#so glad the whole ‘I was never good at being a (gender assigned at birth)’ ‘I always knew from a young age’ narrative helps people but like

[willgrahamismybabygirl]

Vent post lol

Fighting for my life out here

(Afraid everyone who loves me will not care about me anymore once I transition, I’ll go from relatively pretty girl to ugly freak, I have no idea how to be future me)

[waitineedaname]

Teru and Shigeo were not studying much during their study date. They probably should be studying. High school math was a nightmare that Shigeo could not have been less prepared for, and he knew Teru’s history scores could use some work. In their defense, they had started out their study date with actual studying. Shigeo managed to graph a whole page of rational functions, and Teru had made a stack of flashcards for at least half a chapter of notes. But then Teru had insisted on showing Shigeo a cat video on Instagram as a break, and then one cat video turned into ten, and then somehow they’d ended up where they were now, which was horizontal on the couch, Teru’s head pillowed on Shigeo’s chest. Teru was scrolling through memes, occasionally tilting the screen to show Shigeo particularly good ones, and Shigeo was playing with Teru’s hair, perfectly content. 

He was very easily distracted by Teru’s hair. It was just so soft between his fingers; Teru obviously took great care to make sure bleaching it didn’t do too much damage. Speaking of, dark roots were beginning to peek through on Teru’s scalp. Shigeo wondered if he’d be called over to assist with bleaching it again, or maybe Teru would go to a salon and ask a professional to do it. It was getting long these days, and Shigeo certainly couldn’t be trusted to do a good job trimming it. Privately, he hoped Teru wouldn’t cut it. Teru looked so nice with longer hair, and cutting it short would mean Shigeo could play with it less. 

Shigeo had gotten so distracted thinking about Teru’s hair that he hadn’t noticed that Teru had gone very quiet and very still, and had been for a while now. The phone screen was dark in Teru’s hand. “Teruki?” Shigeo asked, voice soft. He tucked a piece of hair back from Teru’s eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Hm? Oh, I’m fine.” Teru sighed and burrowed further into Shigeo’s chest. “Just thinking about something.” Shigeo hummed softly and didn’t press it. He understood the need to think things through silently before putting them into words. He continued to brush his fingers through Teru’s hair, and after a few minutes, his patience paid off. “Shigeo…” Teru broke the silence, sounding oddly nervous. “Would you… still like me if I was a girl?”

Shigeo blinked. That was an odd question, but not one he had to think about for very long. “I have plenty of friends who are girls. Of course I would still like you. It wouldn’t change anything.”

“Good, because,” Teru took a deep breath, “I am one.”

“You are?” Shigeo was surprised, then a little confused. “But… I’ve seen you without your clothes…”

Teru barked a laugh and then groaned into Shigeo’s chest, as if trying to hide in the folds of Shigeo’s sweater. “God, don’t remind me… No, Shigeo, what I’m trying to tell you is-” Teru gave up on hiding and sat up, looking Shigeo in the eyes for the first time in a while, “I’m transgender.” Shigeo stared blankly. “You don’t know what that is, do you,” Teru said after a few moments of silence. Shigeo shook his head. “Okay. Well, it means identifying as a different gender than the one you were assigned at birth.”

“Oh. Oh!” Shigeo appreciated how patient Teru always was when explaining things to him. This conversation made much more sense now. “Okay. So you’re a girl?”

Teru went a little pink but nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Being a boy never felt quite right. It felt like a role I was performing, and it wasn’t a performance I particularly enjoyed. So I tried thinking of myself as a girl, and…” Teru huffed a soft, embarrassed laugh, “It felt really nice.”

“I’m glad. You deserve to feel nice, Teruki.” Shigeo paused, a thought occurring to him. “Ah. Should I still call you Teruki? And should I use ‘she’ for you, since you’re a girl?”

“That would be really nice.” A pleased little smile pulled at Teru’s lips. “As for the name, I haven’t thought of something new yet. I would prefer Teru over Teruki, though. Since it's more neutral.”

“Okay, Teru,” Shigeo said, just to say it out loud. He tucked some hair behind Teru’s ear, and she smiled, turning her face into his palm then laying back down to tuck her face into Shigeo’s neck. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Thank you for taking it so well!” Teru’s hair brushed against Shigeo’s neck in a way that made him feel slightly ticklish, but he didn’t have the heart to push her away. “I shouldn’t have doubted you, of course. You’ve always been so understanding.”

Shigeo flushed slightly at the praise. “I’ve never thought much about gender,” he said, combing his fingers through Teru’s hair again. “Everyone said I was a boy, so I assumed that just must be true.”

“You don’t have to be a boy if you don’t want to be,” Teru said, tilting her head into Shigeo’s touch. “You could be a girl if that feels right. Or both, or nothing at all. The options are limitless, really.” Shigeo’s hand stilled, and Teru noticed after a few seconds, popping her head up to look at his face. “Shigeo?”

“Um.” Shigeo had gone rather pink. The slightest bit of curious introspection made him realize he might need to do a lot more introspection, preferably when he could self-reflect in private. “Can we talk about that later?”

Teru, of course, understood what he meant. She just laughed and leaned up to kiss his nose. “Okay. I’ll be here when you want to talk about it.” She sat up in a rush as something occurred to her, a big smile on her face. “Oh! Do you want to see the skirts I bought?”

“Yes!” Shigeo nodded quickly, grateful for the change in subject and excited as always to see Teru’s impromptu fashion shows.

They might fail the tests they had intended to study for, but Shigeo decided it was worth it to see Teru smiling and laughing as she twirled in her most sparkly skirt, happy as can be.

[lilycelebi-side-blog]

Long post time, sadly. I hate that I'm actually talking about my life on social media, but I started this (zero clue why), and I was a fool for doing so....

This was your post, and I did commit the crime of commenting on it. I should've minded my own business as usual, engaging with things I like and chilling. I apologize.

Also, I should preface this by saying this post just expresses disagreement with a viewpoint, and I have no intentions of disrespecting you as a human being.

...here goes:

--

I wasn't saying "I wish you never found this community :(" -- I was saying I hate to see that you were traumatized by transitioning, and I am sorry you were. No one should have to go through that experience.

It is great that you found sisterhood and fellowship eventually. I love seeing healing and growth. Hardships, as horrible as they can get, breed opportunities for us to grow as people, and I'm glad you feel you have grown and are continuing to heal.

But, I also feel terrible for the fact that it turned you against the entire process/practice of transition for others just because it didn't work for you. I disagree with that mentality.

--

And... yes, gender critical for you apparently does mean anti-trans, given you literally just said I was in fact not the thing I am, and I am "playing make-believe." That's anti-me-being-trans. That's anti-my-identity-and-presentation.

One can criticize things without being anti-them-in-entirety, but this is not the impression I receive.

Both the federal and state government (in my state) recognize me as a man. My coworkers, friends, and family recognize me as a man. I look like, act as, and mentally just am a man.

I have nearly fully transitioned (3 years in), and my medical care is not being interrupted, either -- I am a man with an assigned-female-at-birth body. I've settled with that, and I do not deny my biology. (That's the whole point of the "trans man" label, versus a cis man.)

A "man" is a social role, not a genital or secondary sex characteristic alone. Just as a "woman" is -- many things make up the definition for a "woman." Society (many times stupidly and arbitrarily) lays out what men are supposed to look like and be and what women are supposed to look like and be. I feel most comfortable in my skin and in all spheres of life being a man.

So, no. This is not playing make-believe. It is playing the role I feel most natural playing, rather than a role I was forced to play by society -- much like yourself. It is playing the role my brain naturally gravitated toward, then supporting it by transforming other facets of my person as needed (notably, the name, pronouns, certain parts of the body, and wardrobe).

Thank goodness I had the option of social and medical transition, though, for my individual flavor of grueling self-discovery. It has saved my life.

--

I am not anti-you-being-a-detransitioner. I said your experiences as a nonconforming woman were valid. What I said was I wish the trauma didn't turn you toward radfem/TERF/gender-critical territory.

Trans rights (access to "trans" healthcare, more research on the nuances of gender identity, etc.) would actually aid detransitioners and others who are nonconforming but not trans. Trans rights help deconstruct the most harmful parts of a binary system that excludes and marginalizes other genderqueer people, intersex people, and nonconforming cisgender people -- not just transgender people.

This world needs more voices in general to speak up and report their experiences without it blocking access for others and disrespecting the validity of others' experiences.

--

tl;dr: Gender nonconforming cis women are valid. Trans people are valid. Both groups can be valid and coexist in this world is all I was saying.

I relate to the post and felt a lot of similar things to you, but a different path was right for me than it was for you, and I wish anti-trans was not your resolve now. I am not anti-detransitioner or anti-woman by any means.

--

[Content warning for some serious trauma stuff below, in relation to yours. May be triggering -- reader discretion advised.]

I also want to mention:

I was sexually harassed and assaulted repeatedly as a woman, I self-harmed, I attempted suicide, I starved myself (to the point of muscles cramping and possibly atrophying, hindering my ability to walk), I went through a period of bulimic behavior and multiple other periods of disordered eating, and I too went through a transformative low point where I nearly died from how much of a failure I felt like, then realized many things I was forced to acknowledge about myself. This all happened over the span of pre-teenhood into early adulthood.

I relate to your post, but just... ended up going down a different path. I respect the path of figuring out you were a woman, regardless of what society says about women, and beginning to love fellow women as well. I am glad this saved your life as transition has saved mine.

dysphoria and desisting

After reading accounts from a number of dysphoric women (some desisted/detrans, others still deeply entranched in gender ideology), I’ve decided to reflect upon my own experience. It’s a bit long and not very well articulated, as I’m not that eloquent in English, so please bear with me.

Afficher davantage

[inosukeslefttoe]

SO i just finished wonder egg priority and i think that with confidence i can say it has been one of my favorite animes like... ever ?? and not even from hyperfixation or obsession over it just... its so fucking real yet so simple in a way that i havent rlly seen shown in any other shows you feel ??

but first i wanna talk about how sexy the art and animation is real quick... HOMIE ITS SO GOOD LIKE EVERYTHING ABOUT IT JUST... serotonin... the characters are all so unique and iconic and fun but not over the top in their designs yknow ??? they seem like regular every day girls but they stand out and theyre all sO CUTE !!!! also i love how the style is like this soft bubbly slice of life lookin stuff with bright happy colors and the most beautiful scenes you could find but they also have the SICKEST fight scenes complete with whimsical animal helpers and terrifying villains and crazy weapons unique to each character. and the animation. god DAMN shawty i am obsessed with everything in this show. i might make a post solely about the art later lol bc i wanna get into the other stuff.

so the themes in the show right ?? it starts just as this cute lil magical girl kinda deal but within the first episode we see that like.. oh damn... thats kinda heavy... tbh i was a little shocked and thought about stopping bc yknow bad mental health BUT i was so intrigued that i had to keep going and i am SO GLAD that i did. because this show just so beautifully discusses all these heavy topics in such an eloquent and artistically expressive way. and also like, , the juxtaposition of the charming childlike vibe with bright colors and 14 yr old girl protagonists against the dark themes of suicide and so much else,, i think is just perfect. bc a lot of heavy animes are more of the seinen genre and have some middle aged dude as a protag or make the entire color palette dim or offer little relief to the pain of these heavy themes right ?? but NO not wonder egg bitches B) because these problems arent just things that ppl face later in life or just problems that need to be talked about among adults or the edgy seinen watching squad,, these are REAL problems that face people of every age, gender etc and i think its awesome that wonder egg addresses that. some may cringe at the thought of their high schooler watching animes that discuss sexual harassment, suicide, abuse, self harm, eating disorders etc,, but in reality it is the most comforting thing i have ever come across and is basically jsut free anime therapy. because not only does wonder egg present these themes to the viewers as something real that happens to all kinds of people (making said people feel heard in a way that maybe they hadnt before), but it also makes sure to vanquish all of these forms of trauma. and the way the trauma is vanquished isnt always beautiful and it isnt always just magically gone with a poof. the struggles of overcoming or living with that sort of thing are shown in such a real and relatable way that addresses every hardship trauma survivors have to go through. and i just. god i cry bro. 

