#it’s not because she’s supportive of trans people. she’s mentioned her support of the cass review twice since we got here

[tesco-finest-aromantics]

where’s that tweet/tumblr post talking about how it’s easier to pass as a trans person at a conservative rally than at a queer support group. because i’m meeting all of my nan’s elderly friends and they’ve all assumed i’m her grandson (correctly, but i’m not out) and my younger cis brother’s twin brother. i’m getting called young man, young lad, boy etc. and i didn’t even think i passed that well, especially because i’m not wearing anything more to cover my chest than a binder and a t-shirt and i assumed my chest was very visible. but they must just see short hair and go ‘boy’. which is very nice to hear actually

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Coming out to the batfam as asexual

A/n: So asexuals are all different, even then I tried to make it as universal as possible but if you're sex favorable (I'm not so that's probably partially why I wrote it like that) this one (unfortunately) might not be for you!

Warnings: Being scared to come out, mentions of aphobia and killing people, I think that's it? You have been warned!

The reader is gender neutral!

Requested by: @bandshirts-andbooks

Ironically for being the world's best detectives no one really caught on

I think the only person who might of is Cass, but it's nothing for sure, she just saw your body language would change slightly when people talked about sex

The first person you tell is Alfred

You were probably having a bad day, maybe seeing some straight people talk about ace people in a really negative way, and perhaps some queer people online who told you, that ace people didn't belong in the community

And people just being shitheads in general towards the queer community and just all these laws being made against trans people everywhere can really wear someone down, right?

So it's the middle of the night and you're in the kitchen crying because it's just been a bad day

And Alfred comes in, "Mx. L/n are you alright?"

After you were adopted you never got Bruce's last name

"Ah, yes! Don't worry it's nothing!"

🥹

All it takes is one raised eyebrow from him and you're quickly defeated, and he pulls out a chair and sits next to you

"Don't let things fester for too long Mx. L/n, you know what happens to your brothers when they do."

Sighing you wring your hands through your hair (something you picked up from your father) "I just-"

"Alfred I think I'm asexual."

"There's a silence and half your brain is thinking maybe Alfred doesn't know what it is and the other half think he hates you now

"Mx. L/n you do not "think so" I'm pretty sure you know."

And that in itself is confirmation that he supports you, the way he's smiling makes you wonder how you could think anything else

Okay next you come out to Cass

Because Alfred slyly told you she might already know

She's supportive and tells you in her own way that she would hurt anyone who isn't

I also think she understands you the most because I headcanon (is it canon???) that Cass is asexual

So she's who you go for to vent, and eventually she'll come out to you as ace too!

Then there's Stephanie and Barbra

Steph squeals; "Another member of the alphabet mafia!" And Barbra recomends a bunch of asexual groups online where they share their personal experiences

While all this fluffiness is happening the batboys tm are trying to get back at you for winning the prank war last week

Naturally they go into your dating history, because why not?

Murder might be committed by Cass after this

There aren't very many people but there's ONE person from your high school days

And thanks to Tim's savvy tech skills they somehow find out you're a virgin

(don't ask)

At this point Damian didn't really know the plan, but he's mostly the distraction anyways!

In the past you had told them you weren't one

High school was not good for your baby ace ass alright?

Meaning they thought it was fair game because they were getting back at you for lying and winning the prank war

Imagine your surprise when at a rare dinner Jason, Tim, and Dick are glancing at each other mischievously

Bruce looks like he has no idea what's going on and Damian (for once) looks oddly innocent

"You know how we use to say Jason gets no bitches" Dick starts up

"Hey!"

"Well little Timmy here." Dick continues ignoring an angry Jay. "Found out you're worse than Jaybird and are a Virgin."

You just stare dumbfounded at their giggling faces

"I didn't know that this was part of the plan." Damian mutters

At this point you were much more confident in yourself and had momentairly forgetten that Bruce was still in the room

Just imagine seeing those faces

when you finally tell them

"I'm asexual fuckwads."

Their faces go BEAT RED

"Oh, um..."

"Also Tim, idk how you found out I was still a virgin, but if you do anything like that again..."

The look on Tim's face - it was very clear that your threat got through to him

Then you remembered Bruce was still in the room

Slowly you turned your head to face him

Instead of saying anything he just gave you a smile

That's how you came out to the Batfam, from being scared, to be a confident badass

-thedelusionreaderbitch

dc taglist: no one yet!

[soleminisanction]

Just saw an impossibly bad take, so to balance that out: in the past you mentioned a story where Tim comes out as a trans woman, what would that look like for you? Do you have any thoughts on making that into a fic?

I've had a lot of scattered thoughts about it but never been able to pin down any scenes concrete enough to turn them into an actual fic. But I love trans!Tim stories whether he's trans fem or trans masc so I've tossed the idea around here and there. Gonna be a little fluid with the pronouns here as Tim's thought process evolves but the basic idea here was:

The seed of the idea would get planted in Tim's mind just before War Games, specifically the one and only time he sees a picture of Steph as Robin. Along with the hurt and anger he expected, there's emotions he doesn't understand, a feeling of longing, jealousy, and desire; not for Steph herself, but for the way she looks in her new costume. For months he's been asking himself, "What do I want, for me?" and now the answer is staring him in the face: This.

But he keeps pushing it aside because there's always something "more important" going on. Worse, as things start to fall apart around him and he loses first Steph, then his dad, and then Kon, the musings about his gender keep getting mixed up in his feelings for other people, especially Kon.

Basically, take all the angst and pain of that era and make it even worse with disphoria and Tim being deep in both denial and the closet and feeling completely unable to open up to anyone about it because of how much it scares him to want something, something she feels like she can't have. Things like him not knowing if he's attracted to Cassie or if he wants to be Cassie, wishes his body looked and moved like that while still having so much strength and power. Fantasizing about how things might've been different between him and Kon, or him and Dick, or him and Damian, if only he'd been born a girl. Falling asleep in the cloning lab and having a nightmare about miscarrying Kon's child, then waking up to find the most recent clone has failed.

Through all that, the only person who has even a hint of what's going on is Cass. She reads it in Tim's body language while they're in Bludhaven together, but understands his fears and lets him keep his confidence. Even after things go to shit for her, she keeps that secret; even brainwashing couldn't get it out of her.

Then Final Crisis happens. Bruce "dies," Dick becomes Batman, Damian becomes Robin. Tim finds himself adrift, with nothing but this crazy-sounding notion of Bruce's survival to his name, and runs away from the Manor...

And this is part of where I stumble because I don't know if it'd be better for Tim to run into Cass at this point or for her to leave him her Batgirl costume and a letter. One way or another, Cass leaves Tim Batgirl, and that's the push she finally needs to crack her egg and start pursing a transition, socially and medically.

She avoids Babs for a few weeks out of shyness and embarrassment until Oracle manages to track this mysterious new Batgirl down, but once confronted she comes clean and Babs is instantly onboard to support her and also keep Dick and Damian out of the loop.

Dick thinks his little brother skipped town and is both confused and a little hurt that Babs won't trust him with the new Batgirl's identity. Damian takes it as a personal insult and starts going out of his way to find and harass said new Batgirl but then she kicks his ass and it turns out Damian shares Bruce's taste in women so now whoops he's got a puppy crush, which everyone who knows the truth about Tim finds hilarious.

Cass one way or another winds up being the one who goes on Brucequest instead of Tim and follows similar beats as Red Robin, minus Tam Fox or losing her spleen. Speaking of Tam, she has a much easier time finding Tim because while her dad does call her home from Russia to help with the investigation at least she doesn't have to globe-trot or get kidnapped by ninjas, she just has to hunt him down in Gotham, possibly while accidentally allied with Vicki Vale.

Tim enrolls in college under Caroline Hill's name and mostly attends to practice passing in public and live out some normal girl fantasies. Kon, Cassie, and Bart all learn what's up even though she's still taking a break from the Titans and of course they're on board and supportive.

And... yeah, that's pretty much the extent of my ideas so far. Broad scope but not a lot concrete to latch onto, which makes it difficult to convert into a fic, but I do love the concept.

[kingreywrites]

trans new dream !!!! love it. if you have more hcs that you didn’t share in the first ask, consider this your excuse to share them. i would love it.

Thank you!! I love this hc a lot too 🥺💖 Have a few others!! It's kinda disorganised though asfhskdkf sorry 

- Eugene used to bind with whatever would do the work cheaply, so mostly bandages, but once he's welcomed into the castle with Rapunzel, he's given access to way more options. He's kinda worried about straight out asking though, and Rapunzel tries to help him, but it's finally Cassandra who comes through and shows him more comfortable ways to bind (because Cass is non-binary 😌) 

- once he knows what he wants exactly, Rapunzel takes into sewing him binders and decorating them 

- I mentioned it in my last post, but Rapunzel would have more difficulties adapting to having lost her hair, since Gothel did her best to make it the only thing that mattered in her femininity. However, having the same hair color as Arianna, and being told by everyone how much she looks like her mom, and having Arianna herself be really supportive of it and of her choices in general do help her gain confidence in her appearance 

- the first time Frederic calls Eugene "son", Eugene cries a little bit. They don't talk about it. Fred is supportive of them both btw, in the "he's a little confused but he's got the spirit" vibe 

- Rapunzel has a hard time not seeking affirmation, since she had been made so dependent on it for eighteen years. The fact that she's given it freely all the time, by Eugene, her family, and everyone around her, helps her a lot, and I can see her straying from the dresses and the pink/purple colours once she feels more comfortable in the fact that they're not necessary for her to be a woman 

- Eugene finds a new joy in taking care of his appearance, and though he had hidden it for years behind the excuse that he had just a big ego, he's glad that none of this is seen as too feminine for him. He's really anxious about the way other people perceives him, and he's also really sensitive about certain things (as in, jokes about his name are REALLY badly taken) but honestly, if anyone criticise him or Rapunzel, someone in the castle is gonna punch them before they have the time to react 

- in the same vein, the episode where Edmund calls Eugene by his birth name is cut short by the fact that Rapunzel tackles Edmund one-minute in. 

