#i think when i started realizing i was nb and butch i was so upset at first because how would people like me and think i was pretty

[erumai-maadu]

Sakura comes home after the second stage of the chunin exams with her hair short and her face set with grim determination to be stronger.

Her mother is distraught, eyes the choppy bob critically, before letting it go and telling her that it'll grow back quickly. She's young, after all, and her hair has always grown quickly.

But Sakura keeps trimming it, never letting it grow back out to the length that she was so proud of before. She feels freer without it, somehow. Her head is lighter, no longer pulled down by the weight of thick hair and people’s expectations.

It doesn't matter any more when people eye her bruised knuckles, the scars scattered on her body, the eyebags from long shifts at the hospital.

Short hair is more practical for a shinobi, after all. At least, that's what she tells her mother. They've never met the Hyuuga, so it doesn't matter if it isn't necessarily true.

Besides, Sakura isn't Neji, with his impenetrable defenses. She's a brawler with fists that punch through rock and shatter bones, and she cannot afford for someone to grab the hair that would whip around in the devastating blasts left in her wake.

Sometimes, she can still feel the Sound shinobi's hand in her hair, the burning pain in her scalp. Lee and Naruto unconscious on the ground and her weak, useless body trembling in fear.

Other nights, she feels the cold wind, a gentle pinch and a murmured "thank you" on the back of her neck. She sees Naruto's wide smile, a promise to bring him back to her, back to the village. Naruto and Sasuke with their backs to her, always in front, always walking away, leaving her behind.

Sakura trains with a savage ferocity that few can match. She needs to be better, always moving forward, so that some day, she can overtake Naruto and Sasuke.

There are times that she wakes up with a scream caught in her throat, hand reaching for a kunai pouch that isn't there. She gets up and sneaks out, runs to the mountains behind Hokage rock and pummels the rocks until her fists are bloody and her fears are assuaged. The weak little girl died in the Forest of Death, cut out of her along with the long pink locks she discarded.

The weight that was holding her back is gone. She will not be left behind. Never again.

[huesofthemorning]

Shopping Time (Butch/Femme JunnaNana)

Characters: Junna, Nana, Futaba, Claudine

Words: 5500

Summary: Junna and Nana have a heart to heart. Futaba and Claudine take them shopping. It’s an adventure.

Featuring Trans!Nana and NB!Junna

Picture of Junna’s and Nana’s outfits!

“Oh my,” Kaoruko said as Junna stepped into the classroom. “Isn’t that an impressive sight?”

Junna paused, eyes flicking between the door and the grinning Kaoruko. Did she dare ask, or did she escape while she still could? Unfortunately, she didn’t have a choice. It was dress rehearsal for their two week play of Romeo and Juliet, and as one of the leads, she absolutely couldn’t miss it.

“...Excuse me?” Junna finally asked, bracing herself for the answer.

“I’m talking about your outfit, of course,” Kaoruko said, waving a hand at Junna’s clothing choice. In a two week play, there wasn’t time for Class B to design and sew costumes; instead, each actress was told to wear whatever she owned that fit the role. For Junna, that meant dressing as Romeo.

It hadn’t been a surprise to anyone that Junna had scored a lead role, not in a Shakespeare play. What had been a shock was Hikari snatching the role of Juliet. Most of the class had expected Nana to play opposite Junna in a love story, including Nana herself. Junna had been the one to veto the idea.

“Kagura-san knows Shakespeare better,” Junna had argued, pointedly not looking at Nana. And it was true, to the dismay of the rest of the class. They had to remind Junna and Hikari every single practice session that no one else knew the lines in English, and to please follow the Japanese script. Nana stayed quiet the whole time, standing off to the side with her script dangling from her fingers. It didn’t take long to memorize the handful of lines of a background character.

Junna still had to apologize for that. She found Nana on the other side of the room, watching her with a surprised expression. Junna sent her a small smile before turning back to Kaoruko.

“What about my outfit?” she asked. It was a fairly simple affair, she thought. Dark blue button down shirt, a pair of old jeans, and the school’s standard, white and red gym shoes.

“Well first off, it’s hideous,” Kaoruko said.

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad,” Futaba chimed in, joining the pair. The rest of the group was starting to trickle over too, like moths to a flame. Maybe one day that fire would be stoked by something other than the potential for Junna’s embarrassment.

“It’s in character,” Junna argued. “Romeo was a rich teenage boy who liked running around the streets flirting with girls. He would have owned nice clothes, and he would have worn them to impress said girls, but even he wouldn’t have wanted to wear dress pants when walking outside all day, hence he would have--”

“Romeo’s dead,” Futaba said.

“W-well…” Junna stumbled to a halt. “That’s- that’s not relevant, and also not accurate, he was never technically alive in the first place--”

“More importantly,” Kaoruko interrupted, regaining control of the conversation. “I want to know how you did that!” Kaoruko exclaimed, pointing accusingly at Junna’s chest.

“...What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’? We’ve had numerous discussions about this, Junna-han! You have the biggest chest in the dorm, and you just walked in flat as a board. What gives!”

“...Oh.” Junna ran a hand down her chest. It wasn’t truly flat, not really, but the shirt was loose enough to mask the little shape there was.

“That is pretty impressive,” Claudine agreed. Maya and Hikari nodded. Nana was still hanging back, just a bit, but she seemed intrigued as well.

“I like it!” Karen announced, bouncing up and down. “You look like a boy! It’s cool!”

Junna rolled her eyes. “It’s just a binder. A compression shirt. It’s nothing special.”