oh m y GOD and the lgbtq+ rep in this show ?? like shawty... as soon as i saw episode one i was picking up on some gay/lesbian themes but then again im sapphic and project that a lot so i tend to see that sort of stuff like... everywhere... but NE WAYS... episode ten made me FUKCING CRY BRO LIke i cant believe there was a whole trans character with a whole trans pride hoodie like LKGHKDGH my heart is just so.. so fucking full thinking about him. bc like yeah i know there are trans characters in anime but i feel like theyre always very ambiguous about actually being trans or not or erased or portrayed as a harmful stereotype or theyre constantly misgendered and still refered to as their assigned gender at birth and i hate it. HOWEVEr... Kaoru.. *chefs kiss* it was so amazing to see a character straight up say “yeah im trans” in such a casual yet powerful way bc i personally have never seen that before. and i love love loved how he went into his backstory and talked to momoe about gender bc i think thats what she rlly needed and that it helped her find herself and it makes me so happy oh my god,, and the way they talked about it never seemed forced or like it was the focal point of his existence yknow ?? like yeah he existed to help momoe overcome some of her trauma but he also just existed to be HIM yknow ?? also... personally, i headcanon momoe as a trans girl even though i dont remember it being explicitly stated plus the school scenes of her and stuff would seem like they suggest otherwise ??but,,, SHAWTY THE AMOUNT OF SUBTEXT and her complicated relationship w gender is... something i feel like a cis girl would not go through so harshly yknow ?? with all of the questioning and feeling detached from femininity or feeling like ppl dont see her as an actual girl and only like her as a guy or for her masculine traits,,, but dont take my word on this bc i myself am a cis girl but that was just my take on it as someone in the lgbtq+ community trying to educate myself on the transgender community :) either way,, wonder eggs portrayal of momoe and kaoru and the way that momoe becomes so passionate about expressing herself the way she wants to as a girl is just... good lord im gonna cry its so perfect,,,.so ... i just love this show way too much. i also am honestly super lost about the relationship btwn acca and ura-acca ?? bc i was gonna mention ura-acca as a canonically gay guy bc when i was watching i interpreted ep 11 as him being in love with acca and being jealous of Azusa (bc i mean,, they lived together (i swear to god there was only one bed in that apartment) and had a daughter together and def loved each other and also when Frill said they were husbands and then when ura-acca said he wasnt attracted to azusa but he was def jealous of their relationship ??) but then i saw somewhere that theyre brothers ?? which would make sense ig since they look kinda similar and accas daughter called ura-acca “uncle”.. but at the same time its ANIME SO THEY ALL LOOK SIMILAR and referring to gay couples as siblings is an EXTREMELY common euphemism soooo... IM JUST LOST HERE... but yeah i tried doing research and found different things so i cant say anything for sure >:( however,,, if they are canonically a lil fruity for each other... when frill refered to acca as ura-accas husband i imploded dude you never hear that sort of wording in anime.. but if theyre related i am so sorry. 

god this is so much longer than i planned it to be oops but i also love the theme about like.. relying on friends to help carry your weight but at the same time not becoming completely dependent on those friends and using their support to learn how to love yourself and rely on yourself yknow ?? bc that is exactly what healthy friendships look like. bc i think ai sort of had a codependency thing goin on with koito maybe ?? but now she has a whole squad of funky friends that are so so different but all struggle with different kinds of trauma and although they fight over it, they always get through it with each other together. and they push each other no matter what to be the best versions of themselves and they teach other that getting hurt is okay because theyre always gonna be there to pick up the pieces no matter what happens. they can give each other space when they need and adapt to meet each others needs but theyre always able to balance it out with their own needs and thats such a beautiful thing in friendships especially at their age like damn i wish i had that maturity when i was 14 but no all i had was depression. another thing is that through these friendships you get to see all the different sides of each girl; you get to see them being strong or a shining light to their friends when theyre hurting but you also get to see them being hurt and weak and allowing themselves to be on the receiving end of the comfort. their friendships allows them to have weaknesses but it also allows them to highlight their strengths and thrive off of each others. I LOVE FRIENDSHIP DUDE

next i wanna briefly mention some of the themes connected to suicide that ive noticed. a big one is the survivors guilt that ai feels once koito is dead. several times she screams that she wishes she couldve gone with koito and she dreams of a “perfect world” where they committed a double suicide. one of the main reasons for her troubles is that she blames herself for koitos death and feels like it should be her thats dead... but at the same time she feels like too much of a coward to do anything now that koito is gone. she just has all these complex and contradicting feelings that wear away at her in ways that ppl that havent gone through the suicide of a loved one could never imagine. a lot of the times when things like this are portrayed in media i feel like its more in a way thats meant to guilt trip those that have taken their own lives and paint suicide as this selfish sin thats unforgivable but... not only does wonder egg reject that idea and instead portray it as a heartbreaking tragedy with,,, so so many terrible reasons, but it focuses on the feelings of ai separate from koito without blaming her in any way. not once did i feel like the show antagonized koito or that ai blamed koito for doing any of this, but they simply mourned her loss and touched on ais reaction towards the event but separate from koito herself if that makes sense. and i think that discussing survivors guilt without painting koito as the bad guy is something so beautifully done in wonder egg that can really resonate with those that have lost a loved one to suicide and have struggled with these same things.

okay i think this is the last thing ill mention,,, but HOMIE THE PARALLEL UNIVERSE BIT AT THE END. I AM. OBSESSED. i am such a whore for anything about the multiverse okay n e ways...,, not only did this make a super epic trippy ending of season one and add a little bit more magical girl whimsy to the show,, but it had such a powerful message. from the perspective of og ai,, finding out that you killed yourself in another world is... i mean its definitely not a surprise but at the same time it rlly makes you think how close og ai herself couldve been to that point and what decisions led her out of that dark place in her life. if i were in her shoes i would be terrified and id cry bc the thought of going back to such a dark place and actually going through with something like that is my worst fear and probably something that ai fears too. but at the same time,,, think from the perspective of ai two !!! like yeah its true that theres this awful terrible version of ai that dies but theres also a whole version of ai that is a superhero magical girl fighting off monsters to save countless ppls lives !! and she has a badass lizard and a gang of awesome friends !!! at first i was worried that ai two would be jealous of og ai and compare herself to her and feel inferior but like.. THEYRE LITERALLY THE SAME PERSON AND CAPABLE OF THE SAME THINGS !!! and ai two realized that !! just within the span of one episode, she went from the version of ai who took her life,, to the version of ai jumping in front of a friend to take a bullet for them and save their life. and that just inspired THE SHIT OUT OF ME. i think that ai was sent another version of herself to sort of beat her own worst enemy yknow ?? those doubts and fears that shes no good or that shes that same bystander from episode one and that she hasnt changed at all. but getting to interact with her parallel self and see her grow was just what she needed to realize that while yeah sometimes the worst thing can happen and things can be terrible but on the other hand sometimes the most wonderful thing imaginable can happen because she has the power to do either. 

so im gonna go ahead and stop rambling bc i got all my thoughts out that i wanted to for this post :D but yeah lol i might make another if i feel like it sometime. long story short: this show is perfect and it is going on my favorite of all times.

[themollyjay]

Writing Without Gender

When I sat down and started developing the concept that would eventually become my novel Mail Order Bride, one of the decisions I made early on in the process was that I wanted the aliens to have a genderless society.

I didn’t want them to be a hermaphroditic species, or a species where same gender marriage was considered perfectly equal to opposite gender marriage.  Rather, I specifically wanted a sexually dimorphic species, that is, a species which had male and female people, but which lacked any social distinction between them.

Once I had that idea firmly set in my head, I had to sit down and think about what would allow such a society to develop.

One of the first things that came to mind was to decouple reproduction for anatomy, so I postulated a society where reproduction was a technological process.  Both prospective parents give a genetic sample, but the actual gene mixing, gestation and birth occur within the confines of an artificial womb.

The next thing that came to mind was language.  I postulated a completely gender neutral language.  Of course, I couldn’t write the novel in this language because one, the language didn’t exist, and two, even if I created the language, no one would be able to read it.  So, it presented a challenge.

In order to properly represent this language, I had to write all the dialog that occurred in the alien language without gender.  Also, when I was writing from the POV of my alien characters, they had to *think* in genderless language.  There were a few obstacles that were fairly easy to overcome.  It didn’t take very long to decide that ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ would be replaced with ‘parent’, that ‘grandmother’ and ‘grandfather’ would become ‘grandparent’ and that ‘son’ and ‘daughter’ would become ‘child’.  Easy enough.  After that, I looked up genderless neologisms for Aunt/Uncle, and Niece/Nephew.

What was much, much harder then making those choices and looking up a few new words was getting in the habit of writing without gender.  Gender is so embedded in the way I think that I found myself automatically assigning genders to characters, and having to fight myself to make sure I didn’t let that color the way I wrote those characters.  Writing with they/them pronouns was an especially hard habit to get into.

I messed up.  A lot.  A whole lot.  I had to do an entire editorial pass that was just going in and removing incorrect pronouns.  Then I got three different proofreaders to go in and get the ones I missed.  It was a TON of work.  SO much work, and a lot of frustration, because I have spent my whole life being socialized in a way where gender was a huge part of the way I thought about people.  I also messed up when talking about the book to other people, and had to be corrected by people who were more familiar with Non-binary and agender culture than I am.

But I will never forget the first time someone started talking about a particular character, and they described how they pictured them, and something absolutely magical happened.  When I was writing, I had a very clear vision in my head of this particular character and what they looked like, and the alpha reader explained how they pictured them, and used an actor of a different gender to describe how they pictured the character.

I was stunned, and excited, and relieved, because it was the first clear sign to me that what I was doing was actually working.  That I hadn’t unconsciously pressed a gender onto this character who I never identify as male or female in the text of the novel.

I’m not going to try to pretend that Mail Order Bride is a perfect representation of a genderless society and genderless characters.  But it is as good as I could make it with the help of a pack of alpha readers, and it will hopefully get better once the Developmental Editor/Sensitivity reader is done with it.

What I will say is that working on Mail Order Bride, and doing my best to write these characters as authentically as possible, has been an incredible experience, and I am very, very glad I made the decision I did.  Its helped me learn and helped me grow, and I hope its made me a better person.

[jay-kwellyn]

Hi Jackie! I'm so glad that I came across your blog recently! You're such a lovely person, inside and out, and I've been really enjoying your music! I don't know if you've answered this question before or if you're comfortable answering, but I was wondering: when and how did you realize that you were trans? I've heard quite a few trans people say that they "always knew," but I'm 22 and have only just recently started to question my gender. What was your experience like?

Thank you and dope question! I’ve actually been getting this question a good bit in my dms so If you don’t mind I’ll slightly edit my message to one of those dm’s.

The first clues that I had that I noticed were in high school. I was a super fit dude who thought his whole goal was to get super fit and have all the girls love him (yuck!). After I got fit I started to realize that I still hated seeing myself in the mirror and I never really understood why.

After a short stint working normal jobs I started doing circus which put me around a lot more ppl who thought outside the little boxes society tries to force us into (which honestly just means they did drugs 🤷🏾‍♀️) and I started having conversations I never knew the words for. I realized that I was actually just jealous of all the women I was attracted too. I realized I was jealous of things like them getting to be small or having hips and stuff. Things I couldn’t hope to have as an amab (assigned male at birth) person. I remember drunkenly telling my female training partners that I wish we could swap bodies and then crying about the fact that we couldn’t.

It all came to a head when I did a circus show that was about gender. Over the course of seven acts we told stories from the perspectives of 5 different gender identities. Cis male, cis female, non-binary, trans man, and trans woman. During the rehearsals for this show I got to hear tons of recordings of different people talking about their experiences with gender expression and how society treats you when you don’t fit in to a “perfect” little box. The stories that stuck with me the most were the stories of trans women. I won’t go too deep into those because honestly there’s a lot of trauma there and I don’t wanna start crying at 3 in the morning. But one major thing that was said was that the average life expectancy of a trans woman is 35. When I started to figure I might be trans, it was the first time I ever thought that I wanted to live past that (here come the tears anyway 😭😭😭) It changed my life.

During that show I decided on a new name. I came out to my mom. And then one day I decided that it was time to live as me and I didn’t care what anyone thought so I changed my name and posted it on Facebook. I was lucky enough to get an overwhelming amouny of support. Some backlash of course but the support outweighed the stupid things. I’ve been on hormone replacement therapy for ten months now. I’m starting to see myself In the mirror and I’m taking it day by day.