- despite their experiences being so different on the surface, Eugene and Rapunzel definitely have a lot in common. They spend long nights talking about the stuff they lived through, and how they both feel like they have to prove themselves for their identity to be valid (and they both think to themselves quietly that they're gonna do everything so the other doesn't feel like that again) 

- okay so I know that in the show everyone's a giant but that means that, compared to them, Eugene is mostly... short. Except that he's actually taller than Rapunzel, and both of them find this really great (Rapunzel is always happy to get on her tiptoe to kiss him) 

- since it's my headcanons and my made-up world, there are things like HRT and top surgery etc. (Historical accuracy is only here when I want her okay) So, between other things, Eugene does have a goatee, and is REALLY proud of it (and still annoys Cassandra by taking care of it with her weapons). 

- Rapunzel discovers that she actually really likes having some make-up on. It's artistic, she likes how it makes her look, she's really happy to be introduced to it 

- Rapunzel also really enjoys learning more about weapons, and she's amazing with a crossbow because I said so. She has a less strict idea of what "typically masculine" stuff is (Gothel mostly demonized masculinity, and made her feel bad for being associated to it, but being separated from society still means that Rapunzel doesn't have the same stereotypes Eugene does), so when she hears about fighting being mostly a masculine activity, she feels a little bad - but Eugene and Cassandra are both here to tell her that's bullshit anyway.

- Eugene and Rapunzel unofficially take under their wings every lgbt kid in Corona and beyond. They really want to help people like they wish they had been helped when they struggled the most, and they're also not afraid to punch assholes if necessary

[shouldiwritetoday]

Nanowrimo Week 1

Days 1-8

Words: 6668/50000 | 6668/13336

So, I’m like four days behind. Whatever. I’ll get over it. The point is that I’ve written at least like a hundred words each day. Which is a win. For me. I wrote the most today (2656). I’m just finding it really hard to find the motivation to write.

Anyway, I’m writing a story about a soap opera actress whose character is going to be killed off, but before that can happen, she suddenly wakes up in the world of the show and everyone is calling her by her character’s name, so now she has to figure out a way to not die.

Snippet:

The studio was like a second home. When Bee had first been cast, on her first day at work, she couldn’t imagine ever feeling comfortable in such a formidable building with hundreds of people coming in and out, doing heaven knows what at all odd hours of the day. Hell, she couldn’t have even imagined that she would have ever made it this far in her career.

Lyla Blake was her breakout role into stardom. Lyla was a friend Bee could never shake off by now. More soft spoken, less abrasive than she really was. She had unintentionally adopted some of Lyla’s mannerisms after practicing them for hours on end. For example, Bee had never twirled her hair before it became Lyla’s signature way of thinking. Lyla was always more simple minded, a little too eager to please, a little too willing to forgive. She had a near perfect life — a nice home with a nice husband with a nice family supporting her. Well, except for her brother-in-law, but that was another dramatic story all together. The only thing Lyla was missing was children and Bee desperately hoped that this new story arc Lowry was announcing included them.

She greeted those she knew, politely acknowledged those she didn’t but who had welcomed her in. As she made her way over to the offices, she wondered about the fates of other characters in the show. While she liked to believe Lyla was the one and only really important character, soap operas were ensembles and even just one scene could throw off an entire character arc with developmental issues that needed seasons to fix.

Jackson Blake was Lyla’s husband. He was played by, of course, Will Fairfax. He had been struggling with the fall out of his brother Elijah (Ryan Kelsey) abandoning him and the rest of the family upon marrying Lyla. The relationship never recovered and they had yet to figure out the reason why Elijah despised Lyla so. 

Meanwhile, Emma Caroll (played by the amazing and Emmy-award winning actress Scarlett Agapov) was recovering from a particularly bad case of pneumonia after she had been locked out of her house in the middle of a storm with a dead phone and her husband, Ian (Phillip Nicolaides), hadn’t realized she was missing as he had fallen asleep watching movies on the couch with their two children Hannah and Travis. Ian was currently in therapy for almost inadvertently causing her wife’s death. If Brandon Tran (Daniel Ho) hadn’t been coming home from his late night affair with the older and married Mrs. Theresa Martines (Vera de la Cruz), then Emma very well could have died. 

And there was that business to consider. Brandon and Elijah were best friends. Both of them schemed behind Jackson and Lyla’s back. Mrs. Martines was, after all, the wife of Jackson’s boss. However, to further complicate things, Mr. Ricardo Martines (Julio Montoya) had had a past relationship with Lyla’s father in their school days which was coming back to haunt him after the reintroduction of the Michaels family after the wedding. Mr. Martines was right back at it again with questioning his sexuality, thereby leading his wife to have an affair as they were childless. That is to say, whatever plots Brandon and Elijah cook up to pass onto Theresa to then enact on Jackson and inevitably foiled by Ricardo who wishes to do right by the husband of the daughter of his first love. Because there was a missed opportunity or something.

Not to mention, Bee also knew that with this new story arc a new character would be added. Arabella Jones. Bee didn’t know who the actress for her was yet. Some unknown, to be sure. She was also eager to learn her purpose. Most importantly, she hoped that they would get along because nothing was worse than having a coworker she couldn’t stand. The only real friends she had on set were Will and Cassidy Carmichael, who played Olivia O'Malley, the physical therapist who had an on again/off again relationship with Elijah.

Cassidy greeted Bee over by the coffee maker. Skylar went off to talk to a producer, remarking that they would chat again later.

Cassidy Carmichael was a tall woman of thirty. Her straight blonde hair came to her cleft chin in a sweet bob, extenuating the faint roundness of her cheeks. Hazel eyes sparkled at Bee like the day had grown infinitely more interesting. “So,” she said, “d’you think I’ll break up with Eli over five times, or less?”

“Hmm…” Bee pretended to think. “You’re going to break up with him twice, he’s going to call it off three times, and for extra shit, giggles, and drama, when getting back together the last time, he’s going to skip straight to proposing and you two will elope.”

“No way,” Cassidy said. “I’m going to propose.”

Bee laughed. “Right. Because Olivia loves to walk straight into fires unprotected.”

“Nah. It’s ‘cause she’s a right bitch who tries so hard to make her own life difficult.”

They shared a smile. It was one of their favorite pastimes to think up possible plot lines that the writers were thinking of and why they deemed them suitable. Guessing relationship statuses were almost too easy. Cassidy had called the exact season, episode, and page of the script where Jackson proposed to Lyla like she was some sort of soap opera prophet. Those participating in that particular bet had been thoroughly impressed.

Later, Cassidy had told Bee that she had slept with Andrew and dug through his files while he was asleep. Bee laughed for days afterwards.

“So,” Cassidy continued, a sly smirk on her face. Bee prepared herself for whatever provocation was about to be unleashed. “It’s been three months since you-know-who broke up with his girlfriend.”

Clearing her throat, Bee maintained a neutral expression. “So?”

Cassidy nudged her, grinning. “Make your move, Bee. Before some other young filly snatches him up or Catherine comes back to stake her claim.”

Bee rolled her eyes and shrugged, her gaze shifting to her shoes. “I don’t know, Cass,” she sighed. “They were together for three years. You don’t exactly get over a three year relationship in three months.”

“You might, if the next girl to come along has been one of your best friends for the past five years and is super hot.” Cassidy paused to consider her next words. “And, you know, if you’ve already had steamy make out sessions with her.”

“Those were for work!” Bee cried, which only gained her a shrug in reply. “I don’t exactly have a way of knowing if he’s interested in me, nor do I know how to make it clear to him that I am.” This earned her a short laugh, to which she glared at. “Seriously, Cass. I can’t just walk up to Will and say—”

“Ooh,” a low, baritone voice that rang like a heavenly choir cut in. “What kind of gossip can you not just walk up and tell Will?”

[secretlystephaniebrown]

The Hardest Part is Over

Sometimes the hardest thing is to trust.

OR

Stephanie Brown comes out when Bruce Wayne offers her Robin. It’s time for Robin to be a girl. 

A long, long time ago, I wrote a fic called These Twists and Turns of Fate. It was a long, detailed process, and the fic I wrote in that time was something I’m still proud of. But I always wanted to write another story; one where Stephanie Brown gets to stay Robin in that universe. 

And when @insidiousmisandry​ suggested I write some Robin Steph, I confessed to this AU, and recieved plenty of encouragement to return. It’s been over three years since I posted the original. Let’s see if I’ve still got it, huh?