“Why do you own a binder?” Mahiru asked.

“Why not?”

“Um…”

“‘Cause most 17 year old girls don’t own that stuff?” Claudine tried. “Did you buy this for the play?”

“No, of course not. I’ve owned this for years.”

“Junna-han, you’re the weirdest girl I’ve ever met.”

“Wait a sec,” Futaba said, lowering her voice so she wouldn’t be overheard by the rest of the class. “Is this a boy thing? Like, are you a weird girl, or are you, actually, you know.”

Junna stared blankly at Futaba. It took several seconds for her to realize what Futaba was trying to imply. “Oh. Oh, no. I don’t care.”

“What do you mean, you don’t care?”

Everyone was looking at her in varying states of confusion and concern. Junna sighed. Was it really such a hard concept to grasp?

“Boy or girl,” Junna stated firmly, “it doesn’t matter. I don’t see a difference. I’m Hoshimi Junna. I’m me. That’s all that’s important.”

“Oooooooh!” Karen clapped at the declaration. Mahiru and Hikari shook their heads.

“Fair enough,” Futaba shrugged.

“You’re still a weird person,” Kaoruko decided.

“No weirder than the rest of you,” Junna said. “Now come on, we should start rehearsal.”

She pushed past the group and made her way to the stage. It didn’t bother her, saying that stuff out loud. Junna had made up her mind long ago that if she decided something, she would follow that decision with confidence. She couldn’t move forward if she wavered.

Still, the support of her friends meant more than she would say. It warmed her; lifted a weight of her shoulders. Junna held on that feeling. Memorized it. Then, finally, she let herself acknowledge the thought tingling in the back of her mind:

Nana was frowning the whole time…

Nana was nervous. Nana was nervous about so many things, she didn't know where to begin. Half of them were surely nothing more than her overthinking, repeating tiny thoughts over and over until they snowballed into something too big to ignore. The other half... well, the other half was probably the same, if she was honest. Meaningless little moments that got stuck in her head. She needed to shake them out, needed this lump in her throat to melt, needed to stop being so--

"Nana?"

Nana jumped. Junna's questioning look started to turn into one of concern, and Nana felt her heart drop. She threw on a bright smile, hoping Junna wouldn't notice her trembling lips. "It's fine, it's fine! You startled me, is all. What's up?"

But of course, Junna noticed.

She took a moment to think, tapping her fingers against the desk.  Nana sat on the edge of her bed and waited, trying not to fidget. Junna liked to get her thoughts in order before she spoke, liked to arrange her words so they meant exactly what she wanted them to mean, nothing more, nothing less.

Sometimes, Nana tried to picture what the inside of Junna’s brain must be like. A library, for sure. Shelves and shelves of words, all carefully organized. She imagined Junna walking down the halls, stacks of books rising far above her head, carefully inspecting each and every one.

In contrast, Nana’s head felt like a complete and utter mess. Like a bunch of monkeys wreaking havoc on a grocery store in their search for bananas, and the janitor had quit long ago. Seventeen years of life and an extra fifty on top, and still she could never match Junna. And there the nervousness rose up again like a wave, threatening to drown her:

Was Junna getting bored of her?

Beautiful, intelligent, perfect Junna. Nana knew it was unfair, knew Junna would scold her if she could hear her thoughts, but sometimes Nana wondered if she was worthy to stand next to Junna on stage. After all, Junna hadn’t wanted Nana to play opposite her in Romeo and Juliet. And she had never once mentioned feeling like--

“I’m sorry.”

“Eh?” Nana stared up at Junna, uncomprehending.

Junna took a deep breath and continued. “I should have said this earlier, and I apologize for that too. But… you’re upset that I didn’t want you to play Juliet, right?”

“...Mm.” Nana wrapped her arms around herself, looking down at the floor. “But that’s alright. You love Shakespeare. It’s only natural that you’d want the best person to be your partner, and Hikari-chan is certainly that.”

“It has nothing to do with talent,” Junna said firmly. She sat down in Nana’s chair, reaching for Nana’s hands and holding them tightly in her own, waiting patiently for Nana to look back at her. “It’s nothing to do with talent,” she repeated again when Nana did, gentler this time. “Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy. More than that, it’s a tragedy masquerading as a love story. Perhaps it’s selfish of me, but I don’t want you playing a role in something like that. I don’t want you to play any more tragedies.”

Starlight was a tragedy. Starlight hurt. Nana hadn’t even thought about the pain intrinsic to Romeo and Juliet, the pain she’d have to act out over and over and over again, but Junna… Junna was always looking out for her. Always, always, always.

“Sorry,” Junna said, running her thumbs over Nana’s knuckles as a few tears slipped down Nana’s face. “I’ll explain myself better next time, promise.”

“Thank you,” Nana whispered. If she were better with words, she’d say all the many things she was thankful for, but for now she left it at that and trusted Junna to understand.

Junna smiled. “Good now?” she asked, squeezing Nana’s hands. “Or is there something else?”

Nana felt her chest tighten. There was something else, of course there was something else, but it was still too new. She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to risk ruining the balance Junna had created.

Balance. How could she maintain it? Junna had given it to her, so she must give it back.

“You first,” Nana said. “Is there anything you want to talk about first?”

“So,” Futaba said, hanging upside down off Claudine’s bed. “Junna, huh?”

Claudine snorted. “What a loser. That stage kiss with Hikari? Worst thing I’ve ever seen. The teacher should have let me demonstrate, I could absolutely do better!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re better than all of us at everything. But that’s not what I was talking about. What’d you think about Junna’s little speech?”