Everyone’s stories are different. But they all begin with a question. You’re already so far ahead for asking that question in the first place. The next step is to explore different gender expressions. Being yourself is something you have to work towards but damn it’s worth it. If people ever have questions about stuff like this feel free to ask! I’ll do my best to answer or I’ll try to find someone with more knowledge who can. Thank you all so much 💜💜💜

[urlocalbunny]

DISCLAIMER AND EDIT: I posted this before, I know, I know lmao but I didn't mean to lol. I just got out of the house meaning to proofread my requests and my other prompts and when I came back, it was to the notes and someone sent a lovely message explaining to me that I shouldn't use the term transexual and I was confused to why they'd tell me that when I knew it was transgender, then I realized the hc was posted and my autocorrector corrected it TWICE. On Raphael and Vlad if I'm correct. Please don't use that term, it's not right and I just left it so I could proofread and replace it. lol I'm really sorry if you thought I was dumb (esp the cutie who warned me, thank yooooo!) But I assure you I'm not and I know. I took the words off my keyboard right now ;(.

Hello, anonie! I'm so glad you entrusted me with this request and please, feel free to request anything else if you want, I'd like to hear you feel comfortable reading my hcs!

I know many trans people have many different things they like or don't like while they change like clothing, pronouns, the way people behave around them and so on, so I tried to put different situations, some casual, some dramatic (Beliath cofcof). Hope you enjoy it, I'm nervous :( I also didn't state you were dating, just maybe starting something because I'm not sure if all the readers would commit to a relationship without telling their partner they're trans first!

Aaron:

Aaron has a great snout. His guts were also very good indicators, but he couldn't quite decipher why you seemed so down. Of course, there are many things happening to you that shouldn't, but your sadness seemed focused on something else.

You did mind your condition tied to him, but something else made being a chalice pale in comparison. He noticed that you didn't like when people talked about some topics with you and you seemed very overwhelmed, so he tried to make people back off subtly. He was worried about you.

were you depressed? Are you sad because the house wasn't what you expected? Do you want them to leave this badly? Do you wish you chose somebody else? Little by little, he got more and more confused.

One day, he was sitting on the Parlor, wondering how he'd hide the mud stains on the floor. You walked closer and closer to him, he could feel the tingling. Your eyes, however, were shining with a little resentment and determination. You sat down and explained to him you didn't feel comfortable being addressed as the gender and name assigned to you at birth and asked if at least him from all people could treat you as who you actually were.

He blinked in shock after you said it in one go and panted, gears snapping on his head. The way you felt uncomfortable over the compliments in the party because they regarded your gender assigned at birth, how you furrowed your brows when they called your name, when he felt what was like to be you and suddenly, you felt like you weren't controlling your own life anymore.

He sniffed. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't notice." his arms tightened around you, lips kissing your temple and a hot tear sliding down his face. He could sometimes feel when you suffered quietly, and all he had to do was comprehend the signals, yet he failed you.

"The fact that I'll change doesn't matter to you?" "It does bother me that you're so surprised, and I don't know the name of the person I love, but if you tell me, we can kick it from there."

Your teary eyes and your happy nod made him give you a rare, genuine beam.

Raphael:

Raphael also could always sense your sadness and honestly, the first thing he thought was that he was the source, because every time you were with him, you felt gloomy and he could tell.

You never really felt comfortable when he called you Miss/Mister, and sometimes even your name felt bad to your ears and he knew it. He tried to talk to you then and ask you if you wanted him to call you something else, but your surprised reaction wasn't something he expected.

"What do you know?" "Apparently, nothing much, given that you seem like you're finding it hard to talk to me."

He got really sad but almost at the same time he regretted what he said. He felt like you'd think he was guilt tripping you. He tried to reach for you hand, but you beat him to it, sitting down and trying to find the words to say, but nothing came out but the raw truth.

"Raphael, I'm transgender."

He sputtered. "What do you mean? Hum-"

"I mean I don't identify myself with my gender assigned at birth."

"oh, that's what I was trying to recall." he got silent. Then he opened his mouth and closed it, "I do know you don't need my approval. But I want you to know I support you. I love you. My God, do you, perhaps, not like yourself?! Because if you don't, I-" his voice came out shocked in the last sentence, so you had to intervene before he got too aggravated.

"No, Raphael. That means I'll change and I didn't think- well, all of this would happen." He nodded.

"My chalice. I love you for who you are. Doesn't matter how much your appearance changes. You're already who you are in my eyes. I can do whatever you need."

You both smiled warmly at each other, hugging. This wasn't about acceptance or validation to you, but knowing you could finally come clean and stand your ground to the person you secretly liked was reassuring.

Beliath

Beliath always thought everything was breeze, flowers and champagne with your friends and a little more and bonded life to be honest. You were the apple of his eye, you were head over heels for him, what else there was to manage?

But things changed when Beliath tried to push you into a party attire, and you said- and he remembered well: "I don't like this types of clothes." When asked if you meant party attires and if you could elaborate so that Bel could bring you something of your liking, you really hesitated then said you'd figure something out, walking off with a mop on your step to the garden.

You were so excited to do the decor and bring the food in! What was the problem? He got nervous. Maybe he didn't actually know what you liked and that's why you felt so bad! He snapped his fingers after thinking with his one braincell. (Of course, I'm going to take a look at their clothes while they're not around!) (You're right, Beliath, you're a genius!)

Opening your wardrobe with the most dramatic arm swing he could manage without breaking the door, he furrowed his brows. They weren't exactly clothes a person of your gender normally would wear. He giggled, looking at your clothes with fondness and thinking to himself. "But they also don't like doing things their gender normally would, haha... They also seem to be annoyed when I use too much pronouns... They also hate being called a good girl/boy when I joke around after they did their share of the chores... Oh shit.

He crumpled your shirt on his hand, sitting on the bed like he has been thrown in it. His eyes zeroed on a tucked in cloth. A flag he'd seen before somewhere, then he remembered the meaning and sucked in a breath, realizing that you actually planned on starting fresh here. And maybe, just maybe, finding his friends and him here had been stopping you for some reason.

He didn't want to admit it, but even though there wasn't comparison, he felt pretty much like you did when he left his home. To start fresh. And he remembered the freedom, the hardships. This was your journey. He called you up. You ran through the stairs and found him sitting down, seemingly sad.

"Beliath?! What's... Oh. I- suppose we should talk."

You told him everything you wished to, he listened to you the whole time, a hand holding yours. He admired how much you didn't want to hide it and how strong and sure of yourself you looked. You didn't need his "yes", you just wanted his company. That was unimaginable for him.

"I'm going to treat you so right. I promise I'll be with you no matter what. You're so, so brave." He said, hands cradling your face. You giggled.

"So dramatic." "You know what's going to be dramatic? Your outfit! You didn't tell me you had these pants in here! Go put those on and come back!"

Vladimir:

It all began on the fateful night Vladimir decided to confess to you. He made it cute, tried to bring you to the garden and told you every single thing on you that made his heart swoon, but as soon as you said you loved him... You ran off. He didn't understand.

He didn't understand why you were so absent when he told you he loved you. You've been through so much together. You definitely said you loved him too, so what made you give up? Maybe he was too twisted for you. He decided to call you to apologise, but when you heard him, you scoffed.

"that's not the issue. I'm transgender. I don't know if you feel attraction towards my gender."

"I'm sorry, what?"

You proceeded to explain that you planned on transition and explained the hormones you had to take and your concerns about visiting a doctor now that your condition changed. He had a puzzled face this whole time, trying to understand why that stopped you both from dating.

"How does that change us? Do you... Do you not like men? If that's the case, I underst-" "No, you fool, I love you! I just didn't know if you're attracted to my gender."

"Oh." He leaned in, pressing a loving peck on your lips. "Is this enough for you?"

"Actually, maybe you'll have to do this again." He chuckled, kissing your whole face.

"Don't worry about a thing. I'm sure you're strong enough to keep going, and I'll be lenient to help. I love you."

Ethan:

The first time Ethan tried to talk to you about your weird behavior, it was because he was done. Sick and tired. He wanted to smooch you, and suddenly you were all grumpy. What was it? Didn't you like him? What the hell? >:(

You just avoided him. >:( What was it that you didn't want to say? >:( He got the angry trembling going on. One day, however, you said you wanted to talk and share something with him. There you were, sitting, looking (and smelling) good on the bench. >:( Now you want to be chatty, huh? He was going to give you a piece of his madly in love mind!

"Now you want to talk, is that it?" You blinked once. "That's why I called you. Sit here." "Why do you sound like a mom?" "Shut up." You said casually, lifting your legs and looking at your toenails. "Listen to me. I've been meaning to tell you this for a while now but I'm not sure we can continue kissing like that." His eyes widened.

"Dumbass, you said you like me!" He was livid. Oh, but if you love him, you were going to freaking marry date him, how can you love somebody and not want anything serious with them?

"You're the fool here!" You giggled, but made a serious face after. "I'm actually transgender, Ethan. And since I'm not sure about your sexuality or if you're attracted to my gender at all, I think we could use some clarification. That's all. Doesn't mean I don't like you anymore. I came here with the intention of going through transition right away but I died in the process."

"oh. That's fucked up." "That's all you have to say?" "That's all you had to say? That's good for you and you make me very proud, I love you and I'd never let you do this alone when I'm your partner, you should've told me as soon as we bound so I could treat you how you wanted, and all that jazz. Now let's please make out because I miss you."

"You said you loved me?!"

"Ew, get over yourself. Also, that surprised face of yours looks like a fish. That's weird."

Ivan:

As soon as you warmed up to him, he hung out on your room and you'd play with your gameboy. On his birthday, you bought him a smartphone to kick it up a notch and he wanted to use it right away, so you both decided to play a co-op game, each with their own phones. You chose the character with your gender and customized them to look like you, but Ivan frowned at that.

"This is going to be confusing when we get to public servers..."

"Nah, I want the character to have my gender and nothing is going to stop me," you joked, then sucked in a breath, giggling at your forgetfulness. "Fuck, I didn't tell you jackshit, did I"

"You're trans?" He squeaked out, jumping to stay on all fours, making the mattress jiggle.

"Well- ye-yes. I'm going through transition... Why? Do you have anything against this?"

"Don't be silly, of course not!" He pulled your hands to sit you up. "Why didn't you tell me we should be aware of your pronouns? What about your clothes? Do you like dressing like your actual gender or are you happy dressing as the one you were assigned to? And your hair? How are we going to style it?"

"We?" "We're friends, right? And um- a little more, but I'm going to support you through your transition! I think I- I stopped you from trying to pursue your dream of starting it over and that's my fault. We're tied, so we're together on this, no backsies. Umm... So... How do we play?

"I can work with that."

[starwarsfic]

Breathe In With Hunger

Originally posted September 13, 2020

Summary: Obi-Wan had spent his whole life keeping his species a secret, until the Clone Wars made that impossible.

Details: Sithspawn Stewjoni AU.

xxxxxx

Obi-Wan hadn't known what to expect from the clone medical staff--he'd seen how efficient the troopers were, he almost hoped that he'd be able to get in and out of medical without any fuss.

That, however, was not to be.

"General," the medic, who had finally introduced himself as Sleep, seemed baffled by something and Obi-Wan braced himself. "Your medical records require Council authorization."

"Ah."

His casual acknowledgement called more notice to them than he'd thought it would, the focused attention of so many similar people clawing at him in the Force.

It also didn't help Sleep's attitude and, from the bags under his eyes and the tell-tale sign of stim-caused tremors, Obi-Wan was beginning to understand the name was possibly an in-joke. "General, I can't treat you if I don't know even the basics about you. It's the entire file except your name and birth date! Even your gender is redacted!"

He shifted, glancing around them. Only clones.

Whatever that meant. As he still wasn't sure how he felt about Jango Fett creating a supposed army for the Republic.

Alpha-17 was there, shifting closer to them with his tell-tale scowl. Beyond him, a few other troopers lingered, ones that had been on the recent mission with them, back-up when no other Jedi, not even his Padawan, were available.

Thus, too, why Obi-Wan wasn't being seen by a Jedi healer who already knew about him.

They all felt safe. Alpha had certainly proven himself time and time again to Obi-Wan.

And if the war continued on as it was going, they would all find out sooner than later, regardless of how careful Obi-Wan was. Perhaps an early warning would garner him the troopers' help in hiding himself in plain sight.

"Do you know what a Stewjoni is?"