Special thanks to @blackstarfires​ for consulting on this, and @sroloc--elbisivni​ for beta-ing. 

Warnings for: Dysphoria, homophobia and transphobia, child abuse, and panic attacks. 

Also on Ao3

Some people say that the path that we have taken is concrete and can never be changed.

This is, in the plainest of terms, complete and utter bullshit.

One story goes like this; Stephanie Brown is Robin for a short time, and never as herself. She dies as Spoiler and comes back to Gotham as Stephanie Brown.

But this is not that story.

This is the story of Stephanie Brown, the first girl Robin, in a world where she does not die.

It starts, like most things do, with a mother.

Crystal Brown has a baby girl and names her Arthur Brown Junior. The girl names herself Stephanie Brown.

In one universe, Crystal learns about this from a woman named Leslie.

In this universe, she learns it from her daughter.

The smallest of changes can have enormous effects. In one universe, Stephanie Brown’s path as Robin is short and brutal and tainted with the heaviness and pain.

Crystal Brown begins the process of avoiding that tale when she looks up at her child and mentions a woman named Marcie.

Steph’s breath catches in her chest. “Marcie?” She repeats, voice unsteady.

“She lived above us when you were younger,” Crystal says. Her eyes are clear and sober, her voice steady and kind as she reminisces. She doesn’t notice the way that Steph clings to the kitchen counter, the way her breath stutters in her chest in a staccato rhythm, verging on panic. “I’m sure you don’t remember her.”

Steph remembers Marcie; she can never forget Marcie. Marcie, with her beautiful deep voice and her sad eyes and those words of wisdom and importance that Steph has held so, so close to her chest and never quite let go of, even in her darkest moments. Marcie, an inextricable, ever so important part of her life, and one that Steph has never acknowledged out loud, has never admitted to anyone, because Marcie is hers, secret and hidden and safe.

“She’s in the paper today,” Crystal continues, not seeing Steph in this moment, not looking at her. “A lovely piece. She’s got a dance school now.” Crystal closes the newspaper. “Good for her. After all that she went through when she was transitioning, I’m glad she’s found herself.”

And just like that, with her mother’s acknowledgement of who Marcie is, that Marcie is not just a girl that they’d once knew, but that Marcie is trans, that Marcie is like Steph, Steph crumples against the counter.

When Steph falls apart, it is like a dam bursting open. Her tears flood the room, her sobs drowning out anything else her mother might be saying as her knees buckle and she collapses against the counter. Her hands go to her face, trying to stem the tide, but there is nothing she can do, because her mother has, without even knowing it, indicated, for the first time in her life, that she might support Steph in this. In her life, in her struggles.

Stephanie Brown has been alone for such a long, long time, and in this moment, for the first time, she does not feel that way.

“Art?” Her mother is panicked, is fearful, because she can’t tell that these are tears of joy. She can’t see the lightness in Steph’s chest, the slightest smile curving her mouth even as she cries. “Art, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Stephanie Brown opens her mouth and looks at her mother and reaches out and pulls her into a tight hug, burying her face in the fabric of her mother’s shirt.

There is no decision. There is no deliberation. The dam has burst and with it goes Stephanie’s self control and her fear and everything. It has all been swept away and destroyed.

“I remember Marcie,” she finally says, when her voice is under control and the tears have stopped flowing freely. “I… I remember her.”

“Oh!” Crystal tries to look relieved, but she can tell there is something deeper, darker, more complicated here. She reaches up and caresses Steph’s cheek, trying to brush away the tears that cling there. “I’m sorry, you just… you were so young when she moved away.”

“She was beat up by Dad and his friends,” Steph whispers. “Because she was trans.”

Crystal hesitates, but nods. “Yes.”

“I—I knew why he did it,” Steph says. Her instincts scream at her to run. This is too much, too fast, too real. But she is rooted to the spot, held tightly in place. “And it… it made me scared.”

“Sweetheart,” Crystal breathes.

“Because I’m like her,” Steph blurts out, cutting off whatever it is that Crystal will say next. “I’m—I’m a girl Mom. My name is Steph and I’m a girl and—”

It is her turn to be cut off as Crystal envelopes her in a hug. It’s almost suffocatingly tight, but Steph clings back but refuses to relax, because a hug can mean anything, a hug doesn’t mean—

“Oh! Oh my god, I’m sorry, darling, I’m sorry, I never—I love you so much.” She pulls back and her eyes are as wet as Steph’s, and she touches her cheek again. “My baby girl,” she whispers, almost reverently. “My Stephanie.”

And Steph begins to cry again, big, heaving sobs that shake her entire body and send her tumbling to her knees, towards the floor. And Crystal goes with her, wrapping her arms around her daughter, whispering apologies over and over again and declarations and promises, and, most importantly of all, her daughter’s name.

Stephanie takes every single utterance of those syllables and wraps them around herself like a cloak, like a talisman, like protection. Her identity, her mother’s love, they are all tied together, and she feels, for the first time in a very long time, that she can breathe again without fear, that she might not fall apart at the very seams of herself.

She puts on her Spoiler cloak that night and races across the rooftops by herself, and laughter bursts out of her lungs, a pure and joyful noise that sweeps her into the darkness of Gotham.

But no matter how much things change, some things must remain the same.

Tim Drake’s secret is discovered by his father, and it is one secret too many. Secret boyfriends and crime fighting—and the knowledge that Robin, his son, is dating Superboy as well as that ragtag, longhaired “boy” from the edge of Gotham is all too much for that man. He grounds his son, bans him from being Robin, and leaves Gotham without an important role filled.

Batman needs a Robin. This is a fact of the universe. He needs a Robin.

The role of Robin is balance in many ways. It is a partnership of banter and late nights, of reminders of who they are and who they should be. It is inspiration and kindness and light, balancing each other out and finding a dynamic that is… dynamic.

It is only natural, in many ways, that Bruce Wayne would extend the offer to Stephanie Brown when she stumbles into the Bat Cave, giddy that her codes work, intoxicated by the fact that her mother had called her by her real name before she crawled out the window that night, and generally radiating light and joy.

“Arthur,” Bruce says, and even that can’t dim the knowledge that her mom knows and loves her anyway.

She doesn’t protest the use of the full name, even though she hates it, even though it reminds her terribly of her father, and instead bounces on the balls of her feet, and grins. “Hey boss-man! So, I hear Timmy’s out of the game for now, so I was wondering if I could, like, start patrolling with Cass again, since she’s gonna be partnerless?”

He looks at her, and he sees someone determined to the point far past stubbornness, someone kind with a core of steel. Not a naturally gifted fighter, but there is always something to be said for not understanding the concept of staying down, of giving up.

He looks at her, and he sees Robin.

He offers her Robin, and the entire world grinds to a halt.

Every child in Gotham City has dreamed of being Robin. Every child dreams of donning the cape and mask, of being Batman’s partner. Robin is a Teen Titan, a member of Young Justice, Batman’s partner, the people’s friend, a force for good.

And Stephanie’s thoughts grind to a halt there.

Because Robin is a boy.

And…

Stephanie Brown is not out by any meaning of the word to anyone but her mother, and Marcie, who probably has not spared her a single thought since that day on the playground. But…

Steph doesn’t know if she can do this.

Here we encounter another ripple in the fabric of reality. In this universe, Bruce Wayne funds a scholarship for LGBT students at Gotham University, and Vicki Vale does an expose on it that hits the front page.

He funds it in another, sadder story as well. But it does not make the front page, and Stephanie Brown never sees it, and Crystal Brown never thinks to point it out to her daughter.

But in this world, she did, and Stephanie Brown stares at Bruce Wayne, and her mother’s support and that knowledge make her brave enough to do something she’d never have imagined doing before.

She shakes her head.

“I—I can’t.”

Bruce frowns, prompting a further response. He can’t understand; he knows this child in front of him, knows the desire to belong, to be a part of something, to help, even if he doesn’t always agree with the methods, and has occasionally suspected otherwise.

She swallows, gulping for air like a drowning woman, and finally blurts out. “Robin’s a boy. I’m not. I’m a girl.” She throws out those last words like batarangs, as if expecting them to soar through the air and cut him, as if expecting him to recoil and then counterattack.

Bruce glances at the Robin costume he is still holding out. “I don’t see why Robin can’t be a girl.”

Bruce Wayne, as it is fairly well known, does not handle emotions well. So when Stephanie Brown, future Robin, bursts into tears in the middle of the cave, he proceeds to awkwardly retreat several steps, set down the Robin costume, call Alfred, pat her on the back awkwardly, before he finally manages to suggest they go upstairs to continue this conversation.

Stephanie follows him upstairs. Alfred makes a pot of tea, places a plate of cookies on the kitchen table between the two of them, and then makes a strategic retreat, forcing Bruce to deal with this situation entirely on his own.

The situation is less than comfortable for Steph as well as Bruce. Bruce Wayne is strange and foreign and confusing to her; she never knows what he wants from her, she never knows how he will react to anything. This kindness so far is unexpected, and she’s not sure how long it will last.

“Arthur…” Bruce stops, and then frowns. “Do you prefer a different name?”

“Stephanie,” she says, her heart racing in her ears. “Steph.”