“That gender stuff? Seemed like pretty standard Hoshimi Junna to me. I don’t think she gives a shit about anything not stage related.” Claudine turned a page in her fashion magazine, frowning as she saw the cost of a pair of glittery heels. Not that she couldn’t afford them, of course, but what kind of statement would they make? She didn’t want someone like Tendo Maya to think she was trying too hard. “Or Banana related,” she added as afterthought. “The stage and Banana: her two passions.”

“Sounds about right. Hey, isn’t Banana trans too?”

“Probably. Not that I’ve ever asked her, of course.”

“Kaoruko keeps complaining that Banana never joins her in the bath.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. No one in their right mind would join Kaoruko in the bath.”

“Yeah…” Futaba sighed. She slid farther off the bed, hair brushing the floor. Claudine had talked her ear off about clothes earlier, and now, caught up in it, she was scrolling through pictures of high tops on her phone. “You know, I bet Junna’d look pretty good with more boyish clothes.”

“You’re just upset that your attempts at making Tendo Maya butch failed.”

“No, I’d say you’re the one upset about that.”

“Hah? Excusez moi?”

“You want to see Tendo wear a tux just as much as the rest of us, don’t deny it.”

Claudine stayed resolutely silent, flipping faster through her magazine. She didn’t need to see Futaba’s face to know she was smirking. “You realize,” she finally said, refusing to let Futaba win the conversation, “if you want Junna to be your backup butch, you’re going to have to dress her yourself. She has 0 sense of style.”

“Hey, I’ll do it. At least she won’t make me spend an hour in the lingerie section like Kaoruko does.” Futaba pulled herself onto the bed, thinking through the idea. “That could be good, actually, taking her shopping. Show that we’re supportive friends.”

“Are we though?”

“We’re supportive.”

“But are we friends?”

Futaba shrugged. “Probably?”

“Hm.” Claudine closed her magazine and looked up at Futaba. “If you’re making Junna butch, I want to make Banana femme. With those legs of hers, she could rock a miniskirt.”

“Hell yeah. Shopping trip it is then.”

“If we call this a double date, will Kaoruko hire a hitman to kill me?”

“Would you care if she did?”

“I dare her to.”

“Then sure, double date it is.”

“Is there something else?” Junna asked. It was rarely just one thing with Nana, Junna had learned. Nana had too many layers. Too many thoughts all piled up on top of each other. It took time for Junna to untangle them all.

After a moment, Nana replied: “You first. Is there anything you want to talk about first?”

That was a yes, then. A yes, Nana did have something, but she didn’t want to bring it up, and she was hoping Junna would get distracted and forget. If Junna was smart, she’d say no. She’d say that she was fine, and start coaxing the problem out of Nana. If she was smarter, she’d say yes. She’d say yes, she did have something, and they would talk it out and reach a mutual understanding. Surely it would be better for both of them. Surely it was the right decision. The smart decision.

Sometimes, Junna hated being smart.

“Actually…” she began, hesitantly, unused to opening up like this.

Nana seemed surprised too. “Actually?” she pressed, leaning forward.

Junna took a steadying breath. “I wanted to talk about what I said in class today. Or rather, I think I should, just to… to clear up any confusion. If you had any.”

Nana froze, and it clicked for Junna, then, that this was likely the second thing Nana wanted to talk about. She should have guessed it earlier. In that case, talking about it was for the best, she told herself. Two birds with one stone.

“I’m not… confused about it,” Nana said slowly. “If that’s the way you feel, then that’s the way you feel! And I’ll support you! But...”

“But?” Junna asked, holding her relief at bay until she heard the rest of the story.

“But…” Nana chewed her lip, staring off into the distance. Finally she gave a sheepish smile and said, “you never told me about it.”

Ah.

Now Junna understood.

What a fool she was.

“Not- not that you had to, of course!” Nana was quick to add. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to! I just would have thought, since I’m…”

“That’s why, actually,” Junna said, finally relaxing. Nana wasn’t upset with her. Not that Junna would have expected her to be, but it was always better to hear it said. Now all she had to do was explain her thoughts. That wasn’t a problem. “For you, the distinction between being a girl or a boy is important, right? If someone called you a boy, you’d be upset. And rightfully so! But for me, it’s meaningless. I could go my whole life being a called a boy, and I doubt I’d care. So while we’re similar in some ways, in other ways we’re completely different. I didn’t want you to think that because I felt my way, you had to feel that way too. That’s why I didn’t say anything.”

“Oh.” Nana frowned, thinking it over.

“Make sense?” Junna asked. It was completely logical, in her opinion. Whether or not she was supposed to be this logical over a decision with emotional impact was a question she wasn’t going to answer.

“Yep!” Nana said, bright and shining once again. “Junna-chan is always looking out for me, huh?”

“Of course!” Junna was grinning now too, unable to help herself when faced with the sun that was Nana. “I’m the class president, after all!”

“You’re the president of my heart,” Nana said with a terrible attempt at a serious expression.

Junna snorted, reaching forward to poke Nana in the stomach. “I think that’s the worst pickup line yet.”

“Aw, Junna-chan! Well, what if I just pick you up then?”

Nana’s hands were on her waist before she could react, pulling her into the bed. Junna was laughing; Nana was, too, both of them giddy with the relief that comes after important discussions. Everything was fine now, Junna thought as Nana pulled her into a kiss. There was nothing more to worry about.

“Rise and shine, losers, we’re going shopping!” Claudine shouted as she threw the door open. “Come on, up! Up!”