Sleep blinked at him, like a droid that had just rebooted, and then startled. "You...but...." His fingers flew across the datapad in his hand, most likely at whatever medical information he'd been able to collect from their own databases. "That would explain the copper levels," he finally allowed, seeming to fumble over his words.

Beside them, Alpha-17 let out a low string of curses in Mando'a, a few that even Obi-Wan didn't know. "That would have been good to know, General," he bit out the title, condescending. "Especially with how the Sith are always all over you."

"I apologize for the oversight, Alpha. It has never been necessary information for those who temporarily worked with me, before."

Obi-Wan needed the distraction from thinking about the Sith--the feel of them against his senses, the smooth Darkness that flowed out of them. His instincts were dulled by over three decades with the Jedi and still they were so, so hard to resist when he was injured and someone like Ventress was right there.

He still remembered the taste of the Sith on Naboo, his instincts tearing through him after watching the killing blow delivered to Qui-Gon, feeling their bond start to come undone. It had just been the slightest amount, enough that he'd come out of the encounter with not even a bruise, but it had made his food taste like ash for months after.

"What do I need to know, sir?" Sleep dragged his attention back from places he really shouldn't let it go.

With a sigh, he motioned for the datapad and reluctantly logged into his own medical profile, watching as two lines became a short lifetime of information. "This is full access, trooper. I expect you to be discreet."

Sleep nodded and, distracted as he was, barely said anything when Obi-Wan slipped from the room. It wasn't as though he had gone alone, Alpha-17 was at his back the whole walk to his own temporary bunk in Tipoca City.

"If you're looking for another apology, Alpha, I'm afraid one isn't coming."

That just earned him a snort, Alpha-17 closing the door behind him and standing in the private room like he was a common fixture and not a new oddity in Obi-Wan's life.

"Your blood was blue."

"Excuse me?"

"After Ohma D'un. I thought it was some trick of the weapon you'd been exposed to."

Obi-Wan licked his lips, glancing down at his wrists where carefully crafted tattoos gave the impression of near-human blood vessels under his light toned skin. "I have an implant," he said, finally, "that helps make my blood look red, or close enough. It had failed by the end." The added iron often made him feel sickly and he'd been almost glad that it wasn't working, with how much damage his body had taken.

"Do you need...accommodations?" When his answer was a raised eyebrow, Alpha-17 glowered and continued, "Like General Koon or General Fisto need. Environmental? Special rations?"

"Have I given any indication that I do?" Now it was Alpha-17's turn to give him a look. "It's not...you must understand, my people were manufactured. We're quite capable of living in very diverse environments and, when our preferred food is scarce, living off of nearly anything." He gave a wry grin. "Though, despite it all, I'll never be as fond of live insects as my Padawan is."

Alpha-17 grimaced, remembering a few particularly harsh campaigns where Anakin had become creative with additions to their GAR-issued rations. He remained silent for a few moments, clearly working through something serious, and Obi-Wan took the time to prepare some tea for them. The ritual of it, adopted from his own Master (who adopted it from Dooku, though Obi-Wan tried not to think of that), was comforting.

As much as he'd deny it, this was a nerve-wracking evening. The last time he'd revealed himself had been when he'd taken Anakin as his Padawan, needing the boy to understand the idiosyncrasies he might notice and the difference in emotions that would flow down their bond. Anakin had already been facing so many changes, and had such a unique perspective compared to the Core and Mid-Rim peoples that Obi-Wan normally encountered, that it had gone easily.

He wasn't sure how the clones would actually take the information, when they had time to process it. Obi-Wan was aware that how human he looked could often be unsettling to those who knew the truth. That his whole being could come across as a lie in itself.

"Are you holding back?" Alpha-17 asked into the silence, after Obi-Wan served him tea in a delicate cup, as if sensing his thought process.

"What do you mean?"

"During our fights. Are you holding back because you're...hiding."

Obi-Wan stroked his beard with one hand, the fingers of the other tapping against his cup. "I suppose, if you wanted to be fully accurate, I am. But it's not because I worried you would find out," he hurried to add, "it is because if I were to stop...it would be very difficult to come back from that."

"What does that mean? You would...go feral?"

He coughed out his sip of tea, trying not to laugh. "No, Force, what sort of odd fictions are you troopers reading?" Alpha-17 had the good grace to look embarrassed. "I could far more easily take on someone like Ventress or even Dooku himself if I used my...natural abilities. However, I do not know if I could stop myself from...feeding from their essences. Which in turn would kickstart a healing process in my body that could very well reverse all the very extensive, and expensive, surgeries I have had over the years and possibly get the Order in trouble for harboring such a dangerous creature as I."

"Right. Because...you don't really look like this."

"Is that a problem, trooper?"

Alpha-17 regarded him and Obi-Wan was confused by the weight of the hurt settling within him at the hesitation. "No, General. I can't say I'm not curious about what you'd really look like, but it's no problem from me." He scowled. "I'm not some longneck who is going to judge you for not being exactly what I was expecting."

***

Sleep died in an explosion four months later. Alpha-17 disappeared into Tipoca City to train ARC troopers after severe injuries towards the end of the first year of the war. The others who new were picked off here and there, the rate of survival for the troopers worryingly low.

Obi-Wan told the medics of the 212th, when he was finally assigned to them, but he did not tell anyone else. The longer he went without doing so, the less he felt like he could.

It was Ventress who told Cody, taking great delight in stroking the scars along Obi-Wan's exposed back as his vulnerable Commander struggled against his bonds. She had a thing for stripping clones that Obi-Wan didn't like, anymore than he liked how she kept chaining him up whenever she caught him.

"He's a pretty thing, isn't he?" she cooed at Cody, carding a hand through Obi-Wan's sweaty hair. "But...why? Isn't it odd, Commander, how he seems to be nearly everyone's type?" Her smirk was self-satisfied and Obi-Wan wanted to kick it off her face. "As if he were...made...to appeal to people, regardless of their species."

Cody just seemed confused, at least at first. What he might have said was lost behind the gag that Obi-Wan found himself more and more thankful for as Ventress continued, pointing out the marks of his surgeries. Where his spines down to their very base had been dug out, where his eyes had been capped over with lenses, where his ears had been cut down and reshaped.

When she stripped down his lower body and gave Cody a view, the anger and distress coming from the clone had sharpened into rage.

As soon as they were free, it was all Obi-Wan could do to keep Cody from beating Ventress to death with his bare hands. Which was...more flattering than he wanted to admit.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Commander," he said, as they settled into the command center of the ship they were now alone on and waited for their rescue.

Cody stared at him. "Sir, that's private information. As long as the medics knew, that's all that I would expect from you."

"Truly? You're not...unnerved?"

The answer was a shrug and what might have been the beginnings of a blush, Cody's shields once more impeccable enough that Obi-Wan couldn't actually tell his feelings in the Force. "I admit it...answered a few questions I had...but it's none of my business."

"Questions about my attractiveness?" he supplied, remembering Ventress using that as a starting point.

"You do, uh, seem to garner a lot of...cross-species interest, General."

Obi-Wan gave a gentle smile, an expression he'd practiced as a youth after noticing how the humans around him responded to it from others.

"My people weren't originally created by the Sith, like every other species of what are called 'Sithspawn' they took us and twisted us to their purposes. Sith Flesh Alchemy allows for otherwise incompatible species to breed, so that they can adopt attributes the Alchemists thought would be useful." His smile turned wry, an expression that felt more natural on his face these days. "I am attractive to so many species because I was genetically engineered to be so. The closest translation into Basic for 'Stewjoni' is 'Siren,' if you know any old Aldeeranian myths."

That got Cody's attention. "You had me read those. I thought it was just...entertainment."

"Ah, you've caught me, my dear. They're not accurate per se--as you can tell, my people no longer spend much time in the water--but they serve as warnings."

"You thought we needed a warning about you? Sir, we know you would never--"

He held up a hand, stopping whatever Cody was about to say. "When Sith are involved, Cody, when they've created you, in a way, you can never be fully trustworthy. There's always the chance that somehow, someway, they still have their grip on you."

His kind weren't prone to nightmares, but everyone he'd had since the war had started was the same--Dooku's shadowy Master finding a way to turn him on his people, on his troops, with little more than the properly worded phrase.

Cody watched him, sadness seeping out from his shields. "General...Obi-Wan...just because those demagolka changed your people somehow...that doesn't mean you're monsters."

"Not just monsters, perhaps."

***

Obi-Wan was not capable of hate, not in the way most species felt it. He knew what it was, knew what it felt like rubbing against him in the Force like a tamed tooka, what it tasted like flooding him as he sipped from a Sith opponent, but he didn't feel it.

If he could, he was almost certain that he would have fallen sometime between being shot at by his suddenly blank-feeling troopers, hearing from Yoda of how most of the Council had confronted Palpatine--Sidious, and having to watch the recording of Anakin slaughtering his way through the Temple.

"You went hunting a Sith without me?" the hiss in his words was the only sign of his emotional turmoil and he tightened his hands and tried to get himself together.

How many of his colleagues--his friends--would still be alive if they had waited?

“Important, it was, to strike quickly.” Yoda’s ears were tucked closely to his head, his shoulders slumped, but Obi-Wan had little sympathy. “The Will of the Force, to act.”

“To act without thinking, to rush headlong against a Sith powerful enough to hide from all of us,” he shot back.

Obi-Wan had known--had accepted--that a war against the Sith would mean exposing himself fully by the end. He’d even imagined that it might end up being against the hidden Sith Master, had looked into ways of reversing some of the procedures he’d gone through--at the very least for claws and teeth, and venom--and none of that mattered, apparently.

He didn’t think he could take Sidious by himself, not when the man would be prepared for attacks and surely knew what he was.

If they’d waited until Obi-Wan had returned, he could have given them the upperhand. “I sincerely doubt the ‘Will of the Force’ wanted the Jedi slaughtered,” he muttered, finally, starting off into the catacombs they hid in.

“Go to face Sidious, do you?”

“No, I’m going to find Anakin. There’s nothing we can do against Sidious, not right now.”

***

The first place he thought to look was with Padme. How many times had he and she played a game of pretending he didn’t know Anakin had spent the night there? How many times had he taken up the role of possible illicit paramore to draw attention from her closeness with Anakin?

She was near-panic, clouding the Force with her strong emotions, but she understood what they needed to do. If Anakin was caught in a torrent of the Darkside, they’d need to be very careful in talking him down.

“If we can’t reach him...will you kill him?” Her hands clutched her rounded belly, as though the children within could understand the conversation and needed comfort.

Obi-Wan took long breaths, staring down at Mustafar as the ship approached. The whole planet was rife with the Dark, making his instincts claw at the back of his mind. But it was Anakin he felt most strongly, the blazing sun of his Force present nothing but rage and fear, now.

“If we can’t reach him, that means it’s not Anakin anymore. We don’t know what Sidious did to him to get him to this point.” His hands clenched, imagining some of the stories his people shared of Sith crimes. “There might just...be nothing left of him.”

He was upsetting her, perhaps unnecessarily, but he needed her to know. Needed her to be prepared.

“Your children must be your priority, Padme. It’s what he would have thought, too.” They stared into each other’s eyes, her trying hard not to flinch away from him.

Outside, the volcanic air was harsh enough that Obi-Wan worried for her health--and Anakin's. The Force could do much, but if he wasn't careful, Anakin would ruin his lungs. He'd always been so reckless with his own body.

xxxxxx

A/N: This got a little too long to just be shoved in my drabble collection (where you'll find some other stuff using the same headcanons) so I decided to make it it's own work, even though I rewrote the ending like six times over the last few weeks. 

This post has everything so far about my headcanon, but in short: Stewjoni were originally sentient predators that fed off of Force users in particular and when the fallen Jedi alchemists met up with the Sith and found out about them, they experimented on them and made them into basically Sith hunting pets.

The very original idea was because I really can't stand Stewjoni (considering it was a joke that Lucas refused to back down on) and "Stewjon is Space Scotland," and there's this Scottish legend called a "baobhan sith" that's like a siren.

Sleep is one of my clone OCs.

[transthaumaturge]

Ace Attorney and the Finally Kind-Of Okay Queer Representation

Note: This post contains massive spoilers for Turnabout Academy, the third case in the 3DS game Ace Attorney: Dual Destinies. There are also spoilers for a few cases in the earlier games. Please only read on if you’re okay with that.

