up with words. So tranny. I learned the word in the mid-1980s, late 1980s from my drag mom in San Francisco, Doris Fish, who was the city’s preeminent drag queen and she’d come from Sydney. And she schooled me in this word tranny, she said, “This way it means we’re family, darling.” “Thank you mama.” [...] So we used it and we were trannies together. And F to M was just beginning to start, the trans men were just beginning to become visible, Lou Sullivan was a neighbor of mine around the corner, and he was the first big out trans man, wrote his book. So trans men and cross dressers . . . cross dressers were also family. Transsexuals, we were all trannies and that felt good. That got into the sex industry and became a genre – there was tranny porn, there were tranny sex workers – chicks with dicks, she-males. [...] And, my only guess is that people who . . . because the only way they would have found out about the word is if they were watching tranny porn or having been with a tranny sex worker and then hated themselves so much that they turned it into a curse word. So it’s not really technically correct to say we’re reclaiming a word – it was always ours. So, many people mistake the word for the hatred behind the word and, in my generation, and I’m sure in future generations of trans people, tranny is going to be a radicalized, sexualized identity of trans in the same way that faggot is a prideful identity in the gay male community – not all gay men are faggots, but those who are are proudly fags and those who are dykes are proudly dykes within the lesbian community, trannies are proudly tranny within the transgender community. Does that mean we can’t call ourselves that because some trans woman does not want to be called a tranny? No. I’m going to keep calling myself a tranny. To the trans woman who gets called tranny, I’m sorry – as soon as . . . you’ve got to look at why you’re getting called tranny and if you don’t pass, you’re going to be read as a transgender person and then you fall back on the cultural view of trans folk which is freak, disgusting, not worth living, we can hurt you. It has nothing to do with the word, it has everything to do with the cultural attitude. So the word has stirred up a shit storm, but it’s not the word.

— Kate Bornstein on the word "tranny" in this oral history from the Digital Transgender Archive

[our-queer-experience]

posts like these really bother me because i feel like they entirely misinterpret what trans men and mascs say about our experiences and make it seem like we’re all tomboy lesbians while not explicitly saying that, hiding behind the guise of “it’s ok to be gnc”. ive also never seen a gender critical understand what gender non conformity is beyond not shaving, but that’s a separate point.

obviously there is nothing wrong with any of these things. they don’t inherently mean youre a transgender man.

but there’s a pretty big ‘but’ here.

why is op saying this?

who do you think their comment is directed at?

what do they want to achieve?

given everything, i’d say they believe trans men are just girls who hate their body and are confused as to why. it’s aimed at questioning trans boys who don’t know where their feelings are coming from. and op wants to convince them not to transition, to just stay gnc

now, about the actual post itself: i wouldn’t say its normal for cis girls to hate their sex characteristics. i’d say it’s common, just like feeling anxious is common, but not everyone has an anxiety disorder, yk? but not wearing makeup, crossdressing, disliking periods(who doesnt lol), being attracted to women… yea, that’s normal! but trans men who say “i do this so i think im a guy” arent saying any person assigned female who does this is a guy.

see, i fit… all of that criteria. i know cis women who fit all of that criteria. the difference here is what that means to us.

for me, i want to wear boys clothes AS A BOY. i have short hair because being read as a boy makes me feel seen, i want to grow it out once i pass. i hate my sex characteristics because i am a boy who wishes he was male. i like women as a straight guy. i wish i wasn’t a girl because i’m not one. i’m doing womanhood wrong because i am a man expected to be a woman.

my cis female friends may agree with the first half of each of those sentences, but not the why part. posts like that are misleading because they position being trans as wanting a haircut or being “same sex attracted”. as misinterpreting “normal girl things”.

im really sick of all these disingenuous gender criticals claiming to be doing this in support of gnc girls, when 1. very little understanding of gender non conformity is present and 2. it’s only to stop us from being so gnc we’re actually guys now.

[thefusioncelestial]

Mix 11: A Transition Complete

Anonymous asked:

Add a hung twink and jock type transman in your list

Life was great for Alex. He was on the basketball team & popular with everyone. You see everything about him screamed a fine specimen of a man. But he had an open secret.

He was trans. But look at him:

You couldn't tell. The chemical treatments were a resounding success. He had ladies all over him.

But there was one part that refused to change: his reproductive organs. He still had his initial parts despite the hormone regimes. Fertility tests showed that if he had sex with someone of the opposite parts, he would get pregnant. This greatly attracted other men to him. They wanted this stud to have their babies.

Alex was fine with this. However, the winds of society was blowing away from him. Transmen & Transwomen were being demonized. He was a political science major & knew that the next election was going to flip to those who hated people like him. He could get surgery and get an artificial man rod, but that meant bye bye to having kids of his own.

He needed a solution.

His close friends, that included Christian and Shun, knew of his worries. They pondered for a bit on what to do. They decided that Alex would join the fold.