“Believe me, Saijo-san, I would if I could,” Junna said, her voice muffled by Nana’s arm thrown over her face. It was Sunday morning, and instead of her usual Sunday morning breakfast routine, Nana had opted for crawling into bed with Junna and cuddling close. An hour later and she had managed to roll herself sideways across the bed, half on top of Junna and her legs halfway to the floor. Claudine bit back her laughter at the sight.

“Should I take a picture, or?”

“You can do whatever you want if you get her off me.”

“Ah, young love.” Claudine snapped a photo of Junna’s annoyed glare, then went to free her from her banana scented prison. She grabbed hold of Nana’s shoulders, rolling her off Junna and wincing as Nana rolled right onto the floor. “Oops. She’s a heavy sleeper, huh?”

“In all senses of the word.” Junna sighed in relief and sat up, rubbing her stiff neck. “What did you say about shopping?”

“Oh, right! Futaba and I are taking you two clothes shopping.”

“...Why?”

“Because we want to.”

“That’s not a very convincing argument.”

“Hey, without me you’d still be trapped in bed. You owe me now.”

“Fair enough.” Junna frowned at Nana, poking her with her foot. “Nana. Are you seriously still asleep?”

“Maybe,” came the mumbled reply. Nana blearily opened her eyes, smiling as the first thing she saw was Junna’s face. “Good morning, Junna-chan!”

“You almost smothered me again, you know.”

“That’s because Junna-chan is really comfy!”

Junna let out a heavy sigh. “We’ll be down soon, Saijo-san.”

Looking at Nana’s sleepy face, Claudine wasn’t quite sure she believed them. Well, if anyone was trustworthy in this dorm, it was Junna. “Don’t take too long, we have a lot of shopping to do! Oh, and make sure you bring your binder.”

Junna looked at her in surprise. “What? Why?”

“Are we-” Nana yawned, blinking a few a times to wake herself up. “Are we doing a play?”

“No, Futaba wants to dress Junna like a boy.”

“Oooh, good idea! Boyish Junna-chan is cute!”

“This is because of what I said a couple days ago, isn’t it?” Junna asked, already knowing the answer.

“Could be,” Claudine answered, shrugging. “Or it’s Futaba being lonely ‘cause she has no other butch in the dorm. I still haven’t figured out which it is.”

“Hm. Well, I don’t mind wearing it, so that’s fine.”

“Fantastique!”

Nana hummed the whole way to the store, holding Junna’s hand and swinging it back and forth as they walked.

“You seem happy,” Junna commented. “Do you really enjoy clothes shopping this much?”

“Mmmm, maybe? I think it will be fun! It’s like a date!”

“A date…”

“We’re splitting you two up, you know,” Futaba said. “You won’t see each other until we’re done.”

“Ehh? I wanted to see Junna-chan try on clothes…” Nana pouted, shoulders drooping.

“Careful, Banana,” Claudine said. “Keep this up and you’ll reach Kaoruko levels of clinginess.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m clingy?”

Claudine snorted; Junna covered her mouth, trying desperately not to laugh. Futaba didn’t even make the attempt. “Boy, Banana, have I got some news for you!”

“Eh?” Nana looked around blankly, not understanding. Junna patted her arm.

“We’ll talk later.”

“Okay?”

“Don’t worry, Banana,” Claudine said, hooking an arm through Nana’s and pulling her away from Junna. “I’ll take good care of you. Now come on!”

Claudine led the way into the clothing store and headed straight for the dresses, towing Nana along.

“I’m a little worried,” Junna said, following Futaba to the opposite side.

“Come on, clothes shopping isn’t that bad.”

“No, not that. Nana. She gets a little… strange sometimes. When she’s on her own.”

“Eh, I’m sure it’s fine. Kuroko’s with her.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Junna stopped at a rack of polos, fingering the material. “So. What are we looking for, exactly?”

“I dunno. Something cool looking.”

“You don’t know? Wasn’t this your idea in the first place?”

Futaba shrugged. “Hey, I only said it would be a good idea. I never promised good execution.”

“I expected better of you.”

“That’s your problem, Junna. You expect too much of us. You forget we’re all idiots.”

“I wish I could forget.” Junna rifled through a rack of shirts, frowning at the options. With no idea of what she was looking for, she pulled out the first thing that seemed close to her size. “Something like this?”

“Nah. Too feminine.”

“We’re in the men’s section.”

“So?”

“...Okay,” Junna finally said, giving up on making sense of this whole adventure. She put the shirt back, drumming her fingers on the rack as she looked around. “Oh! I know!”

Futaba followed her across the store. After a moment it was clear what Junna was heading for; Futaba couldn’t believe she hadn’t predicted it. With how much of a nerd Junna was, she should have been preparing for it the whole way there.

Junna turned to her with a grin, holding up her find. “How about--”

“Absolutely not.”

“But it’s boyish--”

“It’s ugly.”

“I disagree--”

“Junna, if you want to wear a sweater vest, you’re going to have to beat me in a fist fight.”

Junna lowered the argyle monstrosity and sized Futaba up. “I bet I could take you.”

“Yeah? You wanna go?” Futaba took a step towards Junna, fist raised. Junna conceded immediately.

“On second thought, maybe not.”

“Kuro-chan, Kuro-chan!” Nana bounced over to Claudine, a bundle of clothes in her arms.

Claudine looked up from the rack of dresses she'd been inspecting, eager to see what Nana had come back with. "Oh, nice! What'd you find?"