I love Ace Attorney, but as a series it is fraught with bad queer representation. It really says something that the first queer character that I felt pretty good about was five games in. Most of this bad rep is in the form of effeminate, gay-coded men that are written as evil and/or comic relief. A brief rundown:

1) Redd White, the power-hungry CEO of Bluecorp;

2) Jean Armstrong, the cowardly café owner who lied on the stand (and who is repeatedly misgendered by the judge for comic relief);

3) Florent L’Belle, the greedy Mayor’s Aid.

All three characters are presented as a mix of negative stereotypes and bad-faith comic relief. They’re dark spots in an otherwise really fun series, and it’s made me very uncomfortable interacting with each one as I’ve played through the cases. I’ve never felt worse about Ace Attorney than when it’s punching down on gay-coded characters, all of whom were written with no redeemable qualities. I mean, two of them were the actual murderers in their respective cases! Honestly, it just sucked.

That’s why I got so excited (and also super-nervous they would botch it again) today while playing through Turnabout Academy, at the moment when one of the characters is revealed to be explicitly trans. I’ll go over the general facts and then discuss why this was a step in the right direction, but still very flawed.

In the case, Robin Newman is a high school law student and a close friend of the defendant. In the early stages of the case, Robin presents as a very masculine individual and even wears a chest brace that is supposedly proof of her manliness. This whole time, she’s represented as a very aggressive and unhappy person. But on the first day of the case, it’s revealed that she put on a feminine costume belonging to the defendant because she really wanted to wear something girly. When further pressed, she comes out in the courtroom and reveals that she’s actually a girl—the chest brace was hiding the fact that she had breasts, and her parents raised her as a boy as some terrible step in forcing her to become a prosecutor when she grew up. Afterward, she’s a very cheerful, peppy person and says that she’s grateful she finally gets to live life as a girl and pursue her dream of becoming an artist.

As a trans woman myself, I started getting really excited as soon as it became clear that Robin put on the outfit—and even more excited when it was finally revealed that she was a girl who had been raised as a boy. The first thing that tipped me off to my gender identity was wanting to wear women’s clothing, so this gender euphoria through clothing scenario was something that I could relate to on a deep emotional level. And while I got nervous at first because the blame for the murder was briefly pinned on her, that ultimately goes nowhere. This is the first queer character in an Ace Attorney game that is represented as kind, positive, and trustworthy. Robin is wonderful. I love her so much.

But now I want to dive into where parts of her portrayal are still negative, and how Capcom made several missteps that ultimately resulted in Robin not being as fleshed-out and three-dimensional as she deserved to be.

First, Robin’s reveal is still treated like comic relief at times. I was really uncomfortable when several characters said “he was a she???” or something to that effect. Given that “he-she” was once a widely used transphobic slur for trans women, it wasn’t in good taste. Also uncomfortable was the fact that as soon as the big reveal happened, she took on a bunch of hyperfeminine behavioral and vocal tics. The worst was when she started swooning every time that anything shocking happened for the rest of the time she was on the stand. It felt like this was just a way to play up the comedy side of “hey, she’s a girl now.” She was forcibly outed in the courtroom, and then magically showed no trauma or self-doubt afterward. It almost felt like she wasn’t there to be a serious character anymore. Later, she thanks Athena for outing her. I think that sends the wrong message.

What did the game do right when portraying her? I loved how visibly relieved and happy she was after coming out, though it sucks that she didn’t get to do it on her own terms. It’s later revealed that she had confided in a professor about her gender identity and had a plan to come out to the school, so that was a nice touch. I also really liked it being mentioned that she had been raised as a boy, removing most of the ambiguity about what we were seeing—that this wasn’t a self-imposed repression of her authentic self, but something that had been forced on her. They used the right pronouns for her throughout the entire rest of the case without slipping up even once, thankfully not misgendering her for laughs like they did relentlessly with Jean Armstrong two games earlier. She was also just a really pleasant character to be around afterward, so that was nice.

What would be on my wish list if I were asked to help in rewriting Robin to be a more positive example of trans representation? First, I would fix her character’s comedic behavioral tics. Most witnesses have some silly animations, but the fact that all of her tics after being outed were hyperfeminine to the point of parody made me uncomfortable. Are there other ways to make her a bit quirky and visibly feminine without punching down on her burgeoning relationship with her gender? I’m sure that there are. It would also be nice for her reaction to being out in public for the first time to be more on par with what you might actually expect if a trans woman found herself in that situation. She probably feels relieved, but also a bit scared, embarrassed, and hesitant about how she’s supposed to act now. I would love to see some of that reflected in how she talks and in how she acts. Maybe she’s daydreaming of what she can wear now that she’s out, and that’s interspersed with nervous hair-twirling and curtsying at awkward times.

I’d also like her to say something to Athena about how she wished that she wasn’t forced to come out in front of a bunch of people like that, but she’s happy that she gets to be herself. Anything other than thanking Athena for outing her with no qualifiers. The fact that she was forcibly outed needs to be portrayed as a traumatic moment. Sure, something good came out of it and Athena didn’t immediately realize that that’s where the cross-examination was going, but it shouldn’t have happened. An apology from Athena would also be nice. She should feel at least a little bit guilty about outing someone in the middle of a courtroom, even if that someone was much happier afterwards.

Finally, I’d love for there to be less ambiguity about the events that led her to this point—and ideally, something that more explicitly shows that she’s a trans woman. The way her dialogue was written, I think the writers were trying to portray her as having been assigned female at birth, but later forced by her parents to take on a male identity for…some reason. It’s never explained why they would want to inflict that on her. She’s trans regardless of her sex at birth if she was forced to live life as a boy for her entire childhood, but I think that it could be handled better. A few possibilities that I like more:

1) She was already in the middle of gender transition, and started wearing the chest brace when her breasts began to develop since she wasn’t ready to be out in public—especially to her parents, who might have cut her financial support off if they had known. After all, she was at a prestigious private legal school. That must have been a concern.

2) She was intersex, and her parents raised her as a boy when she was growing up because that’s unfortunately what happens so often with intersex children—they’re forced into one side of the binary or the other, and sometimes they find out later on that their parents didn’t make the right choice or that they don’t identify with a binary gender identity at all. Robin had breasts because she was born with both male and female sex characteristics, and try as her parents might to force her into manhood, she still had a uterus. Not every intersex person is trans, but plenty are.

3) Or just…remove the bit where she’s revealed to have breasts altogether, and keep in the fact that she’s a girl who was raised as a boy! Why does she have to be “a biological female in disguise”? While either of the above two options would have been good ways to explain the fact that she had breasts, I’m not giving the writers enough credit to have thought of one or the other. If they had, it would have been hinted at. On some level, it felt like they were saying “it’s okay everyone, she’s not really trans. Look, she had breasts all along!” If that’s what they were trying to do, then screw it; just change the reveal but nothing else about the character, and make her an unabashedly AMAB trans woman.

Anyway, those are my thoughts on the topic. I recognize that this was super long-winded, but I needed to get my thoughts out—anyone who’s interested in this and got something from the long read, I’m glad that I was able to provide some insight. And I’m not even done with the series yet! Maybe they did do better! I don’t have my hopes up, but maybe! Anyway, please feel free to reblog this post with your thoughts or message me if this inspired any opinions of your own. As long as those thoughts aren’t “Robin isn’t really trans or queer at all.” I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life.

Have a great day, everyone! And thanks for reading!

[nerdygaymormon]

what do you think about the new handbook?

In January 2016 I received a calling that gave me access to the Church’s Handbooks and I was surprised at the amount of specific things in there on which I had never considered the Church having an official position. I imagine a lot of people are having that experience this week.

I’m glad the Church made the Handbook available to everyone, it’s a move towards transparency. Before this, people were being held to standards or facing processes that only their leaders could access.

I appreciate that in some areas there’s better framework and clarity, but am sad that it often came in the form of being more restrictive or not in line with modern science.

I’m going to outline the changes and add a few comments. ’ll put my opinion about all of this at the end, so if that’s what you want to see, scroll to the bottom.

————————————————————— 

Miscellaneous

The Handbook covers a lot of information, so I’m certain in the days and weeks ahead more new things will be discovered. But for now, here’s some assorted policies.

Sacrament

We’re supposed to take the Sacrament with our right hands

The wording that young men are encouraged, but not required, to wear a white shirt and tie is gone. All males who pass the Sacrament are asked to be clean and well groomed.

For a long time, which hand to use has been considered a personal choice, and some associated special meaning by using their right hand.

In February 2019, Elder Oaks saw some youth take the Sacrament with the left hand and he gave a short lecture that went viral telling these kids they were wrong, and now it’s official policy in the Handbook.

Dress Standards

The Relief Society Presidency is to teach dress standards to the sisters so their appearance and clothing show reverence and respect at Church and at the temple.

These are adult women!!! They can’t figure this out for themselves? It mentions ostentatious jewelry and casual clothes without any examples of what this means. I’m afraid some leaders will enforce their personal opinions, such as pants are verboten.

Also this section included a comment about ostentatious jewelry. What is that? Having 2 earrings in 1 ear?

—————————————————————

Discipline

Disciplinary councils have been renamed “Membership Councils”

People no longer are disfellowshipped or excommunicated. They have “formal membership restrictions” or “withdrawal of membership”

Does away with the unequal disciplinary structure for adult men vs adult women.

Before, men who were endowed had a disciplinary council at the stake level. Everyone else had a disciplinary council held by their bishopric.

Now anyone who is endowed and likely to have their Church membership withdrawn will have a stake membership council. Everyone else has a ward membership council for serious sins & actions

At the ward level, membership councils still function the same (the bishopric holds a council with the person whose membership is at risk).

At the stake level, the council now is similar to the way it works at the ward level (the stake presidency meets, without the high council also being involved).

The individual’s bishops can sit in on the council. The individual can also choose for the Elders Quorum or Relief Society President to sit in on the council.

Same-sex marriage is no longer apostasy

Apostasy has been removed from a list of reasons to hold a membership council. Instead it is on a case-by-case basis.

The stake president can place informal membership restrictions on the person and the stake president counsels with the Area Presidency (which are Seventy) about anything more than that, such as a membership council

The language is softer but the results are the same.

I like that men & women are treated equally in this new system. It always struck me wrong that most men in the church automatically had a council of 15 men and women had 3 men.

The reversal of the 2015 Policy of Exclusion finally made it to the Handbook. 

————————————————————— 

Gay, Lesbian, Bi, Same-Sex Attracted

Families & members should be sensitive, love and respectful of people who are gay, lesbian & bi

Sexual activity with someone of the same gender is on the same level as an unmarried sex.

Membership councils are optional in these cases, based on the leader’s discretion.

As long as an LGBTQ member is “striving” to live the law of chastity, they’re allowed to hold a calling and temple recommend

“Sexual cohabitation” used to be forbidden, now it’s “cohabitation”. So I guess gay people living together is a problem regardless of whether they have sex. I do know of a few couples who live together, but have given up sex in order to be temple worthy. I guess that’s no longer an option.

The mormonandgay website was done away with and some of the items moved to a new page titled “Same-Sex Attraction.”

Most of the links on this new page don’t work. I’m sure this will get fixed

Most of the “resources” from the old page aren’t on the new page.

The last 4 video stories of members from the former site are on the new site.

Credit for finally making this page available in languages other than English.

I wonder if it will still say it’s okay to identify using the terms gay, bi or lesbian.I know President Oaks prefers the phrase “same-sex attraction” and a lot of his influence is seen in the new Handbook changes. 

The best section of the previous site was a collection of 17 members who are gay, bi and lesbian (well, 2 of them are parents of gay kids). Hearing them tell their story in their own words was powerful. Most of them have asked for their video to be removed.

The only stories remaining are 2 people in a mixed-orientation marriage and 2 parents who have a gay son. Each of those 4 members now has multiple videos (Laurie, Laurie’s husband, Laurie’s bishop, Laurie’s friend). 

The experience of most LGB people in the Church is now absent from this page, which again confirms for me that this has been a site for leaders & family, not actual members who are bisexual, lesbian or gay.

—————————————————————

Transgender

Preferred names can be noted in your membership record and Church leaders are encouraged to use them.

People can also to ask others to use their chosen pronouns

Elective surgical or medical intervention (which I believe means hormone treatment) for the purpose of transitioning, and social transitioning will result in membership restrictions.