“Stephanie,” he says, and it’s like music. Three whole people now have called her by that name, outside of her own head. Renee Montoya, her mother, and now Bruce Wayne. He taps his fingers on the table, and she realizes, with shock, that he is nervous. She’s never seen him nervous before. He is always impassive and scary and occasionally a total dork, but never nervous. And suddenly, she realizes that he wants to do this right, and something in her chest loosens just a little.

“How… how would you like to handle this?” He asks.

Steph looks up, confused. “Handle what?”

He frowns at her, as if confused by her having to ask. “Transitioning.”

She gapes at him.

Transitioning is nothing but the most distant of dreams for her. Her father and money are two terrifying obstacles.

But she thinks about not hating the image she sees in the mirror every day, and her heart aches just a little, thinking about the possibility.

“I… I don’t know,” she says, fidgeting in her seat, playing with the mug that Alfred had given her. “I—my dad—”

Bruce nods, considering. “Transitioning might be… difficult. Increasing your estrogen could threaten your physical regimen. We can work around it, of course, but it will take some considerations.” She thinks that if he had a notepad nearby, he would be taking notes, the look of concentration on his face is so fierce.

“I—”

“I believe Leslie would be willing to help,” he says thoughtfully, taking a sip from his own mug. “She’s had some experience with this.”

“Stop,” Steph blurts out, eyes wide. “You mean… you still want me to be Robin?”

He looks at her, looking slightly bewildered. “Of course,” he says, simple and easy, as if he hasn’t just overturned everything in Steph’s entire world. “I’ll help with the costs, of course,” he adds, and Steph doesn’t even hesitate, just throws her arms around him and hugs him tightly.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He awkwardly pats her on the back, and in that moment Stephanie Brown realizes that Bruce Wayne, also known as the Batman, the terror of Gotham City, is a gigantic loser.

He places a Robin badge in her hand. It’s small and black and circular, with the bright yellow R emblazoned on it proudly.

“If you want,” he says, “Jason Blood enchanted this. It will allow you to alter your appearance while you’re Robin.”

Steph stares at him, gaping. Suddenly, the badge seems like the most precious thing in the entire world.

“I understand you’re only just starting your regimen,” he says. “But… I believe this might help with the dysphoria you mentioned.”

Steph wants to hug him again, but she holds herself back. Bruce Wayne, she is slowly discovering, is awkward at the best of times, and human contact baffles him. Steph is tactile by nature, but she’s trying to adjust. This is the best thing that’s ever happened to her, and she refuses to jeopardize it. “How… how do I use it?” She asks, staring down at it.

“We’ll stop by Jason’s on patrol tonight,” he says. “He’ll show you. His friend Sir Ysin is there as well. You might… talking with him might be interesting for you.”

Steph nods, not understanding. She knows about Jason Blood, Gotham’s local magic user, but Sir Ysin is completely unknown to her. But if Bruce thinks she’ll benefit from talking to him, well, it probably won’t be that bad.

She’s still patrolling with Bruce as Spoiler, as they work out the details of her costume and training, as well as the changes to her exercise routine and diet to try to compensate for the hormones she’s now taking. She’s itching to try on the outfit they’re designing; every inch of it feels more professional than her own Spoiler outfit, even if this one was designed by Babs instead of sewed by Steph herself. But even more importantly, the Robin costume is designed for a girl. She’s practically shaking with excitement whenever she thinks about it.

Robin, the Girl Wonder.

That’s her, that’s who she’ll be.

He pours her another cup of tea and she drinks. This is becoming routine, she thinks. Tea before patrol with Batman. It’s a quiet moment of contemplation before the chaos of the night. Just the two of them right now, with Cass out of town, but Steph wonders if things will change, when she returns. Maybe she’ll join them? Steph doesn’t know if Cass likes tea.

“Your hair,” he says suddenly, and Steph looks up suddenly.

“What about it?” She asks, fingering it. She’s got it in a ponytail, like she always does when she’s Spoiler, and then keeps it under her hood. She’s tried various things with it; sprays and pins and even tucking it into her costume, but the ponytail is the easiest way to handle things.

He frowns. “It’s a handhold. It could prove to be a problem.”

“I can’t cut it,” Steph blurts out, blanching at the idea of it.

He looks frustrated. “I know,” he says. “But we need to…” he trails off thoughtfully. “Hmm.”

“Barbara wore her hair long,” Steph blurts out. “Black Canary too.”

Bruce nods. “You’ll have to wear it loose,” he cautions.

Steph nods enthusiastically. “Okay,” she says.

When she comes back to the Manor the next day, after a long conversation with Sir Ysin about glamor magic for gender presentation and with her Robin’s badge calibrated to her appearance, she finds a bright red headband lying on top of her completed Robin uniform.

“To keep it out of your face,” Bruce says when she looks up at him.

Steph hugs him again, a giddy, light feeling building in her chest that only grows as she puts on the red tunic, the green leggings, the black cape. Red headband, yellow belt, the badge on her chest. The darkness, the long hair, the padding in her tunic already do most of the work for the badge. From a distance, in the dark, she already passes. Steph has worked hard on the badge’s illusion, carefully making sure that there’s no trace of shadow, that her jawline’s just a little softer.

She looks into the mirror and she sees Robin, and there’s no unease in her stomach. Maybe she doesn’t look like she wished she had as a child, but she’s Robin. She’s Stephanie Brown and she’s Robin, and that’s worth almost anything in the entire world.

Bruce sets a hand on her shoulder, warm and comforting, and she beams up at him, her smile so wide that she thinks her face might split in two.

“Are you ready, Robin?” He asks her, and Steph laughs, loud and cheerful and shameless.

“You know it!” She says, following him to the Batmobile with a spring in her step.

“You’re Robin!” Cass greets Steph eagerly when she comes home from patrol. How Cass got into her apartment, she’s not sure, but she’s waiting for her, looking tired but none the worse for wear after her own patrol. Cass’s mask is still on, but that does nothing to hide the enthusiasm with which she tackles Steph to the ground. “You’re Robin!”

“I am!” Steph laughs, hugging her best friend tightly.

“Happy for you,” Cass says, finally letting Steph sit up. “You… deserve this. Art.” Cass smiles at her.

“Oh!” Steph says. “I guess you haven’t heard?” Her heart races slightly in her chest. Another one, another risk, another time to have to tell someone.

Cass tilts her head in one of the silent but very evocative gestures she’s so good at. Steph thinks Cass could tell an entire story with a head tilt.

“My name is Steph now,” Steph says. “I’m… I’m a girl.”

Cass tries it out. “St-eph,” she repeats slowly.

“It’s short for Stephanie,” Steph says. “Like Cass is short for Cassandra.”

“Steph-an-ee,” Cass says again, as if she’s tasting it. She takes off her mask and smiles at Steph. Her smile is wide and honest and quite possibly one of the best things that Steph has ever seen. “It’s… good.”

Steph grins, trying to act as if there isn’t the strange feeling in her stomach that always happens when she’s worried about something and it doesn’t happen. Cass, she was sure of. Cass was never a risk. But it’s still so wonderful.

“Steph,” Cass hums again, thoughtful. Her dark brown eyes flick over Steph’s body, categorizing her every twitch. Steph wonders what she sees. “Names are… important? Being a girl… is important?”

“Very,” Steph says, then fights back a yawn. “I’ll explain more later, if that’s okay?”

Cass snickers. “You’re sleepy,” she says, both teasing and accusing. Then she picks Steph up bodily and dumps her in her bed. Steph yelps at the indignity, and tries to protest being thrown into bed while still wearing her full costume, including her boots, but Cass doesn’t seem bothered at all. She pecks Steph on the forehead briefly before putting her mask back on. “I’ll go now. Good morning!”

Then she opens Steph’s window again and vanishes into the first traces of dawn, leaving Steph alone in her room with a light heart and heavy eyelids.

“Stephanie,” Bruce’s voice is calm and steadying. It grounds her, even as the room feels like it’s spinning around her.

“He knows,” Steph blurts out. “My dad he—he knows. Tim’s dad—he—he—visited and he said he talked to him and—”

“Stephanie,” Bruce says, and her name, urgent and earnest and in the voice that is Bruce, not Batman helps her breathe again. “Can you get here? I’ll make sure your mother gets to the manor, but can you get here yourself or should I send Cassandra?”

Steph stares down at her hands.

“He says Tim can be Robin again,” she hears her own voice say, distant and far away. “He says he’s not going to stop him anymore.”

“We can discuss this when you’re safe,” Bruce says. “I haven’t heard from Tim.” He pauses, then says urgently. “Robin. Get back to the Cave.”

Steph nods jerkily, realizing that he can’t see her, but not saying anything. “Oh! The… the plans?”

“Bring those,” he says. “But get out of there now.”  

Steph has a go bag—she’s had one for years now. But it won’t do for a situation like this.  She grabs her Robin costume and stuffs it in there, snatches up anything that might be sensitive, that might give her father a clue where she’s going, and throws it all in haphazardly. The bag that results is too bulky and doesn’t contain the things she wants to bring; not her books or little treasures. But there’s no sign of her transition or job as a superhero here, and that’s what matters. Her father knows she’s gay, know she dates guys, but he does not know her to be a girl.

She snatches photos off her desk, shoves them in on top of things. Faces, faces, she can’t have him knowing the faces of people in her lives, even if most of them are harmless. She has no photos with Tim, and only one with Cass. But she can’t risk it. He might go after people in her life.