"A bunch of stuff! Let's see..." Nana held up the first shirt. It was white, a big green frog pasted right in the middle. Claudine frowned. "Isn't it cute? And then there's this one," Nana continued, holding up a pair of dark green pants. A few small frogs decorated the pockets. "I think they'd look good together!"

"Banana, I said we were getting you a dress," Claudine said. "Also, this is the 7th frog item so far. Where are you finding these?"

"What do you mean? They're really easy to spot! But don't worry, I found a dress too!" Nana showed off her last find, a yellow dress with ruffled sleeves and a frog shaped pocket. It was cute, Claudine admitted, except for one major problem:

"Banana, that's a dress for a literal five year old."

"Yep! I found it in the kid's section!"

"Why were you in the kid's section? We're shopping for you!"

Nana pouted, holding the dress tight to her chest. "But the kid's section has the most frog stuff."

"And you can buy all the froggy kid stuff you want in ten years when you and Junna have a million children. But right now, we're trying to make you look hot. So put that back!"

Nana reluctantly agreed, returning the clothing to their original spots. She made a mental note to come back later.

"Much better," Claudine said when Nana returned. "Now try this on." She shoved a polka dot blue dress at Nana and pushed her towards the dressing room.

"I don't know," Nana said, "it doesn't have any frogs on it."

"Does everything you own have to have frogs?"

Nana considered the question for a moment. "No," she finally decided. "It could have bananas instead."

"Absolutely not! Too much yellow will clash with your hair. Trust me, I know from experience."

"If you say so... Why are we trying to make me hot again?"

"Because the fact that you don't dress to your potential is a crime against humanity. Now shush! Go try on that dress! And while you do, I'm going to find you some lingerie."

"Oh!" Nana said as Claudine closed the door on her. "See if they have any frogs--"

"No."

"Here, try this," Futaba said, handing Junna a pair of sweatpants. Junna sighed as she took them, heading back into the changing room for what had to be the 10th time.

"Have you figured out your criteria for good pants yet?"

"Yeah. Whatever looks the most butch."

"That's not very helpful." Junna emerged a moment later, looking hopefully at Futaba. "Good?" They felt nice, at the very least. Junna had never been one for sweatpants, but she'd wear them for the rest of her life if it meant they could move on.

"Nah," Futaba said, shaking her head and crushing Junna's hopes. "The color's all wrong."

"They're black."

"There's lots of different blacks."

"You know," Junna said, ignoring that statement and taking the next pair of black pants Futaba handed her, "if your goal is to make me butch, won't that ruin your Sailor Moon theory?"

Futaba grinned. "God, I love our Sailor Moon theory."

The two of them had spent hours hashing it out a few weeks back: between the nine of them and the nine senshi in Sailor Moon, who would match who? It was the most important conversation of their life. And a surprisingly easy one, too, aside from the infamous Uranus/Neptune dispute.

"So do I," Junna said from the changing room. "But my point still stands: your sole reasoning for you being Uranus was that you were the butchest of the group. Yet here you are, trying to make me more butch."

"What, are you saying you're gonna take my title? No offense, Junna, but I think I'm safe."

"Probably," Junna agreed, showing off the next pair of pants. Another no from Futaba. Junna sighed. "I still say butchness isn't the right metric though. Tendo-san fits the role better."

"And like I said: she doesn't have a motorcycle."

"She has everything else though! The talent, the distantness, the mild disdain for people lesser than her--"

"Doesn't matter. Not unless she starts calling Karen 'kitten'."

"You don't call her that either."

"I could start."

"I think she's more of a dog."

"Don't be a smartass, Mercury. Hey- those ones look pretty good."

"Do you think so?" Junna spun around, showing off the pants from every angle. They felt the same as all the others, but if Futaba was happy, she'd take it.

"Sure. Why not."

"What do you mean, why not? We've been at this for forever, and that's the best response you have?"

"I mean, they're just the same as all the others."

Junna stared at her in shock. "Wait, wait! If they were all the same, why did you make me try on fifteen of them!?"

"I wanted to see how long you'd keep going," Futaba said, grinning at Junna's frustrated groan.

"I hate you."

“Mercury doesn’t know how to hate.”

“Don’t worry, she’s a quick learner.”

"You're a disaster," Claudine said, watching in awe as Nana stumbled around.

"Well, I've never really worn heels before-- woah!" Nana wobbled her way into the nearest shoe rack, grabbing it for balance and nearly knocking it over in the process.

"Unbelievable. I’m talking to our teacher; we need to add this to our curriculum.” Claudine took hold of Nana’s arm, pulling her over to the chair. Nana sighed gratefully.

“Is walking in heels really that important?”

“Bien sûr! Of course! How are you going to be femme if you can’t walk in heels?”

“I don’t really care if I’m femme though… You and Kaoruko-chan do a much better job at that than me!”

“Hah! Kaoruko! You’re not a true femme until you’ve walked down the streets of Paris in five inch heels!”

“Okay?”

“All I’m saying is that I’m a better femme than Kaoruko.”

Nana hummed absentmindedly, looking around at the mass of shoes Claudine had collected. “Do any of these have shorter heels? I don’t think I could match your five inches! But I could maybe do two?”

“Two inches barely counts as a heel. But I guess it’ll do. You’re tall enough anyways.” Claudine rummaged through the pile, pulling out a pair of pink shoes. “Here, this will match the dress we found.”

“Oh, cute!” Nana slipped the shoes on and stood, smiling as she found her balance.

Claudine nodded in approval. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you say something was cute that wasn’t Junna or frog related.”

“I think lots of things are cute! Junna-chan and frogs are just really really cute.”