These restrictions include not getting to exercise the priesthood, receiving or using a temple recommend, and receiving some Church callings

Even if the hormone therapy is prescribed by a medical professional to ease gender dysphoria or reduce suicidal thoughts, membership restrictions will result

Transgender people who don’t transition can have Church callings & temple recommends

Gender is defined as “biological sex at birth.”

This is recorded on Church records and determines whether someone can receive the priesthood and how they experience the temple ordinances

Transgender people & their family are welcome to attend Sunday church meetings and social events

There is now a page for transgender people, just as there has been for LGB people

This whole section of the Handbook makes me sad because it reduces these members to being a mistake and they need to choose a side. Nevermind they were born this way and have complex lives, they need to look and act like a cishet member.

I’d love if the church leaders could show scriptural backing & the words of the Savior to justify their views on trans folks other than the Family Proclamation.

Credit to the Church for switching from “transsexual” to “transgender

While trans people are welcome to attend the 2nd hour of church, no guidance was given about if they can choose either Relief Society or Elders Quorum

It’s problematic to define gender being as your biological sex at birth. If gender is eternal, why is “at birth” needed? A doctor or nurse assigns a biological sex at birth by taking a look at the newborn’s external genitals. This is only 1 of 5 markers of gender. A doctor or a nurse is not God.

5 components of biological sex

external genitalia

inner reproductive anatomy

sex hormones

chromosomes

gonad differentiation (gonad secretions cause sex-specific patterns in many other tissues & the brain)

This section of the Handbook still speaks of gender as binary–you’re either male or female and trans. Genderfluid, nonbinary, or any acknowledgement of a spectrum doesn’t exist.

To say a trans person will face consequences for social transitioning is really troubling. What does “social transitioning” mean? Do pronouns count as “social transitioning?” Long or short hair? If people must dress according to gender stereotypes, then it seems like leadership is more concerned about the feelings of the 99 and not the health & well being of the 1.

Why is it only transgender members who have a ban on these surgeries? Lots of breast enhancements, reductions and mastectomies take place every month with not a whiff of interest by church leaders, but if it’s done to affirm one’s gender identity, then it’s forbidden, even if it’s life saving.

It did make me feel queasy to read that even if medical or surgical intervention is prescribed by medical professionals to deal with gender dysphoria or suicidal thoughts, too bad, we’re still going to punish you. What kind of monsters came up with this?

————————————————————— 

Intersex, aka People Whose Sex isn’t Clear at Birth

The Handbook says the incident rate of intersex is extremely rare

Questions about membership records, priesthood ordination and temple ordinances for youth or adults who were born with sexual ambiguity should be directed to the Office of the First Presidency.

This is the first I’ve seen Intersex given their own section in the Handbook.

While policies about LGBT people are listed as “moral issues”, the section on intersex people is under “medical and health policies.” That’s a good sign, it means that the medical profession determines what is best, not a church leader.

I appreciate that church takes this out of the hands of local leadership. It’s a complex issue that untrained people shouldn’t get to have say over.

The Church assumes that surgical & medical intervention is needed for this group of people. Unfortunately it implies the default is to do so in infancy or early childhood when current best practices would be delaying, if possible, until the individual can weigh in on their body & identity. 

The idea that intersex is rare, well that depends on what they consider rare.

The rate could be as high as 2% of the population or as low as 1 in 2000.

If we think of that in terms of Church congregations, it suddenly seems not so rare.

In North America, a ward must have 300 members. If 1%-2% are intersex, that’s a couple people in each congregation.

If we go with the lowest rate of 1 in 2000, consider that in the US & Canada a stake requires a minimum of 3000 members. So 1 or 2 members per stake would be intersex.

—————————————————————

I think these changes show that the Church is willing to include queer people up to a point. We can feel & be the person we believe ourselves to be as long as we don’t actually act in a way that affirms who we are.

We are to be loved, respected and welcomed, however these homophobic and transphobic policies remain in place. Love & respect is more than smiling & being nice to someone.

The policies of the Church regarding queer people is out of line with science. As science continues to advance and confirm that gender identities and sexual orientations are real and biological and not changeable by will, the tension for the Church on these topics will continue to grow.

“The only clear line I draw these days is this: when my religion tries to come between me and my neighbor, I will choose my neighbor. Jesus never commanded me to love my religion.” -Rev. Barbara Brown Taylor

Considering Jesus admonishes us again and again to love each other and that we are all alike to God, I can only guess that Jesus wept. Again.

[i-am-my-own-goal]

A real update

I mean, I’m a little drunk cause...poor coping skills still, but work in progress right? I’m self justifying.

Gyno appointment

She was AMAZING. My boyfriend recommended her to me because he’s going to this practice for his hysterectomy. I figured if he felt comfortable there, I probably would too. The first questions she asked me was preferred pronouns/gender identify/and sex assigned at birth. Right off the bat, I loved that. She asked me about my pain and actually listened to me and asked me to further explain when she wasn’t understanding. She asked if I had been diagnosed with cysts before (I haven’t. Also never been asked that.) she said next appointment (since I got scared and didn’t ask when I called) she wants to do a transvaginal ultrasound. Well, she said “I’d like to do this, are you okay with that?” I sarcastically answered “no but I guess If I have to.” AND SHE WAS SO EMPATHETIC. She goes, “if you’re not comfortable with that, we won’t do it. I don’t ever want you to do something you aren’t comfortable with. This will give us the best view, but if you want to try a less invasive ultrasound, we can do that” y’all....this doctor CARED ABOUT MY FEELINGS AND COMFORT. she spent a good 5 minutes assessing if I was really okay with doing this ultra sound and that made me feel so much better about scheduling that appointment. Because of my vulvodynia and vaginismus, they HURT but I know it’s necessary. And I feel so much less scared knowing that this practice actually cares about their patients. I didn’t feel like she rushed the appointment at all. She seemed to genuinely care.

The only negative I saw was that they discussed a patient in the hallway...hello confidentiality? But it was so strengths based. Something about the patient being upset that she wasn’t scheduled with a certain doctor. But whoever was in the hallway was like “I know, sometimes it’s hard when patients misunderstand or we don’t explain things properly. I know you (the other doctor) didn’t do anything wrong and we will reach back out and get her scheduled properly and make sure she’s understanding” like, it wasn’t condescending. But still like, be cognizant of the fact that the exam rooms aren’t sound proof haha.

My next appointment is on the 18th and my boyfriend is taking off work so he can come with me. I am really nervous because the last time I had this ultrasound done, it was incredibly painful. So, I’m glad that he will be there with me. 

Therapy

I’m starting to think Florida was a great move. It was only the first session, but I LOVE MY THERAPIST. She is a trauma therapist who specializes in EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing). She has a similar work history to me (mental health case management and child welfare) and is also a transplant to Florida. She’s maybe late 40s early 50s. I got a great vibe from her immediately. So calming and safe, but I can tell that she will tell it like it is...which is so great. She seems very knowledgeable and talked about her work experience and a little about herself. I like that. I wanna know my therapist a bit. I think if I ever become one, if my client wanted to know me a bit, I’d share appropriate information too. It was nice knowing that she’s human too. I felt like we connected. She didn’t make me feel dumb for my experiences or emotions or history. She listened. She admitted when she didn’t know things (vulvodynia and vaginismus) and when she didn’t feel particularly skilled (lgbt+ issues).

I felt like we were just having a conversation the whole time. Coming from an educational background on social work and counseling, I feel like she will be a really great therapist. From a client perspective, I say the same. She seems very empathetic and I don’t think it’s just cause she has to be.

She did diagnose me with PTSD and anxiety and feels my depression stems from the anxiety. She also believes that sexual trauma and trauma in general can affect the reproductive system. This is something I’ve been thinking about for a while. I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts who connect trauma to pains in the body. So, it was really exciting to hear her believe these things because it’s something that I have believed as well. She said that EM D R can bring up repressed memories. She said not everyone who has these reproductive and sexual dysfunctions have been through sexual trauma, but it is very common. This is also something I’ve been wondering about because of certain nightmares that I have. There’s never really a face, but they feel so real. I know my ex husband raped me fairly often and I’m pretty sure I was raped in my early 20’s , but I’ve always wondered if there was something in my childhood. So, I dunno. We will see.

I will be seeing her once a week until mid April. She let me schedule as far as I wanted. This was actually really nice because the last therapist I was seeing, we were going almost a month between sessions because of her availability. I mentioned this to the new therapist and she said that was ridiculous and offered to schedule me as far out as I wanted. so amazing and mindful.

All good things 💜

[klausesdiego]

the trial of my gender by maggie c.

below is the personal essay i wrote for my creative nonfiction class. it documents and talks about my struggle with accepting who i am and how i identify in terms of gender. please read the whole thing and be kind. 

I sat at my dining room table, in the middle of the night, watching YouTube videos about people documenting their gender transition. It was fascinating to me, much in the same way that an outside observer would see any scientific study or conduction. To me it was simply that; I was an outside force that was interested in learning more about this topic. For research purposes. I was in 8th grade, so my fascinations tended to fringe to the edges of what was normal. I loved British panel shows, documentaries about serial killers, and even How It’s Made videos. Basically, I watched a large variety of videos that a typical 13 year old wouldn’t think to even look up. And one day I stumbled across the genre of gender transition videos. I believe I was looking up hair dying tutorials because this was around the same time I started experimenting with my hair color; regardless, I ended up watching voice comparisons, post-op surgery reports, and just vlogs in general of people venting their gender concerns. It wasn’t then and there that I realized that being transgender was a thing. I knew of it before that moment. But it was at the moment, the dining room deathly quiet and dark as night except for the illumination of my computer screen that I began to question my own gender.

Gender dictates everything in life. Everywhere you go, even from a young age, you are determined your worth through gender. And maybe it’s not as clear and forthright as you may think I’m trying to convey it as, but a closer eye can see that nearly everything in life, is based on gender. From an early age, even preschool or kindergarten, you are divided by gender. They tell the boys to be a group and the girls to be a group. And at that young age it is ingrained in everyone’s brain that gender is a binary. Gender is male or female and there is no inbetween. It won’t be until high school,l at least, that people will learn that sometimes people fall outside of those binary lines. Maybe you were a male who dressed or acted a little too feminine for everyone’s liking. Maybe you were deemed a “tomboy” simply because you prefered board shorts to bikinis. But at the end of the day, the people around you will label you as a gender that is either male or female. And that isn’t the case. If gender is a binary code of 1’s and 0’s, then everything that doesn’t fit within that code is labeled “nonbinary”. Gender non-conforming, transgender, androgynous, agender, genderqueer whatever you want to call yourself, there are things that lie beyond that binary.

Even when I was young, I didn’t know where I was supposed to fall in the gender binary. I knew that because of how I was born that I was deemed female. Assigned female at birth. That’s what some people call it. But it didn’t really seemed assigned. It didn’t feel like a government assigned label, like a social security number. It truly felt like a piece of my identity. At least, partially. When I was a freshman in highschool I finally berated my mom to the point where she let me cut my hair short into what I called a “pixie” cut. I tried to find the most feminine word for it, hoping that it would sway her opinion. This was soon after I learned the wonders of gender transition videos and watching them soon became a daily habit. In the end I looked like Justin Bieber from 2009, but I didn’t care. I was in love with it. My face was too rounded, my lips were too full. But my hair seemed right, finally. When I was a sophomore in highschool I came out to my parents as transgender. I wrote the date down in my calendar but said calendar has long since seen the trash can after one too many times of me cleaning my bedroom out of anxiety-ridden panic. I told them I wish I was born a male. And the funniest part about that? I don’t even think they remember. Sure, we had a good cry and my mom hugged me, telling me she would love me no matter who or what I wanted to become, but after that night, we never spoke of it again. My parents kept leaving little hints here and there that I might be a lesbian, saying things like “whoever you decide to marry” or “your future significant other”, but they never mentioned my gender. I was always going to be their little girl. And for a while, only my closest friends knew about who I was.

For a graphic design class I took in college, we had to construct a poster series about a serious issue that we were concerned about. The professor used his personal example of heroine usage in York, Pennsylvania and shared stories about it affecting his life directly. At this point in my life I was pretty confident in being unconfident in my gender, so naturally, I gravitated towards transgender-related topics. I learned that every 4 days a person who is transgender gets murdered. I made the poster in the style of a calendar with a bouquet of flowers every 4 days with the flowers being the color scheme of the transgender flag. I thought it was somber but albeit fitting. Learning that terrible fact was a shock for me. I knew that people who were transgender were discriminated, harassed, assaulted, and killed. But at that rate? It made me scared for my life. I was glad, for once in my life, that I presented myself as my biological gender. It was my safety net. Plausible deniability.