After bringing him over, Alex was explained of the solution: He would merge with another dude. Take their manhood, be reborn completely without question as the man he desired to be.

But there was a problem.

They have never merged beings with opposite sexual organs. If it resulted in an true blending, then Alex would have a cross or both. It must be assimilation.

They had a target.

The annoying Fred:

A twink with a massive rod for his stature. He somehow found about about the David & Goliath Society and wanted in. Truth be told he just walked by the dorm while Shun was absorbing Tim. He heard the explanation, heard the process, and ran as Shun walked out the dorm.

No amount of history shifting would make him forget. The prospect of going from a twink to a buff man or at least an athletic one was too much for him to not want in.

He pestered Christian & Shun to upgrade him for a while. They decided to they would grant his wish, but on their own terms.

They were going to call Fred, but he was around the corner, coming to pester them again. He knocked on their door. He was let in.

Christian & Shun had large smiles on their faces.

"Congrats, you are getting your wish," Shun said.

Fred was excited, but before he could start bouncing with joy, he saw Alex.

"Am I about merge with the most desirable dude on campus," he asked in shock.

"Does he have the size I need," Alex asked.

"Size?" Fred asked.

"I need someone with an larger rod than what their body would suggest their body said they should have," Alex said.

They soon explained the situation to Fred.

He was a bit unnerved.

"You are asking me to get eaten by someone else instead of being the upgraded," he said.

"You get to become one with Alex, you know his rep. With your help, he can act out some of those activities. You'll get to feel what he feels, you get to experience a more mature body," Shun said.

He continued: "Tim in still in here, my experiences also flow to him. And he influences my decisions," he finished.

Alex blushed. Prior to this, Alex agreed to have kids with Shun if he couldn't find a partner by 28. A surrogate father. Tim's desire to start a family influenced Shun. Alex was perfect as far as he was concerned. But now his survival was at stake. He would have to become competition in earnest to live. Shun relished the challenge.

People like Fred looked up to Alex. He had everyone swooning over him. He walked out of many parties with people of both sex & genders literally hanging off his biceps. He could have that. He just got to give himself up.

"We could just force you, ask Tim," Christian said.

"Don't get so hasty. I'll bite," Fred responded.

"Show me you have the goods," Alex said.

Fred took out his phone and showed Alex a picture:

He was well hung alright. He revealed that he was a grower & that was it at rest.

Alex coughed at the prospect of getting it for himself. Fred just wanted the Alex experience. Basketball team, parties, people fawning over him.

They both stripped down to their birthday suits.

Christian took the necklace. Explained how it worked and put it on Alex.

To increase the chances of success. It was decided that Fred would hang on Alex's back like a cape. The idea of "pushing out" the old organs, and let Fred's settle in.

Fred was on Alex's back within the minute. Hanging on, excitedly.

The necklace melted in Alex.

Fred began to melt into Alex. Starting from the feet first and then processing upwards. Alex grunted. Fred blushed & moaned.

Then their reproductive organs & butt. Only Fred's upper half remained.

Stomach, chest, and arms followed. Fred, despite that fact that he was being assimilated was very happy. If he has to upgrade someone else, then Alex was his number one choice. Now only a neck and head, Fred pushed in, fusing starting from the back of Alex's skull.

He was gone. What was Fred was now a mix of dna & biomatter floating in Alex.

Alex & Fred's mind quickly merged. Alex did not want to reject any aspect of Fred and cause a feedback loop elsewhere.

Alex let out a large exhale.

Alex's dna hungrily took Fred's. The new dna fired up and the changes began.

Alex stood upright.

He felt his reproductive organs change. He craned his neck & head upwards. He was moaning. If felt like he needed to pee. But instead of pee or a child, the flesh inside liquefied and solidified into male reproductive organs, and at the same time began to push out.

It started as a massive of slightly off colored skin. At first it just hung there outside, then it perked up & began to constrict and form into the shape of a man's family rod. The birth of new neural paths connecting his reproductive organs to his brain were born.

The remaining mass turned into a liquid filed sack. He felt his new veins and nerves go in and intertwine. Two small hard masses formed inside the sack, and as they grew larger they took in those nerves and veins. He had a pair of balls now.

His body shape shifted. It took more ques from Fred. Alex could feel his body stretch. "ugh" He was taller. His chest got smaller, and his nipples sat more straighter, but they became more dense. He didn't loose mass per say, but his body was making better use of how it distributed the muscle fiber. His body did this all over. He took in more & more of Fred's twink traits.

"uhhh"

More squeezing. His arms met the same fate as his chest. Smaller, but so much denser.

Surprisingly, his legs grew instead. A pop could be heard. Alex grunted in response.

As his stomach contracted, his abs reshaped themselves. Fred's eight pack was now Alex. It was like 8 balls slowly floating to the top, breaking the surface at the same time.They were rounder & more uniform.

His neck stayed the same. His skin became smoother.

His began to morph. His eyebrows were from Fred. His eyes a combination of both with Alex's bags now gone. His lips & mouth a combination. His nose from Fred. His ears from Alex.