“Yeah? What else is cute?”

“Hmm.” Nana tapped her chin, grinning slyly. “The way you were saying Maya-chan’s name in your sleep the other day, after you fell asleep on the couch?”

Claudine turned red. “Th-that! That definitely didn’t happen! You’re making that up!”

“Correct!”

“Huh?”

“What I really think is cute is Kuro-chan’s embarrassed face!”

Claudine stared up at Nana, mouth hanging open. “You…! You’re the worst of the group sometimes, you know that?”

Nana simply laughed, twirling around in her heels. She did the move so neatly that Claudine was forced to wonder if all her earlier wobbling had been an act. It had happened before: Nana liked to stay in the middle of the pack during their dance lessons, but on the rare occasions Claudine caught her practicing on her own, she flew through the steps better than Maya could. Looking at Nana’s bright grin, Claudine had the feeling she’d been tricked again.

“How do you manage to be just as frustrating as her?”

“Hm?”

Claudine sighed. “Never mind. Let’s go meet up with Futaba and Junna. It’s time to show you off!”

“Oh, good,” Junna said as Claudine and Nana walked up, “you’re both alive.”

“Junna-chan!” Nana bounded over, giving Junna a hug. Junna rolled her eyes and patted her on the back.

“Did you think we’d kill each other or something?” Claudine asked.

“I figured either she’d kill you with all the frog stuff she found, or you’d kill her to stop all frogs.”

“It came pretty close.”

“Junna and I almost got in a fight,” Futaba said. Nana looked over in surprise.

“We did not,” Junna protested.

“You challenged me!”

“That- It was a statement, that’s all!”

“It better have been,” Claudine said, “cause there’s no way you’d survive a fight with Futaba. Or anyone, for that matter.”

Junna pouted, crossing her arms. “I’d do okay against Kagura.”

“With her knife?”

“Don’t worry Junna-chan, I can protect you!”

“...Let’s go try on those clothes.”

Nana emerged from the dressing room first. She was wearing a knee length pink dress with matching pink heels. Frilly white socks and white belt completed the outfit. Nana gave a little twirl, the dress spinning around her. Futaba and Claudine clapped.

“We went with a sleeveless dress to show off her arms,” Claudine explained.

“Good choice.” Futaba high fived her.

“You look nice,” Junna said, stepping out of her dressing room and smiling up at Nana. “You should wear dresses more often. They suit you.”

Nana beamed. “Junna-chan looks super good too!” She patted her dress, frowning when she remembered its lack of pockets. “Ah- I don’t have my phone...”

“That’s fine. Our camera crew over there has it covered.” Junna nodded her head at Futaba and Claudine, who were indeed busy taking a multitude of photos.

“Come on, Jun!” Claudine called. “Strike a pose!”

Junna sighed and turned properly towards her, sticking her hands in her pockets. She was wearing the black sweatpants Futaba had tormented her with, a blue varsity jacket with white sleeves, and blue and white vans. Futaba came over and stuck a black and red snapback on her head.

“There. Look complete! Feeling butch now?”

“Sure?”

“That’s the spirit!”

Nana draped her arms over Junna’s shoulders and rested her chin on Junna’s head. “This was fun!”

“...It was,” Junna reluctantly agreed. “Thank you. Both of you.”

“Consider it a thank you for absorbing Banana’s frog obsession so the rest of you don’t have to deal with it,” Claudine said.

“Don’t worry, Kuro-chan! One day you’ll find your own frog princess, and then you’ll understand.”

“Banana, that’s terrifying.”

“Does that mean Junna’s your frog princess?” Futaba asked.

“Yes!”

“Make up your minds,” Junna said, frowning. “Am I supposed to be a princess or butch?”

Futaba crossed her arms, thinking. “You know, I don’t think you’re either. I think you’re eternally just a nerd.”

“Can I wear my sweater vest then?”

“No.”

[queercapwriting]

Hi mum! Here's the prompt: Eliza deliberately misgenders nb!Alex and stuff, and Maggie comes to Alex's defense and completely loses it.

Maggie has held her tongue through a lot. She’s only had gentle, measured responses to Eliza – and a firm, supportive hand on Alex’s thigh – through the worst of it so far.

Oh honestly, Alexandra, putting Kara in the position where she had to blow out her powers again just to save you from your own reckless decision?

Respectfully, Dr. Danvers, if Alex hadn’t been so incredibly brave, we would have had no way to stop that ship at all, and hundreds of innocent people would have been stranded all the way on the other side of the galaxy and most likely left to suffer and die.

Alexandra, I know you’re still upset about your father, but really, that’s no reason to drink yourself into another stupor.

Actually, Dr. Danvers, it’s root beer, so the only stupor anyone will be in is from sugar overload.

She always does it with a gentle tone, and she does it with a modicum of respect in her voice, because Eliza likes her – really likes her – and she knows it’s better for everyone, better for Alex, if it stays like that.

But that doesn’t mean she’s going to just watch Alex get gaslighted, get beaten down, get loved so painfully by a woman who doesn’t know how to love properly, doesn’t know how to say Alex I love you to the ends of the earth and you terrify me because I’m always so worried about you.

And since then?