Rewind to high school, sophomore year to be exact, I started going by a different name, a more masculine name, online in gender support groups. My closest friend to me, the only one who knew about this whole thing, asked me if I wanted her to refer to me as a boy. I told her it didn’t matter. It did matter to me though. I wanted to be referred to a boy but I didn’t want to go through the hoops of having to change everything about my outer life to simply appease the gnawing feeling inside of me. At night, I wished that I could just wake up one morning with a different body and a different background. It didn’t matter to me how or why, I just felt that all of my problems with who I was would be solved if I had been more biologically male.

One of my friends from middle school is transgender. He started transitioning in his freshman year of college and I followed his journey of finding himself through Instagram. He seems genuinely happy and I feel happy for him everytime I see one of his posts. A different friend of mine, from highschool this time, thought he was a lesbian at the time, and it wasn't until he graduated high school that he decided he wanted to transition to male and be who he truly was. Even at college now, I know of people who have found themselves and their gender through time and experience. They say that cancer affects everyone because everyone knows someone who has been a victim of it. But this works the same for the transgender community. Nearly everyone knows someone. And if they say don’t, then they probably know a closeted person.

For a few years after sophomore year, I decided to let my gender identity go to the back burner, after all I had more important things on my plate: college applications and getting my driver's license. It wasn’t until I was a freshman in college, going to my first meeting of the Gay Straight Alliance that I realized I could reinvent myself No one here knew who I was. So when it came time to say my name and pronouns, I said my birth name, a name I still hold very dear to my heart, and the pronouns “they/them”. It may look like dipping your toe in the water to some people, testing to see if it’s the perfect temperature, but to me it was like taking a running jump and going into a cannonball. I was out. No matter what I was. No matter what I identified as. I was not cisgender anymore.

The idea of cisgender became a hot debate online in forum posts all around. Some people saw the shortening of it to “cis” as a slur much to the way that transphobic people would call transgender people tr*nny’s. But, in reality, it was just a label that society had created to say that your birth gender matched up with the gender you identified as. Most people are cisgender and for a lot of people their knowledge ends just there. Maybe they don’t even know the term cisgender at all. Maybe they are blissfully unaware of the struggles that people go through everyday just by existing. Maybe they just don’t care.

My cousin came out as transgender in an odd way. Through Facebook. She just posted briefly that she had begun hormone replacement therapy. She was already known as the extreme left-wing of the family. She had moved out to California to pursue a degree in gender studies. We all assumed she was just gay, not that she was actually a she. My sister-in-law’s sister came out as transgender, deciding to transition in her late 30’s despite having a wife and daughter. It was then that I realized that being transgender, having a different idea of who you are than from when you were born, isn’t just a fad that people on the internet were adhering to. This was a real thing. I felt justified in that moment. And my feelings felt like they had some grounding for the first time in a while.

In the gender support groups online, I was still a pretty active member at this point, I started going by masculine pronouns instead, still keeping my name the feminine one I was given at birth. This raised a lot of questions as to why I wanted to keep my name, but ultimately it boiled down to the fact that my name didn’t bother me that much. In reality, it just seemed to bother other people more. Like they couldn’t imagine someone by the name of Jennifer being a male. But I knew that it didn’t matter what other people thought of me. I started wearing exclusively sports bras, trying to smother my chest as best as possible. I was on my way to becoming who I wanted to be.

A lot of people who are transgender call their birth names their “dead names”. They see it as exactly that. That other person is dead to society. They have reinvented themselves much like how a phoenix rises from the ashes. While I had experimented with other names, more masculine names, as stated above, I felt a deep connection with my birth name and I didn’t see myself changing it anytime soon. But then again, my reluctance to not change my name was not really based on my affections for said name. Rather, it was me, once again, not wanting to go through the hoops and hurdles of having to change my outer life so much to fit the way I saw myself inside. In my head I knew who I was. What did it matter that other people saw something different? At the end of the day I know that by the end of my gender journey if I decide to change my name, or at least go by a different name, I would be perfectly fine with that. But my birth name would always hold a dear part in my heart.

I came out to my parents as bisexual in an unusual way. It was actually before I went to college. We were on a road trip to visit one of the colleges I had been accepted to and we stopped at a Burger King for lunch. It was bisexual awareness day and so I posted something on Instagram about it. My mom turned to me, and just said, “So, bisexual, huh?” And it was left at that. You might have sensed a theme that my parents aren’t the best with continuing communication by now. I think, some strange part of me deep down inside of me knew, my parents were glad that in their eyes I wasn’t “fully gay”. There was still a chance I would settle down with a nice Christian boy and have 2.5 kids with a white picket fence. And there still is that chance. But there is also the chance that I find a nice girl and we settle down, opting for cats instead of children. I remember, years later, talking to my parents in my living room about weddings. My sister was getting married and I dropped the bomb casually that I may end up marrying a woman. My mother, my closest friend in the entire world, started crying at this. It left me shattered in a way that I haven’t fully recovered from. She told me she would always love me but that she didn’t know how she would feel if she had to have my father give me away to a woman instead of a man. I left to my room heartbroken and sobbed myself to sleep that night.

After I came out to my parents as transgender, I did a lot of research about hormone replacement therapy and how parents view their children who were transgender. I would sit on the bus on the way home from freshman year high school and Google terms like “what to do if my child is transgender” or “female to male teen transition”. I was trying to research what I imagined my parents would be researching. In reality, we know that they never mentioned again to me so for all I know, they never did any research. For all I know they erased that day of their lives out of their memory. For me, however, it will be forever ingrained in my memory. It was the first day I started being true to myself. I was truthful when I told my parents I was transgender. I was truthful when I told my parents I wish I would have been born a male. I just left out the part where I didn’t actually want to live my life as a male. Not fully. I was nonbinary. Genderqueer. Agender. Or even, all of the above.

My experience with gender isn’t anywhere over and I don’t see it being over anytime soon. As of right now, I identify as nonbinary, dancing in some weird abyss of not being female and not being male. I see it as more of a burden than an identity. The fact that I can’t pinpoint exactly who I am is frustrating, but a lot of people don’t see it in the same way. That’s the magic of it being a spectrum; there will be people who feel everything at every point in said spectrum. Some people out there will love being nonbinary and the freedom that it gives them. Most people don’t feel like me. Most people don’t see being nonbinary as a burden or something at fault. But for me, I hope to one day find myself and who I truly am, even if that is what I already know.

When I first cut my hair short freshman year of high school, someone asked me if I was gay. Gay, in today's terms, sort of means the same as queer. Anything other than the normal. Gay emcompasses anything revolving around the LGBT community for some people. I told them no. It felt like cutting a piece of myself out. One of the deadliest sins a Christian can commit is denying their Lord. When asked if you are a Christian, a Christian must respond yes, or else they sacrifice their ticket to their afterlife. To me, answering no felt like I was denying myself that ticket to the gay afterlife. If asked that same question today, I would look them in the eye, think of the LGBT heaven I was destined for, and say yes.

[theclaravoyant]

Enjoying all your trans appreciation fan works and reblogs so much! I'm not sure if you'll know this but maybe some of your followers might? I have a character in an og work that's trans, but I identify as cis. Do you know of any writing blogs or spaces that could give me advice both on writing a trans character well and also on what plot lines I should or shouldn't give them?

Hi! I am so glad you are enjoying the works! Thanks for the ask, I will do my best to answer below the cut.

The first thing to think about is that everyone has different perspectives on what should be expected when writing experiences that aren’t necessarily your own, and what counts as ‘your own’ experiences. The number one piece of advice everyone gives is “do your research, listen to trans people” which is super important but I promise you, it will get confusing and possibly nervewracking trying to do it ‘right’ the more perspectives you hear. Yay. Just do your best and somebody somewhere will appreciate it; as with any writing and representation, remember that you will never be able to please everybody and as hard as that is, it’s just reality. You’re also not pleasing anybody by not writing trans characters at all, so you already can’t win. I will start off to say, as a nonbinary (trans) person, thank you for trying and for reaching out, and I hope others appreciate that effort too.

For me personally, I try to strike a balance which an author described once along the lines of “I can include [x people] in my stories, but I can’t write about being [x].” There are certain inner lives and experiences of people eg. from different cultures, different religions, different gender experiences etc than ourselves that we may never be able to fully capture, so we may be limited in the depths to which we can authentically explore their inner lives, BUT we can and should still include such characters. They may not necessarily be able to be our most main characters, due to these limitations in depth and authenticity, but we can still populate our world with them. I think this is where you should consider aiming if you aren’t already.

Finding this balance feeds into the sort of ‘stories you shouldn’t tell’ idea. The main three to avoid are all somewhat intertwined and they are:

- depression- voyeurism- guilt

Similarly to with a lot of same sex attracted characters, trans people tend to be most tired of our stories being about the Struggle, depression/suicide, abuse etc. It’s a valid consideration since it’s such a reality for many trans people, but it’s pretty much all the stories we have. (There’s also plenty of struggle for the parents coming to terms with things etc......... bit over that focus too tbh). This article calls it ‘the cis gaze’ and it dominates the current media landscape when it comes to trans stories; we’re getting more of them, but they’re all the same. Think of just about any mainstream trans story and then... try something else)

Also, a lot of trans stories still end up being kind of... voyeuristic? There’s a lot about transition, surgery, and especially body parts and sex, and it’s kinda objectifying and gross. There’s also the concept of deadname reveals - a deadname being usually the name assigned at birth, which falls out of use and can even be triggering when a person realises they are trans and/or transitions. I personally don’t mind the occasional deadname reveal and similar in stories, especially when the “trans people are inherently deceptive” trope is subverted, but seriously it is in SO MANY trans stories, usually as a Shocking Twist that doesn’t let trans people have a right to privacy of their backstories. Of course, there’s lots in any character’s backstory that is vulnerable to become a shocking twist, but with trans people it comes with added baggage of being outed against our will and being treated as inherently deceptive for trying to live our lives. There’s extra weight to shocking twists of a trans nature (whereas if the trans character’s shocking twist was, they were born in a different country or they’re actually an expert marksman or something, that’s got less baggage - you can still do twists! just be mindful of ones where transness of the character is the ‘punchline’ if you will). If you can avoid deadnaming altogether, I would recommend that, or at least or subvert it (eg, someone finds out deadname, doesn’t feel need to reveal this to the universe and/or helps keep it quiet) or discourage it (eg. only this character’s abusive parents deadname them).

The main thing with this is, don’t make the trans character feel guilty about being trans, or seem shady/deceptive or incomplete for being trans. Don’t frame it like it’s some terrible secret, or that they Must reveal that they are trans or else they’re lying to their friends/partner/etc. This is one of the reasons why deadname reveals are so problematic, whether they are done by another character (outing someone against their will... don’t make good guys do this) or by the character themselves out of a sense of obligation, fear, or shame.

DON’T, DO NOT HAVE TRANS VILLAINS PLEASE. I just don’t think we’re at a place yet where there’s enough balance for this to be equal. It tends to get at the whole “men disguise themselves as women to rape women” thing which is a big ew especially because real transphobes really exist and really think this.