His hair shifted color to Fred's brown, but the hair style was from Alex only a bit more metro.

The excess testosterone did their work. Facial hair exploded from all over Alex's body. Arms, stomach, chest, and face were all now partially covered. Alex would need a shaving routine now.

Alex let out a deep exhale & opened his eyes. The merger was done.

He ran to the mirror and checked out his new features. He quickly looked at his new man rod and was elated. He got what he wanted. He could work on his muscle sizes, or absorb a buff dude if it bothered him so much.

Christian wrote everything he saw in his little journal. Shun was proud of the new person birthed before him & nodded in approval.

"Just a sec," Alex said. He ran to the bathroom. 10 minutes passed by. What was he doing? The sink turned on, and Alex washed & dried his hands.

"It works."

They both realized what Alex just did. Must be Fred inside him.

"Welcome to the fold," Christian said.

Alex agreed to become a part of their new society.

He was still a star basketball player, still partied, but now wore protection. He could get someone pregnant now. Fred in subconscious made him enjoy & appreciate his life more. He saw & felt through Fred what the other side felt.

Fertility tests were done. He was fertile. He could still have a family. And with the shifting of history, Alex was always born a man. He didn't have to worry about persecution. But he felt bad for those straddling the line. Part of the agreement in joining the group was to help those within the trans community fully transition via fusion if they wanted. Alex was now in charge of that task within The David & Goliath society. Shun would use his money to help those in need as well, no matter what stage of transition they were at or wanted to stay in.

With Fred's memory, he found his speedo from the earlier picture and put them on. Fred's influence opened him up to these skimpy beach wears.

[empty-vessel-of-a-person]

Delulu Mode: Jealous Zayne

Note: Not a Full Fic. Just a Delulu Story in my Brain. I wish I can write a full Story but I can't. Believe me I try.

To say you were hurt is an understatement. it was date night and you are very static that for once, Zayne was able to get off work early. But nothing prepared you to the colder than usual demeanor he has and an almost dismissive attitude.

You are very confused, when you pick him up from the hospital, he even kissed you in the forehead. Something the he's done for the first time.

His colleagues has seen you two stand so close to each other and the furthest they seen you two is greeting each other by holding hands. So the forehead kiss is something new to you but you are still equally happy.

So what happened in between the fifteen minute ride to the restaurant is still a mystery to you.

You are in the verge of crying when he refuse to talk much as you two eat.

Steeling your emotions, you keep everything in check because whatever is upsetting Zayne, he clearly do not want to share with you at the moment.

You two plan on walking on the nearby park after dinner. This is one of Zayne's way to getting you both a simple work out after eating your hearts out. But tonight, you feel awkward to do it so you ask Zayne take you home instead, which to no surprise, he didn't argue.

The ride was awkward and almost suffocating that you were not able to fight the silent tears that started to fall from your eyes. You did not move to wipe the tears as the moment may cause Zayne to notice so you just look out the window.

When you finally see your apartment, you thank Zayne for the dinner and ride home and quickly exited the car.

This seem to knock Zayne out from trans and he run after you. When he finally catch up and turn you to him, he was so shocked that your face is so red with tears. He immediately picks you up and take you back to his car.

You didn't fight him. Instead you held his shoulders tightly until he is able to secure you in car.

Driving fast but carefully , you notice that you are going to the direction of his house. When you are finally arrived, he excited the car without a word and unfasten your seatbelt an carry you again like earlier. When you try to protest, he just hold you tightly but gently and take you straight to his room.

He set you sitting at the edge of the bed and and him kneeling in front of you and his head on your knees as he whispers I'm sorry.

You didn't say anything for a while but you intertwined your hands with him while your other hand was gently stroking his hair. You then realize that his shoulders was shaking. he's crying.

That's when you coax him to talk and found out that he was jealous of the way you easily laugh with Greyson. he reason that with Greyson you always look like you are having fun. While you are just giving him smile and small giggle. he wants you to laugh heartily with him too but he is knows he is not jolly and funny like Greyson and for that he was extremely jealous.

He was so insecure that he kissed your forehead in front of his colleagues to ensure that they know you are his. And after that he proceeded to ignore you and for that he is so ashamed on how he acted.

You feel his arms encircle your legs he then murmurs. Please don't leave me.

It breaks your heart that he thinks that you will leave him for any other man so you hold his face in both your hands. When he finally look at you, you tell him that his presence alone make you happier that any laughing moments with her friends. Having fun and laugh with them does not comes close to how you feel when he showers you affection and you only and exclusively just long for him.

When you ask him to kiss you he was hesitant stating that he doesn't deserve to kiss you because how he acted. You acted angry and tell him that he is allowed to do whatever he wants with you. He was still hesitant that is why you hold the back of his neck and bring your lips down to his and he accept you dominating him.

When the kiss ended you whisper in his ears that you wanted more he then reply "Well then. My Love, what exactly do you allow me to do?"