She has been scared of Arthur Brown as long as she can remember; he has ruled over her life, even in his moments of kindness. He is a tyrant, a locked closet, a black eye, and a cruel laugh. He can find her anywhere she runs, he always used to tell her that.

But he can’t find her if Batman’s protecting her. She whispers that to herself, like a talisman. She’s Robin. He can’t touch Robin. Bruce will protect her, Bruce will hide her.

She’s not that scared little girl locked in a closet anymore. She can fight back.

Or at least, that’s what she tries to tell herself as she barely remembers to snatch up the sleek black USB drive from her desk and holds it in her hand as she bolts for the front door, her cell phone in her other hand.

She collides with Jack Drake on her way out, and she draws herself up to a halt.

“Mr. Drake,” she says. Her tongue is clumsy in her mouth. “Can I help you?”

He frowns at her. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Just to a friend’s house,” she lies. She wonders what he sees when he looks at her—with her long hair and her piercings. He looks down on her, she already knows that, but does he notice that her jaw is softening, that there’s the faintest hints of mascara around her eyes? They weren’t there when she used to visit his house, showed up for her study dates with Tim. Does he notice them now?

“I was wondering if I can use your phone,” he says. “I’m afraid someone slashed my tires.”

Steph wants to scream at him, wants to tell him to go away, to find someone whose life he hasn’t just ruined, but she’s supposed to be a hero, she’s supposed to help people. Fumbling, she sticks the drive into her back pocket and hands over her cell phone. Trying to distract herself while he makes the call, she turns around to lock the door, anxiously looking at her watch the whole time.

She doesn’t notice that the USB drive was in the pocket where she keeps her keys, and that pulling out the keys sends it onto the ground.

She doesn’t know that after taking her phone back from Jack Drake and running to get her bike, which she will drive as Robin to the Batcave, he will see it.

She doesn’t know that Jack Drake will, realizing it is hers, pass it off to her father, who will use it to try to start a gang war that will end with himself in control over all of Gotham’s gangs.

All of that comes later.

Right now, Stephanie Brown is rushing towards Wayne Manor, heart in her throat as she tries to put as much distance between herself and her father as she can possibly manage.

She parks the motorcycle, and Bruce is waiting for her. He’s not in uniform, instead wearing one of those simple, but elegant suits she sees him wearing for work at Wayne Industries. She called him away from work, she realizes, and guilt floods her. He does important things and she pulled him away from it because she was a scared little girl—  

“Are you alright?” He asks, doing the most intimate gesture he knows how to do, placing an awkward hand on her shoulder.

“I’m—is my mom okay?” Steph says, because that’s easier to think about than the answer to that question.

“She’s here, she’s upstairs with Alfred,” Bruce says. “Stephanie. Can you tell me what happened?”

Steph looks up at him. She’s not short by any definition of the word, but Bruce Wayne is tall, and his presence is dwarfing. “My dad knows I’m gay because Tim’s dad told him.” She hates how small she sounds there, how pathetic and quiet and sad. She waits for him to react as he realizes she was overreacting, for him to tell her to just go home. He probably thought her dad knew his secret identity or something like that, he didn’t realize it was just her being scared of her father.

Bruce just nods, as if that’s more than reason enough to be scared. “We’ll keep you safe, Stephanie.”

Steph remembers playing hide and seek with her father. He could always find her, had a nose for knowing all of her little bolt holes where she’d go to hide. She remembers his laughter when he found her; sometimes kind, usually cruel. If he finds the Cave—

“He won’t,” Bruce says, and she realizes she must have said it out loud. He places his other hand on her other shoulder, standing in front of her, a wall of muscle and confidence. “Steph. You’re not alone. Let us help you.”

Steph opens her mouth and sobs come out, and Bruce Wayne hugs her tightly, pulling her against his chest. She grips the jacket of his suit and buries her face in the fabric and cries and cries and cries until there’s no tears left, and she’s kneeling on the floor of the Cave, with Bruce’s arms around her.

It takes them a day to realize the plans are missing, and Steph has a panic attack right in the middle of the kitchen, in front of Bruce and Alfred, as she realized just how badly she screwed up. Bruce sends Cass to go back to Steph’s apartment to see what she can find out.

But it’s Tim who shows up, bearing the bad news.

“He gave them to your dad, uh, Steph?” Tim Drake cuts an awkward figure, staring at her like he doesn’t know what to make of her. Cass has lent Steph one of the skirts Bruce keeps buying her, and she’s thrown on one of her baggy band t-shirts on top of it. She’s still working with the makeup thing, but Cass tried to help her that morning. The result is that her mouth looks lopsided and there’s mascara smudged on her cheekbone, but Steph is just trying to enjoy herself. She can work on perfecting how she wants to look later, when there’s not crises looming on the horizon.

He doesn’t know how to address her as Stephanie, his ex-girlfriend. And that’s not even tackling the big elephant in the room that wears red and green tights.

Maybe it wasn’t Bruce’s to give away, Steph thinks, as they talk about what her father might do with the plans, should he be able to access them. Maybe Tim can just take it back whenever he wants.

Steph can’t meet Tim’s gaze. It feels scorching on her back, and despite all of her anger and hurt, she feels ashamed.

She took Robin from him. She had no right to do that.

Being Robin is the best thing that ever happened to her, but it was also the best thing that ever happened to Tim. Steph can’t justify keeping it to herself, not when she has Spoiler and Bruce is helping her transition and—

Cass nudges her sharply. “Out of your head,” she says. “Focus.” It’s kind and soft, without condemnation, but Steph tries her best to refocus, to help.

When the meeting ends with Alfred calling them to lunch, Steph lingers back, meeting Tim’s gaze. “Tim…” she says, unsure of where to begin, of how to explain. Maybe she should cuss him out for letting her father drive her away. Maybe she should cry about him breaking her heart, let him actually deal with the mess he made of her for once instead of pawning her off to others.

But here she stands, tall and proud, her hair forming soft waves around her face and her chin held high, and she says. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you before I started being Robin.”

Tim lets out a sharp exhale and looks away. “You’re… you’re doing a good job. I’m glad he had you.”

Steph tries not to flinch at the past tense, but he’s a detective. He spots it.

“Has. Has you.”

“It’s… it’s yours if you want it,” she says, trying to keep her voice calm and firm and not to let the waver in, no matter how much she wants it to. Her throat is closing up with tears but she tries her hardest not to let them fall, because Tim Drake, she decides here and now, does not get to see her cry over this, not when he didn’t let her inside on the worst day of her life.

Tim looks at her, and he shakes his head.

“No,” he says, and Steph stares at him.

Because the thing is, she knows Tim Drake. She knows that he loves Robin, she knows that he begged for this position. She knows he loves it, loves being clever, being a detective. This is his family.

She’s grateful, yes, she wants to cry and shout it from the rooftops that she’s Robin, but she doesn’t understand.

“Batman needs a Robin,” Tim says, and it’s slow, like he’s trying to figure out the answer even as he’s saying it. “But… I don’t think… I don’t think I’m the Robin he needs right now.”

Steph frowns at him. “But I am?”

“You… it’s different with you,” he says, still struggling for words. “He’s… you… you challenge him. You’re good for him.”

“Tim,” Steph says. “You were great at Robin.”

Tim shrugs. “Maybe I was,” he says. “But he needs you, now.”

Steph wants to reach out to him, wants to hug him, but the space between them is still too awkward, too heavy, too loaded. There are still too many conversations they need to have before she can hit that point, before she can open herself up to him like that.

“What will you do?” She asks, instead of saying any of the things on her mind.

Tim shrugs. “Maybe work with Babs for a bit. And…” He hesitates. “Cass and I have been talking about Bludhaven. Maybe I can find a new start there.”

Steph swallows. “I see,” she says. She glances over at Cass, who’s eating, not paying attention to them right now. She tries not to be hurt, that Cass is going to leave again. But Cass is always leaving, Steph has to learn this. Cass is going to be Batman one day; it’s unspoken, but Steph knows this to be true in her bones. Cass needs to learn everything that she can learn; leadership and detective work and reading and writing and every other thing she can get her hands on, because she’s going to be the best.

Steph can’t begrudge her that, even if her heart already aches with the predicted absence.

“That’s nice,” she says. She turns, unsure of where she’s going, but wanting to end this conversation. Tim Drake is overwhelming. Right now, he’s bringing up all of the old memories, all the old hurts, and Steph can’t handle that right now. Right now, she needs distance, she needs focus…

She needs the old piano in the upstairs library.

“Steph!” Tim catches her on the arm and Steph turns. “Look after him, okay?” And the look on his face is full of such raw, honest concern that she melts just a little.

“I will,” she promises, and gives him a smile, a real one, warm and bright. She can’t remember the last time Tim made her smile like that.

He gives her an answering grin in response, then lets go of her arm. Once, she would have been upset at him letting go so quickly, would have mourned his absence. But that was then, and this is now, and Steph just quietly slips out of the room, searching for the piano that she knows exists in this large, cavernous house.

The Manor is a maze that Steph is still learning; Alfred and Bruce have provided her with a room, close to Cass’s. Her mother has one too, for the duration of their stay while they try to hunt her dad down,, to put him away so he can’t hurt either of them.