Since then, Maggie has held Alex’s hand while they managed to stumble through yet another coming out to Eliza – another I feel more like me than I ever have, and that reason is – what, no Barry Allen mystery portal this time? Great, I was kind of counting on – Mom, I’ve never felt more like myself than I do now, because I realized that I didn’t grow up knowing any labels that fit me right, but now I – I’m nonbinary, Mom, I’m – I’m me, same as ever, but they and them instead of she and her, because it just… it makes so much sense, you know? – and Alex had nearly broken her fingers with the force of their grip as Eliza had blinked, had blinked again, had stood, had swallowed, had looked directly at Alex and after long, long minutes of Alex quietly begging her to say something, said, So you’re not quite a boy but you’re not quite the beautiful young woman I raised, and I assume your very lesbian girlfriend is for some reason okay with this because she’s holding your hand, and your sister is giving you that unconditionally supportive look because her heart is purer than mine will ever be, so I assume I’m alone when I say I’m a little bewildered and am going to have to get used to losing my daughter.

Kara’s arms are around Alex before the first sob can choke out of their lips, and Maggie holds them from behind and Alex splutters and Alex breaks as Eliza retreats to Kara’s bedroom.

Kara – once her own temper with Eliza has calmed somewhat – runs interference between her sibling and her foster mother, enough of it to get them back in the same room, enough of it to get Eliza’s arms around a crying Alex while Maggie watches with rage on her face. Kara slips her fingers into Maggie’s.

“They’re going to be okay. They have us. They have you,” Kara whispers, and Maggie kisses her on the cheek.

“I love you, Little Danvers.”

Kara smiles with sad eyes as they both watch Alex sniffle in Eliza’s arms.

And now?

Now it’s been a month, and there have been good phone conversations – Alex, you’re my da – my child, and I will always love you, and I will always be proud of you, however you are – and there have been explosive phone conversations – I’m sorry, Alexan – Alex – it’s a mother’s instinct, I’ve known you one way for twenty-eight years and you’re expecting me to catch up with all these sudden changes overnight! – and now, there’s another family dinner.

Alex throws up with nerves beforehand, Maggie and Kara taking turns between rubbing Alex’s back and holding their hand and making sure the apartment is in order for Eliza’s arrival.

“How’re they doing?” Maggie calls into the bathroom as she sets the table, deliberately addressing Kara so Alex can hear their pronouns, so Alex can hear their validation, and sure enough, Alex’s stomach settles somewhat.

Kara smiles and kisses the back of Alex’s neck and calls back out, “They’re doing just great, they could infiltrate Cadmus single-handedly all over again!”

Alex laughs wearily and leans back into their sister gratefully.

It’s the last laugh they get that evening.

Because Eliza blinks a little too much before complimenting – stiffly – Alex’s new haircut; stares a little too hard when Maggie switches easily between calling Alex babe, honey, Alex, and Al; completely blanches when Kara calls Alex both Al and Alex and refers to the Danvers siblings; and clenches her jaw when Kara passes behind Alex to get the cookies from the oven and rubs the back of their head, with its newly buzzed style, and laughs about how scared she is that Lena – who’s unfortunately out of the country right now – might just leave her for Alex, if the way she loves touching Alex’s new cut is any indication.

“So you’re saying your sister’s doing this to be more, what, butch, is that the word? That she just wants to be more attractive to women? I thought she – I thought you already have Maggie, dear, and everyone’s completely fine with you being a lesbian, no one would care if you cut your hair this way and wore those shirts and were just a woman, so I don’t understand why you feel the need to make things more complicated by – “

Maggie is up before Alex can start crying and she’s up before Kara can say more than Eliza, you need to –

“You know what, I’ve been respectful and I’ve held my tongue and I��ve – no. No more. Dr. Danvers, you’re having trouble processing your kid’s identity? Fine. Whatever. Talk to people, talk to Kara, talk to me. Hell, talk to Alex if you want to, but don’t you dare misgender them just because you can, just because that’s what makes you feel more comfortable, more righteous. Not in this place, this place where Alex feels at home with their sister. And you know what else, did you ever stop to think that Alex lives in the same damn world as you do? That they have been forced to swallow the same heteronormative bullshit about you’re either a man or a woman, this way or that way, nothing else, no complexity, no wiggle room, and if you feel outside of that, you’re a freak, you’re just trying to get attention, you’re just trying to make your life harder, you’re being selfish, you’re being ridiculous? Did you ever stop to think that Al has been forced to swallow those same toxic lies, so maybe they have the same questions, the same insecurities and fears and terrors and self-doubts, that you’re interrogating them about? That you’re hitting every one of their fears, every one of their triggers, and to what? You think they haven’t already been over and over all of this with themselves, with me, with Kara and James and J’onn and Winn and Vasquez and Lena, nights of agonizing and crying, not because the nonbinary part is the hard part, but because toxic expectations like the ones you’re laying out are the only thing that surrounds them? It’s not about being difficult, and it’s not about making anything harder, it’s about discovering that there is something that fits you better, that helps you breathe better, than the little boxes we’ve all been hacked and wrangled into. It’s not Al’s fault that they grew up without the proper language to fit themselves, with all the shame that you’re shoving onto them with this interrogation. Because you know, don’t you, Dr. Danvers, that there’s a difference between questions and interrogations. This is your child. Love them. That’s it. Just love them. And if you can’t do that properly right now, I’m sorry Kara, I know this isn’t my house, but you need to leave. Now.”

There’s a long silence, and Maggie’s chest heaves slightly as she glowers, trembling, at Eliza; Kara beams sadly at the woman she hopes her sibling marries; Alex stares up at Maggie in disbelief, in relief, in shock, in gratitude; and Eliza stares between the three of them in a very different kind of shock.

“Alexan – Alex, you’re going to let your girlfriend speak to your mother that way?”