The room feels odd. It feels permanent. Every time she steps in there, she feels like something warm and soft has been wrapped around her. Like it’s saying welcome home every time.

Never in her life has Stephanie Brown felt so comfortable in every way; not in her own skin, not as a superhero, and not in this strange house that she’s wandering, in search of that piano that she’s seen once or twice before.

She finds it, and sits herself down to play. There’s sheet music in the bench; old pop songs that she doesn’t recognize and some classic pieces, yellowed with age. She flips through them, and promises herself she’ll go through them all, and add them to her repetoire. But now, all she wants to do is play an old favorite.

Melodia Africana II is fast and lyrical and it sweeps her up in it, helping her muscles relax as she plays. The piano is beautiful; old but well kept, and shockingly in tune, given that she’s pretty sure no one in this ancient manor actually plays. But the sound is gorgeous and deep, and she finds herself losing track of everything else in the room as she immerses herself in the music.

“You play very well,” Bruce says from behind her, as the last chord fades. She looks up.

“Thanks,” she says. She runs her finger along the edge of the bench. “Whose was it?”

“My mother’s,” he says. Steph swallows, but nods. “How long have you been playing?”

“Forever,” Steph says. She offers him a grin, wide and cheeky and far more confident than she feels. “Got a request?”

He laughs, honestly laughs, and Steph nearly falls off the bench. “Maybe another time,” he says, placing a hand on her shoulder. Steph grins at him even wider now, something warm and happy in her chest. “Right now, Alfred’s almost got dinner ready.”

Steph bounces up to her feet, grinning. “Food sounds awesome,” she says. “Then patrol, right?” The best part about summer is that there’s no homework before patrol. She can mess around with Cass and maybe Tim, if she’s up for it, instead of slogging through writing papers.

“That’s right,” he says. “I was thinking you might like to go out with Cassandra tonight. I’ve got a few things I need to do on my own.”

Steph nods, grinning. She hasn’t gone out with Cass as Robin yet, and her walk gains an extra bit of bounce as her excitement sets in. Batgirl and Robin are a dynamic duo in their own right, legends of their own, separate from Batman in many ways. She can’t contain her eagerness as she sits down next to Cass at dinner, and even knowing that Cass is thinking about leaving soon can’t reign in her enthusiasm. She isn’t even worried about her dad having Bruce’s plans, isn’t even worried about having to hide from him.

Those are worries for later.

For now, things are just fine.

She races Cass along the rooftops.

Being Robin is amazing, Steph thinks as she leaps across the gap over to the next block, the impact hitting her ankles hard but not slowing her down in the slightest.

Cass is faster though, always faster, and tackles her, arms wrapped around Steph’s middle as the two of them go crashing down to the ground in a tangle of limbs and capes. “Tag,” Cass says, incredibly smug and proud of herself, as if she couldn’t take Steph blindfolded with one hand tied behind her back. As if tackling Robin the Girl Wonder is an achievement that could even register to the One Who Is All. Steph laughs, letting her head fall back against the cement of the rooftop.

“When do you leave?” Steph asks, looking at Cass, when they’re sitting down, feet dangling over the side of the fire escape. It took them a while to find this place, but it’s a good one. Steph almost wishes she had food or something. It would be a good hang out spot, she thinks. Gotham is full of nice little niches like this one. Places to just take a moment and look at the world.

Cass shrugs. “Don’t know,” she says. She reaches over and pats Steph’s hand. “I’ll visit,” she promises. “We’re… a team.”

Steph turns and grins at her. “Thanks, Cass,” she whispers, and hugs her best friend as tightly as she can. Cass hugs her back just as tightly. It’s a wonder no one has a broken rib.

“I’m glad you’re Robin,” Cass says in her ear, almost soft enough that Steph might miss it.

Steph pulls back slightly, frowning. “You don’t miss Tim?” Cass and Tim were inseparable, like siblings. Their Batgirl and Robin dynamic had been wonderful; that was why Tim was going with Cass to Bludhaven. They balanced each other out nicely, in a way that Steph wasn’t quite sure she and Cass would be able to recreate.

Cass shrugs again, then places her hand over Steph’s Robin badge. Steph flushes slightly at the action, but Cass plows on, not noticing where the badge is or not thinking it important enough to move it right away. “It makes you happy,” Cass says. “I like that.”

Steph grins at her, and oh. That’s a thought for another time, she thinks, staring at Cass’s masked face and wishing that the mask wasn’t there so that she could see Cass’s face.

A crush on her best friend is not exactly convenient.

Cass, oblivious to Steph’s thoughts, stares up at the sky, at the signal, blazing right against the clouds. “I’ve never been to Bludhaven,” Cass says, and it’s almost conversational, almost nervous, but yet neither of those things at the same time.  

Steph grins at her, shaking her head slightly. “You’ll make it yours, Cass,” she promises her. “You’ll figure it out.” Because if anyone could, it would be Cass and Tim. It should be fascinating, watching the two of them try to untangle all of the complications and the dirt and the lies that flood Bludhaven.

They’re going to be amazing, Steph thinks, and she hopes Cass can see those thoughts in her body language. She doesn’t doubt Cass, not one bit.

Cass clearly smiles, even behind her mask. “Yes,” she says, confidently. “Tim will help.” She gets to her feet in a swift, graceful movement that mere mortals like Steph can only dream of. “Let’s go,” she says. “Night is… still young.”

Steph bursts out laughing, but takes Cass’s offered hand to get to her feet.

They take off across the rooftops again, this time with Steph chasing Cass. She probably won’t catch her the fair way, but then again, where’s the fun in that?

Some people say that Robin has to be a boy.

That is, to be crude, complete and utter bullshit.

In one world, Stephanie Brown dies on a helicopter. Her heart stutters to a stop and Leslie brings her back. She dies because of her own mistakes and the mistakes of many others, but particularly she dies because of the cruelty of two people.

Leslie hides Stephanie Brown away, where she comes out of the closet and transitions. She stays away until she is healthy and whole.

Stephanie Brown stops being Robin the day that Jack Drake visits her apartment in that world.

But this is not that world.

In this world, Stephanie Brown joins the Teen Titans. She joins Young Justice and fights by their side. She grows up and comes out in Gotham, and it’s messy and complicated. Her hair grows longer and her smile grows wider, and she lives.

She’s Robin.

[sasamdcu]

So I watched the newest episode of YJ because I was recommended by Rich from Whelmed as it showed how they were taking Harper’s Character, and I trust him on this. And as hesitant and turned off from previous episodes as I’ve been I still wanted to know what the heckie they were doing. And I’m glad I did. As a wise man Rich quoted once said “Being a YJ fan is [emotionally] complicated”.

Sorry for the rant previously about their characterization before this episode Rich. Sorry for a second.

So after this weeks episode of Young Justice I feel a bit better about Harper’s characterization and the character assassination from the beach scene. I see what they were trying to do. I still don’t like it overall though. This episode felt largely tokenistic.

I think it’s important to talk about Domestic Abuse. Especially with vulnerable teens. The problem is there are other characters this could have been addressed with. To a degree it has been with Artemis though obviously it couldn’t have been as overtly due to Cartoon Network at the time. It could have been Tara with Slade if they wanted to avoid him being a pedophile like he is in Judas Contract and just be more of an abusive father figure(because even off Cartoon Network talking about pedophilia might be pushing it). Though from hints at the end of this episode it looks like something else might be going on with Tara instead(if they give her a redemption arc I am 100% for her not being used for this situation). But they also have Cass and Steph. Both who have shitty villain parents as well. Cass’ in particular being particularly abusive. Though I guess Harper’s is the least ��super villain” and most just deadbeat criminal father.

My problem is Fundamentally this changes Harper’s story greatly from the comics. It takes her from someone who was strong and independent and dependable and who’s story was one of hope and moving forward and helping others and becomes one of suffering and needing being saved and It’s not that stories about domestic abuse aren’t important. It’s that we rarely see the other side and the rebuilding and positivity that comes after escaping a situation. That’s what Harper in the comics gave us. And I think it’s more powerful than a rehashed “my father hits us” story that is used often especially in stories of queer youth. Especially since most of the people watching Young Justice now are the young adults who have grown up on Young Justice and have possibly recently escaped similar circumstances and need those stories of the future. Of things working out.

The people who need the stories of speaking out are generally going to be younger and as a result inherently less likely to even see this episode due to the very privatized services for watching Young Justice. You cannot watch it outside of the US legally.(trust me I’m in Canada.) You need to pay for a DC Universe subscription.(And outside of the US for a US based VPN) For a kid struggling with abusive parents this isn’t going to be something they’ll widely run into. It’s something they need to search for. Mostly likely on pirate sites which again trust me DC have been decent at keeping down on release days. And that doesn’t help nearly as much. If this had come out when it was still on Cartoon Network or even still on Netflix I would full heartedly support this take on Harper’s story. But as it stands it feels unnecessary for it to have been HARPER to be the one who had to tell it. There are other characters. Harper could have been that positive light. And maybe she will in the future. But it still feels somehow diminished.