It’s Kara who answers. “Eliza, please. Not now. Maggie said what Maggie said, and I… I agree with her. And so does Alex. Please. We’ll try this again another time, okay?”

The pit in Maggie’s stomach – the pit in all of their stomachs – doesn’t even begin to fade until hours later, when they’re sharing two tubs of vegan ice cream, Alex cuddled between their favorite girls under layers of throw blankets, and Maggie’s phone buzzes.

Maggie dear. I’ve thought a great deal about what you said, and I wanted to thank you for saying it. You clearly love my child very much, and I am very grateful that they found you. I don’t imagine they want to speak with me right now, and I understand that. But when they’re ready, perhaps you can show them this message? Thank you for fighting for Alex when I don’t know how to. They’ve always fought for everyone else; I’m so glad they’ve finally found someone to fight for them.

“What’s that, babe?” Alex asks. Maggie stares at their red-rimmed, still swollen eyes and kisses their nose.

“Show you later. For now, more cuddles.”

“Cudddlessssssss,” Kara throws her arms over both of them, and as their girlfriend leans over them to tickle their little sister, Alex can’t help but smile; can’t help but laugh; can’t help but feel safe, and loved, and wanted, and defended. Can’t help but feel perfect.

Because they are, they are, they are.

[ibroughtthisonmyselfpixels]

☺ for sprite? have you done sprite? if you have then ☺ for alice (or both of them if youre up to it)

No, I have not done Sprite! Sprite first.

Sprite likes ice cream much more than Jake! Jake has absolutely zero sweet tooth, and will often chastise them for having ice cream in the house. It always calls Jake a buzzkill in retaliation.

Prior to meeting Jake, she was homeless. Having already walked out of their biological family, it stayed at a pseudo-friend’s house for a while before being kicked out for pocketing the silverware to pawn. Sprite claimed to have done it on the ground that hey, she lived there, it was theirs too. No one bought that.

In a way, it’s grateful to Jake for that, for giving it a place to kick up and knit a life back together for herself. But not too grateful. Not after Jake keeps cutting into that life to make it Jake’s own.

Sprite has a higher chance of making a relationship with Relicta without being in love; but Jake has a higher chance of actually falling in love with Dean without making a relationship. Make of that what you will.

Sprite doesn’t have a concrete label for its sexuality - except that they instinctively seem to hate all but one of the people Jake has ever ‘expressed’ an attraction to in his own Jake fashion (Jake being bisexual for males and NB people). The one person they shared an attraction to, Sprite ended up dating for about six months. It’s one of the few ‘victories’ she’s ever had. 

She would probably be pissed that even in the ten facts file dedicated to Sprite, Jake is somehow sneaking his way in. But the fact is, it is impossible (right now) to discuss Sprite in an OOC manner like this without also discussing Jake.

Neither of them have ever actually killed a person. Though, oh, how has Sprite wanted to.

If Sprite dies before Jake does, she will be at first dismissive of Valhalla, then fascinated by it, in that it provides more freedom from their own brain and from its own enemies than so far it’s ever had in life - after all, no one downstairs has heard of either of them, so there’s no reputation to precede her. Once Jake dies too, though, she’ll be like “son of a bitch”.

If Jake dies before Sprite does, though, and they get word… they’ll be a little more shaken than it would want to be in that situation.

Sprite actually thinks her drink-namesake is disgusting.

Now Alice!

Alice, in my original story of her and Gertitude, had no real personality outside of ‘generic cool girl’ and ‘Ms Perfect’ and ‘daredevil’. Daredevil ought to have been one of nis traits, by all rights, and would have been if I were playing nym straight this time around. But I liked the Coward re-interpretation better. 

For some reason - I don’t have a copy of the original story on me, so this is vague - I remember her/nym being interested in gymnastics a lot. So I’ll carry that over here: ne is very flexible as a result of that childhood interest, back when ne was a bit braver. 

Gertitude was not only Alice’s first in the sense that she was the first person ne helped: she was also the first person who helped Alice realize that ne liked girls, long before ne even knew what ‘gay’ was. 

(To any skeptics: yes, I know I said they met in primary school before. That doesn’t negate fact #3. People can realize after the fact that they’ve always liked a certain gender, or always known they did, from even a very young age.)

Despite being genderqueer, Alice still refers to nymself as gay in reference to the fact that ne likes girls. 

For some reason, every animal or ‘familiar’ that Alice has managed to bring about for those who’ve needed them has had a clover-shaped patch of contrasting-colour fur somewhere on its body. Ne wonders if there’s a pattern to it.

No, Alice summoning animals is not a ‘specialty’ magic like the forgetting aura, I’m not making nym that overpowered. It’s another one of those spell accessible to all witches and wizards, and actually cross-canon: Summon Spectral Animal, originally from Sims 2. My new incantation for it isn’t ‘Appello Cattus Amicus’, however; it’s filikó z��on, plus the Greek name for the specific animal - filikó gáta zóon for summoning cats, for instance, or, nis preferred incantation, filikó skylí zóon for dogs. *makes mental note to add it to my list of Spells and add a weakness*

Okay, I love nis pronoun set, but every time I see nym spelled ‘nym’, I think of Nym from Negatoys. I can’t help it. 

I have in my notes that Alice is “implied to be an abuse victim”. Then I think about all of the characters I have that have been implied to be victims of some kind of abuse - from Stellan to Sandy to Butch - and I get sad. Then I wonder where they get it from, and I start freaking out, and that makes my girlfriend and friends upset.

The surname Inbeelding is Dutch for ‘imagination’, but also for ‘swelled head’.