And at it’s core this is totally just an issue of target audience, as a young adult Harper in the comics gave me this story of a girl in her late teens who’s found a place in life and is finding ways to help others. Young Justice gives me a young teen who’s struggling to stay alive through an abusive household. I clearly relate more to the comics with where I am currently in my life. The story told here will always be important and while I don’t think it’s best for Harper’s story I also wouldn’t want it removed at all. It is very important for these types of stories to be told. I again just would have really like a more positive story in Harper personally. Nothing I can say to criticize it really matters however because the message is more important than the character interpretation I think on this matter. I don’t have to like their take on Harper. But I don’t want them to lessen this message. It’s hard to explain. Being let down about something because they’re doing something else with it that’s important on a fundamental social level and could help others is weird because you don’t want to criticize the message and want to support it and it makes it feel a bit like you can’t say “hey this could have been done better.” But that’s more or less where I’m at. It could have been done better. But I’d rather have it than not.

It also doesn’t excuse the biphobic way of introducing her bisexuality by saying she cheats during a scene she’s getting drunk and shooting guns. That scene wasn’t necessary. You could have had her pulled into Therapy based on the bruises no booze or guns involved. You could have had her mention he beats them for being Queer. You didn’t need to link her bisexuality with cheating. And maybe that’s why it bothers me so much about this change. It still links her queerness with suffering and being a victim and being self destructive. (Which is what I mean above by. It could have been done better.) Queer people need not just characters who suffer but characters who are strong and independent and happy as well. And that was taken away for scenes that feel largely unnecessary outside of the counseling session.

Instead we’re given Kaldur being queer. Which I’m so glad they did. With Jackson in the comics I so badly wanted Kaldur to be confirmed part of the queer community and we got that. Unfortunately it feels week and tokenistic. We get a shot of him kissing another man. A side character who appeared to my knowledge once in the comics and has no speaking lines. Maybe that will change? But honestly we have had so many main characters couple up in hetero relationships that this just doesn’t feel like enough. It feels like a cheap way to please people without having to actually write the relationship further into the show. It also doesn’t help alleviate the worry that the writers just don’t understand how to write queer relationships, a feeling felt strongly after that beach scene by many and which I know has actively alienated many fans, myself included.

Greg himself admits he’s still learning about the Queer community and I can respect that. He’s open about trying his best and still learning. My only hope is that the staff have hired some queer people to help build these portrayals in this case. It doesn’t feel like they have and knowing how well Voltron went in the end after refusing to hire experts well. If they haven’t then again I’m going to keep worrying that there isn’t something more going on and the community is going to be failed again. Because if you don’t know much about the community. The best way to make sure they’re being treated right in your representation is honestly just hire an expert to double check for you. It’s literally if you don’t know just ask someone who does. It’s not hard. I tweeted asking if there was anyone like that on staff but haven’t received a response. I can hope.

Anyways I’m like the only person who’s ever written Tara/Harper content specifically Tara/Harper/Raven so if I get that end game somehow with the absurd half these characters never met representation then fuck it I rescind everything and will boy at Greg’s feet praising him for giving me literally everything I as a queer poly trans woman could ever want in a DC work. (throw Cass in too for good measure)

Anyways this is a mess because I slept through high school and never learned how to write a proper essay. If you’ve suffered through this long through the rambling and repeating and whining then you deserve something to brighten your day a bit. Have a very niche meme.

[pomegranate-salad]

Seeds of Thought : Wicdiv #27

I slightly rushed this this month because uni stuff is a bit all over the place lately. Feel free NOT to point out typos as I’m about to dive in 4 hours worth of administrative law notes and I really need to believe in myself right now. Thoughts and opinions on the new issue under the cut, not spoiler-free.

 KEEP POLITICS OUT OF US !

 “Roll credits !” would say one particular YouTube channel. After four issues, Wicdiv actually provided us for an in-universe explanation for the title of this arc : Imperial Phase (part I) isn’t just our intuitive understanding of it, it’s “a well-supported model” for any Pantheon that enters its second year. And while this information only shows up toward the end, this issue seems constructed like a pop-up book of that point, developing the variations of what this could mean for each character. The issue opens with Baal’s mission, ends with Cassandra’s obsession, and in the middle ? Anarchy in the UK.

 Now I’m not going to go and unpack everything this issue does and says about its characters, not only because I don’t have the time, but also because hovering over every loaded panel is something even more interesting : the nagging feeling that none of them, taken individually, really matters. I’m sure there will be much talk about the odd structuring at the core of the issue, but personally I found the actual disposition less meaningful than the effect it had on the reader. Because of the changing divisions between the different snippets, you cannot get into a page by focusing directly on one storyline : first, you have to seize it in its entirety, spot the junction lines and decide which block to read first. Before jumping into one, you have to catch a glimpse of the others, have your eyes drawn to every panel standing out because of a contrast in colour or close faces. When you read a block, you can’t help but deviate to an adjacent panel, read a word or two, get back on track. You get in and out of blocks, move on to the next one, try to draw meaning from their juxtaposition, to find alternative reading orders ; you wonder if the links between them are deliberate or just your own interpretation.

You are like an analyst starring at a data spreadsheet, trying to wrap their head around all the info, to find order in the apparent chaos, highlight common trends, spot outliers. Seize and interpret. A single panel means nothing, and there are no solitary ones in these pages. Out of sample size comes accuracy, on the sum of individualities you build meaning. And because we’re the analyst leaning over the page, and not one of the insignificant data lost on it, we can stamp our general understanding onto every individual story. We never come into one data fresh. Each exists and makes sense relatively to the others.

 This ties in to the permanent double layer of Wicdiv, which I’ve discussed here : there’s always a filter to our connexion with the gods. No matter how close we get as an audience, we’ll always be infinitely closer to the in-world audience, the adoring public, the reporters, the historians and the psychologists. Before we are the gods, we are the ones watching them. And while Fandemonium was about what it’s like to be a fan, Imperial Phase (part I) takes us to the world of scholars. In the kaleidoscope of what it means to be a public figure, we’ve left the stadiums and twitter accounts for the museums and the monographies. Another facet, another layer forced on your reading. The gods are not simply obsessed, they’re not simply losing it, they’re reproducing a well-supported model. Their teen angst bullshit doesn’t just have a body count, it has an archive section, a conference cycle and a study department.

I said in my previous SOT that despite the time we’ve spent around them we really do not know the gods that well. And this arc provides us with another shade of not getting to know them : through the glasses of historians, sociologists, scientists and theologians. The gods are never really just themselves. Never free of scope.

 And it seems like Wicdiv has mined this topic before, doesn’t it ? Yes, despite having Baphomet on the cover, if this issue has one figurehead, it’s none other than Tara. Tara was crushed by the impossibility to reconcile her self with the layers upon layers of significance that were thrown on her. She made clear in her letter that this crucible doesn’t start at godhood. Existing as a young woman of colour is a political act. You can never be free of the meaning that will be forced on who you are : it is impossible to dissociate yourself from the political signification of yourself, even when you try to create a public persona that will carry these layers for you.

This theme comes back in full force in this issue, as Cass helpfully spells out its subtext : the personal IS the political. Everything the gods do bathes in our political and sociological understanding of it.

When Baal, a young black man from suburban London, says he belongs in the House of Lords, it’s political. When Cass, a trans woman, is having fun in public, it’s political. When Woden uses a sex worker to symbolically assert his power over a woman he fears, it’s political as fuck.

The gods have no control over this double layer : this is something that is imposed on them, no matter how much they’re willing to accept it. Minerva cannot fall apart because if so she’ll just be “another teenage cautionary tale”, and indeed, before she even said it there were speculations on whether or not she’d follow the classic implosion road of the child star. Even when the gods refuse to see anything political in what they are, the audience will be there to imbue that meaning in them. Sakhmet’s quest for emotional impenetrability is something we immediately link to her being a probable abuse victim, despite her never even mentioning that fact. They are never just a teenager off the rails or a woman who has survived abuse, they have to be the flagship of their demographic.

 As public figures, the gods are especially vulnerable to this dispossession of their individuality. Exposition allows you to confound your own psychological needs and issues with actual politics. The gods are lost in the blurred lines between a personal research and a political statement. Baal takes a national security issue and makes it about whether he can maintain control, linking it to his personal insecurities. Reciprocally, Amaterasu takes her mysticism and egomania and turns it into a religion.

 But at its core, Wicdiv is more about youth than it is about celebrity. As stars, the gods can put a political meaning forward, but as youngsters they cannot push it out of their lives. This is after all the one constant characteristic of the reincarnations : they are young. I’m 23, which would make me one of the older gods in wicdiv ; but even so, this issue aligns perfectly with how I see my demographic treated in society at large. Young people are the single most objectified and objectifiable age segment : from denigrating articles about millennials, to politicians “catering” to us in the most improbable way, we are simultaneously a curious beast that needs to be seized up and a formless plague on society’s values. In a world that doesn’t belong to us yet, everymen and scholars alike are trying to appraise us using a language that wasn’t conceived to fit all of us. The language of oppressors. So we’re being chopped up in representative samples, aligned in databanks, made into statistics. It’s normal to talk of the young as a unified group because the world doesn’t know who we are outside of the political meaning it has stamped on us. We are young, and we are never just ourselves. And this can be draining. I’ve never seen anyone over 30 as hyperaware of how they make “their generation” look as any young person. Never seen any of them as self-conscious when it comes to talking about ourselves, how we can shape the future of language. I believe that there hasn’t been a single time in History in which young people weren’t the most political group of a given society. Being political is not, at first, a choice ; it’s something that has been done to us.

 Regarding this, just how special really are the gods ? Them too, them especially, carry at all times the burden of being simultaneously more and less than themselves. More because they cannot exist out of the political understanding of themselves ; less precisely because of that. They are part of a cycle : emerge, burn out, leave the world. A new generation emerges, at the same time completely cut out from the previous one and yet repeating without knowing it the same pattern. The gods are youth personified. In the last pages, David Blake’s speech is mirrored panel by panel to the gods going awry. What can they do, with all their might, to prove this mere human wrong ? Even if they turn out different, outliers, nothing more. Chosen ones, in a long line of chosen ones, a centre page and a footnote, exceptional and yet so, so banal. The gods have never looked more like icons than in these last pages : Batman and Robin in the storm, two lurking shadows, a sacrificial victim, a human sun over her temple – or is it just an illuminated statue ?

Case studies, all of them. David Blake holds the theory. He holds the meaning, he holds the power. And we, as an audience, can only go as far as he can see. Just like him, we are not trapped on the stage ; when the show is over, we’ll pack up and go home. We’ll blog about it and post pictures, until we get tired of it. Those of us who haven’t already will say goodbye to their youth, and will look with various degrees of understanding at the new generation, wondering just how much and how little has changed.

The gods of Wicdiv will never get to grow up. This power will never be theirs. Loved, hated, brilliant. For others to see.

  WHAT I THOUGHT OF THE ISSUE :

 Holy shit, you guys.

 Well if anything, after this people should stop complaining that I’m being too negative for a while.

 Because holy shit, you guys.

 I feel like those of you who’ve been reading me for a while know me enough to guess I loved this issue. And you’d be about as right as the word love can describe how much I adored this. My feeling might of course change, but as of right now there is no question for me that this is the best thing Wicdiv has ever done. It’s notoriously hard for me to connect with something on a pure emotional level, and while it does come handy to lay out themes and ideas, I always feel like I’m missing something by never being able to just be taken aback by a work of art and not know what to say. The last time it happened to me was when I went to see Mad Max : Fury Road and there was just so much beauty on the screen it sent my brain in overdrive and I wasn’t able to think again until we got out of the theatre. And this is what happened here. The thoughts I laid out above didn’t occur to me until this morning ; from Wednesday to Saturday, all I was able to do was pick up the issue and read it again with my mind completely blank.  Congratulations, Wicdiv team : you made something so good it finally got me to shut up about it.

 If I am to analyse, I think a good part of my appreciation comes from how little I expected this issue to turn out as it did. From the previous ones, there was no indication that Imperial Phase (part I) was going to be anything more than enjoyable and slightly more conceptual than the arcs before, which after the way-too-conventional-for-my-taste Rising Action felt a bit underwhelming. And if this issue has one flaw, it’s that it’s so good it makes me a bit harsher on the previous issues : #25 and #26 were perfect for what they were, but still a means to an end, and #24 almost feels like a throwaway prologue than could have been dealt with in a couple of pages. I’ve heard somewhere that a good song can make an album, but a great one can kill it. And yes, I’m a bit afraid for the structural integrity of Imperial Phase, but I’ll pass my judgment after the arc is good and done.

But despite my surprise, I think deep down this is the issue I’d been waiting for Wicdiv to make : something as offbeat, subtly sinister and anxiety-provoking as it had the potential of being despite always presenting as too “normal” for its own premise. More than the weird, I’m a lover of the uncanny, in the Freudian sense of the word ; the “disturbing strangeness”, as we say in French. Nothing in this issue is outwardly, consciously weird, yet everything feels slightly wrong, slightly worrisome, like the dark space between the neon lines linking the panels, a record that isn’t really broken but always seems to drag a little, in a way you can’t quite place. This issue caters to my tastes so much I imagine others are going to have a hard time getting behind it. The only thing that could make me love this more than I do is if they’d found a way to cram a Dodo bird in there somehow. I love Dodo birds.

 But yes, this is Wicdiv as I wish it always was : slick and messy, grim and bright, cynical and sincere, direct and twisted. Cracks on the marble columns. A dissonant symphony. Madness is looming, but it’s not quite there yet, just something in the air. Who knows what will happen in next issue. Who knows what happens on the first of May. Wicdiv has always thrived in this chiaroscuro, between the lights of the Shard and the shadows of Valhalla. But even if Wicdiv never goes down this rabbit hole again, I’ll always be grateful for this issue, as I am for everything that knocks me off my feet and reminds me just what you can do with Art. Sex and drugs and rock n’roll. Very good indeed.

[winchester-in-a-tardis]

In transit

So I guess it’s time to get into the personal shit. Air the dirty laundry. Put it all out on front street.

My name is Mandy. 30 year old from Erie, Pennsylvania. I have a wife. And a husband. Sort of.

My wife will, very soon hopefully, become my husband.

I met Cassie on November 29th, 2014. We met the way most 20-somethings meet these days-on social media.

We clicked instantly. It was fire the first time she held my hand, the first time we kissed. We bared our souls to each other those first few weeks. Things moved fast.

I mean FAST. Within four months we were living together. Another five months after that, we got married.

We’ve had our struggles, just like any couple. We have good days, we have bad days. We love each other, in spite of and because of, all of our issues.

We’ve got lots of them! Individually, I’ve suffered with depression, anxiety, and addiction issues for most of my life. She has borderline personality disorder. It’s a struggle sometimes to get our very different kinds of crazy to work together. But we make it happen.

When we fight it’s sort of an immovable object/unstoppable force type of thing. It’s hard for us to do the “agree to disagree” thing. We fight tooth and nail for what we believe in.

But above all else, we believe in each other. We fight for each other even harder than we fight with each other. That’s what love is all about.

Cassie came out to me as trans shortly after I moved in with her. As a bisexual cis female, it didn’t make a bit of difference to me. She called me a weirdo because of my lack of reaction to her confession. It strengthened us, without a doubt.

At first, she said transitioning would never be a thing she would pursue. She wanted me to know this thing about her, and then she wanted to forget about it. It wasn’t something she liked to talk about or dwell on. The people she dated before me were not kind about it.

I respected her wishes. But I needed to make it clear to her that I did not look at her negatively because of it, and if she ever wanted to talk about it I would be open minded and supportive. I loved her and I would be there for her in whatever ways she needed me to be.

She opened up slowly, over time. She would mention it here and there, sometimes looking up information on the internet and sharing it with me.

I think it just took her awhile to realize that I really didn’t think less of her because of this. Like I said, her last 2 relationships before me had some issues after she came out to them.

One day, sitting in the parking lot at Walmart, she told me that she had been considering the option of transitioning. Top surgery only, just enough to pass. She said it was my support that made her even consider this as a possibility. That meant so much to me!

She said that just being able to pass would mean so much to her.

Over the next few months we talked about her changing her style. Clothes, haircuts, names. She wasn’t ready to act on it yet, but she wanted to explore her options.

We did lots of research. Hormones, surgeries, social networks, we did a lot of exploring on the internet. Cass decided that she did want to fully transition, and she wanted to work on coming out to the people in our lives. We spent the next year working on that. My mom was the first one we told. She said she would be supportive. That ended up being debatable. She was friendly enough about it at first, to our faces at least. I’ll get into that drama another time.

Cassie’s sister was next. She made a comment that was along the lines of “Is this something you googled yesterday and just decided you wanted to do?”

That got under Cassie’s skin. I remember on the way home Cassie saying, “Yeah like I just watched a couple YouTube videos and decided genital mutilation would be a fun hobby!”

But she wasn’t judgmental. Nothing changed, really. She’s not closed minded about things like this, she just has anxiety issues which make it difficult for her to deal with things that put her out of her comfort zone.

Cass even came out to her boss at the job she was working at the time. She was doing security at the local casino. They were supportive beyond our expectations.

Cassie’s mom was the last person we told, almost a full year after she started the coming out process. She was so amazingly supportive and accepting. Her only concern was that it would be hard to adjust to using a new name and male pronouns. Cassie laughed. That didn’t bother her. “You’re the one who will look crazy,” she said, “calling me ‘baby girl’ when my tits are gone and I have a full beard!” We all laughed.

Caden is the name Cassie decided on, Caden Banner. Banner was my idea. I call her Hulk sometimes because she likes to smash things when she loses her temper. It suits her.

She’s still using Cassie and female pronouns, for now. She said she’s not comfortable using male identifiers until she looks the part.

She’s cut her hair short and changed her style. She likes cargo pants with nice long-sleeved tees. I love her new style. Mostly, I love how she lights up when she looks in the mirror and actually likes what she sees now.

Our last obstacle is getting her health insurance and a phych doctor who will approve hormones for her. The process is slower than we want it to be and that’s frustrating for us. But we’re working on it. I just got the full time promotion at my job which will help us a lot with saving money.

We’re in a lot of debt. A lot. Credit cards, mostly. We dug ourselves in a pretty deep hole. On top of that, we both have student loans, we’ve got personal loans, we’re paying off the car and trying to get into a bigger apartment. We’re struggling. But we’re not defeated!

We’re just kind of stuck in the middle of where we started and where we want to be. That’s why I called this blog “In Transit.” The end is in sight! We’re not quite there yet, but we’re on our way, and I couldn’t ask for a better traveling companion.