Also, avoid “she used to be a dude” jokes or similar, especially when met with unimaginable horror/being a dealbreaker (sitcoms i’m looking at you)

Don’t worry though, there are a lot of things you CAN do to make good trans rep. A few things that I think are good are:

- if your character has physically or medically transitioned in some way, reference that; it doesn’t require mentions of genitals. maybe someone has to shave their face more often, take injections, wear or not wear a binder

- treat transition as an ongoing processes rather than a single cathartic moment

- maybe the character has an odd or unusual name, or goes by many names in different contexts

- maybe the character has a dark past that may include some of the above, but now they are living healthily and happily; this is more important than never having gone through the above

- the character is likely to be sensitive to misgendering (eg. if they are a man, being mistaken for a woman or described in feminine terms)

- give the character dreams and goals outside of transitioning

- explore and respect the diversity of trans experiences; it is not as straightforward as being ‘a man/woman trapped in a woman/man’s body’ (and while we’re at it, not every trans person aggressively hates or is traumatised by their body - if you want more on dysphoria I can definitely talk about that but this is getting a bit long so I’ll press on for now)

- involve the characters in loving romantic relationships; trans people, and especially trans women, tend to be really hypersexualised (even when seen as simultaneously repulsive), not as complete beings with love lives (and/or regular, healthy sex lives that aren’t inherently perverted pornographic messes). mixing this up is refreshing

- don’t only have one trans character. not saying that you have to think up a whole gaggle of trans folk in detail, make trans mainstream in your mythical society, or have 3/9 squad members be trans or something, but for example, maybe the trans character lives out of home with other trans characters, or maybe if they are feeling isolated from other trans people over the course of the story, they seek out an environment where other trans people are and all they need to mention is “I went down to [known queer hangout] the other day” or “this is my new friend, [new trans person]”. maybe a character finds out this character is trans and goes “oh yeah, like aunt such and such.” I know the struggle as a writer that comes with trying to do everything in depth and well and all, so something like this is a good way to signal that trans people aren’t alone in your world - which is something that many of us feel irl

- and above all, give them ‘normal’ character storylines that don’t revolve around them being trans, and then weave the transness through, rather than treating transness as their entire plot/point of being.

There are some more articles here and here, I have heard this is good, and there is more and more coming out lately (eg this tag) which may help you from here. I am happy to give further advice or detail if you like, but I hope this is a good starting point for you!

[classicalafros67]

On Why I Refuse to Talk to My Grandmother

This is not meant to be educational. This is not meant to slander my grandmother. This is only meant to be therapeutic – a way to organize my thoughts and release my emotions in a healthy way. I want to note, before I begin, that I am talking to my grandmother, but only out of necessity, for logistical and business reasons, until we come up with a recompense or I have to cut her out of my life altogether. I’m not even sure that I am going to share this, but I still wanted to write it, so maybe for a time, my anger, bitterness and disappointment can be placed elsewhere.

Recently, I wrote this piece, didn’t really share, but I didn’t finish it either on an example of how my grandmother has treated me and continues to treats me.

“I feel like I’m a pretty outspoken person when it comes to talking about gender expression, sexuality, gender, feminism and activism, EXCEPT when it comes to my family. Living all as a queer and gender non-conforming African-American, living with ones (loosely) religious, judgmental and controlling family members is anything but easy. In fact, it’s fucking hard as hell, and I’m pretty sure it’s the base of all of my mental illnesses. I’ve grown up to be silent and speak when spoken to. I believe that my guardian (grandmother) believes that she must rule with an iron fist and control and repair me at any cost, so I can be properly digestible for society. As I’ve grown older, I’ve begun to heavily resent her as these repairs and plays for control are disguised as concern and unconditional love. Recently, it has gotten pretty rough between us. I resent having to go home, so I go out as often as possible either spending the night with my friends or my boyfriend in the city.

One of her plans to repair me (and by repair, I mean “masc me up”) was foiled this week when I spent most of it in the city with my boyfriend in order to get away from her. The car that we are currently sharing got a majorly avoidable flat tire. I agreed to help pay for a new tire, but she wanted me to watch the tire get changed?? I could always google, but, hey, what do I know I guess? So, like always, she got upset that I had not come home, (mind you, I am 22 years old, recently graduated from college, and working multiple jobs to move out of there) and had started calling up a storm and MARKING all of the locations I was at. (She forced me to get this app on my phone where she can track me. Again, I am 22 years old.) I eventually went home because she was holding the car hostage and refusing to get it fixed until I came back, knowing that I needed it to get to work.

She tells me that we need to talk, but every time I attempt to talk to her about anything heavy, my sexuality, how I express myself, gender expression, ect., it turns into her talking at me and justifying, for herself, how she feels and why she acts a certain way. I have always been bad at having these conversations with family, but I am tired of the way my grandmother treats me. I haven’t been talking to her for the past couple of days because I refuse to go to business as normal and move on like nothing is going on, and I’ve been making a list of reasons why I’m upset with her which has become… extensive.

This list is disorganized and mostly just the tip of an iceberg talking point that we need to settle. It overall encompasses her disguising her homophobia, embarrassment and desire to control and socialize me (i.e. other toxic behaviors) as concern and unconditional love. Her forcing me to get an app that allows her to track and mark everywhere I go is her ploy to keep me under control, yet she disguises this as a way for her to let me know that she is home when I could careless, and she ignores that I am old enough to go where I damn please, don’t do drugs, don’t smoke, don’t party, but “there is too much going on in the world right now, I just need to know where you are.” Ask me… This will also lead me to my next point on how I express myself. I like, no, I fucking love makeup. My fashion sense, as I’ve mentioned before extends from dad to literal queen mom. If I want to wear a suit, I’ll wear a suit, if I want to wear a dad outfit, I’ll work that. If I want to wear sweats all day, girl yes. If I want to wear high heels and a floral top, I will WORK that. And if I want to wear makeup with any of those outfits, I WILL! Can you guess which one grandma absolutely hates? She’s horrible at addressing things too, so she gets passive aggressive. She always has a snide comment about what I wear or my makeup and “how bad it is for [my] face.” Even today, she looked at my Facebook and demanded me to take down my cover and profile picture because I’m wearing a full face of makeup and a floral shirt and my cover photo is the pride flag with the male, female, and intersex signs. It got to the point where I blocked her because I can’t mentally handle all the controlling.

I don’t know. I think I just want her to admit that she’s embarrassed of me if nothing else, recognize that I’m only living here circumstantially, that I am still an adult that she can’t/shouldn’t try to control, and that we should really learn to live with each other.”

We did eventually sit down in the kitchen one late night as I returned home and attempted to express how I felt. I wanted the conversation to be an eye opener for her that she couldn’t police how a grown person could express themselves be it online or in real life. Instead, it turned into an interrogation about, “who molested you?” “where did we go wrong?” and fake tolerance. I just ended up having to face my grandmother, someone who I had deeply respected and revered, someone who helped me through college and through life when I moved out of my father’s house, express her homophobia and internalized misogyny towards me in words disguised as concern and worry.

“Why are you wearing makeup?”

“Boys don’t wear makeup”

“I thought you were doing it to get back at your daddy”

“I’m getting a handle on the whole gay thing. I’m getting a handle on the fact that one day you’re gonna bring a man home. But, now, this makeup is too much! And the clothes you’re wearing. And you’re growing out your hair…”

These are some of the words that were shared with me on that night. It has been a couple of weeks and the conversation still rings in my head back and forth. There are so many petty rebuttals I both wish, but am glad that I didn’t, say. I understand that you care so much about the products I buy and put on my face. I understand that the rules to this binary society so strongly holds on to and polices how one performs their assigned sex at birth. I understand that with that in mind that anything outside that expectation is therefore repaired, most commonly through violence. I especially understand the fragility of masculinity and how anything that easily breaks that line is met with violence.

But I also wish that my grandmother knew that she was and is inciting the violence that she’s afraid will be inflicted on me. Violence isn’t just physical. She understands that as my grandmother, she has a power of influence over me, but instead of using this power and seemingly unconditional love as a force for good, a force to uplift the grandchild and encourage them to be themselves unapologetically while advocating for a better and more accepting world to others, she uses this power to police, criticize and repair my expression, my sexuality, my identity.

Imagine the mental, emotional and psychological damage that inflicts on someone. Every article of clothing you wear – judged. The shoes you wear – judged. Growing, styling or curling your hair – judged. How you talk – judged. What you talk about – judged. Every little thing about you – judged and threatened with getting kicked out of the residence you live in.

“Well, as long as you live under my roof, I don’t want you wearing makeup or girl’s clothes.”

All of this violence inflicted, while the attacker continues to pretend that there is nothing wrong with the relationship, and sweeps everything under a giant rug. This violence which affects so many other queer youths. To tell you how bad it is, I have contemplated being homeless, even at VERY low times suicide, just to be away from her. This is horrible considering that despite the violence, I will love my grandmother no matter what, I would like to mend our relationship, and I feel so guilty for feeling that way. But I cannot possibly see that happening until she magically addresses her own problems and stop projecting her societal desires onto me and my siblings.

So, for now, until I am in a financial position to move out and never come back, I refuse to talk to her unless absolutely necessary. I refuse to pretend to be her friend. I refuse to pretend I can tolerate her being around me. I refuse to pretend that I’m not purposefully avoiding her as much as I can. I refuse to let her involve herself into my life for her to gossip and disapprove. I refuse to let that toxicity invade my life again, and I shall seek help and refuge where I can in continuing therapy and being with the family and friends who accept me and love me for exactly as I am.

Postscript—

I think in terms of making this a discussion, because I could use advice on how else I can move forward. Am I missing something in this situation? I’ve talked about this several times in real life with friends and family, and I keep getting the same answers — “She’s just worried about” “She’s stuck in her ways” “She’s your grandmother, she’s supposed to act that way” But I call absolute bullshit. People can change at ANY age from ANY era, and this situation, I feel is WAY more nuanced than her being worried about me. I’d rather her not die a bigot, so I want to open up ways that I can have discourse with her and show her tools to learn more about the LGBTQIA community.

[deathsmallcaps]

And it’s a fucking newborn’s body.

“Shit” you think, as it takes you effort to kick two legs at the same time.

You had always wondered whether you were just a soul lost in the cosmic paperwork. You never got an answer from your friends (because you usually only made permanent friends from the bodies that you inhabited for a day) about where they went when you occupied their space. They always just say they go to sleep and wake up two days later.

And while you get access to all the person’s memories while in their body, you never occupy the same one twice, so you can’t figure it out either.

Being born yesterday had been traumatizing enough. You’re know your gender isn’t female, and you especially don’t want to be one now, now that you saw the whole process of giving birth. Waking up yesterday within the womb had been scary. At least when you were born the people were nice. Your Mama (?) hugged and kissed and cuddled you, and your other Mom took lots of pictures and cuddled you too. Well, as much as they could with the nurses fussing about you. It was so tiring you fell asleep early. So honestly, not the worst day. Beats five weeks ago, getting caught in that hurricane in the Philippines. Or when you were a doctor last year, scheduled to do spine surgery.

But this? This was horrifying!

“Did I just kill somebody’s kid?!” You try to shout, but all that comes out is a wail. Your Mom hurried over, peering over into the incubator. And oh, great, looks like you were a little premature. You squirm uncomfortably, trusting to move your head, but you simply aren’t strong enough, and you brush up against all the wires monitoring you. It’s very uncomfortable against your very new, very soft skin.

You miss having callouses. You miss being able to MOVE. You’ve never been in a body this young - your very first day was spent as a little old person who was thought to get strange visions anyway, and so nobody was surprised when they started babbling. Wow, that must have been a couple thousand years ago now.

Your Mom’s voice drifts down to you. “It’s okay, Rosetta-“ oh great, you really were AFAB-ed. This sucks. “We’ll get you out of there soon! Mommy and Mama will make sure of that!”

You stare up at her, and try to smile. Best to get on her good side, you suppose, if you’ve finally gotten assigned a body. But also, you stare at her as critically as an infant can. You’re going to have to set some boundaries.

—————

You have gone stretches of a time without being able to contact your friends before. Most of your permanent ones had phones and such, but sometimes you’d go weeks without even seeing a computer. Honestly, you enjoyed those times - technology seemed to be going to fast for you to keep up with.

But you’re excited the first time you’re able to crawl out of the crib one night, and sneak over to where Mama finally left her tablet. You sign into your old-ass AOL email, and, with a painstaking amount of effort (tiny hands with limited coordination were NOT meant to be typing out long messages) email all your friends, explaining what had happened.

You would have called, but your mouth was even less articulate than your fingers, you explain. It’s been about two years now, and while you’ve honestly enjoyed all the attention you’ve gotten, you’re a little bit done with being babied.

Almost immediately, Khalil replies - he’s always on his phone.

“Dude!-“ he always just called you dude, you never really had a name until now, and you sure aren’t keeping Rosetta, “I’m so glad you’re alive. Me and a couple of others in the New York area have been keeping in touch, hoping to catch sight of ya, but I was starting to get scared you finally got offed inside of somebody’s body!”

“No, just became a baby. I need y’all to come and help me convince my moms that I am who I am. I’m afraid they’ll just say I’m babbling.”

“Don’t worry dude, I’ve got you. I’ll touch base with a couple others and we’ll come down to your address. I don’t think they’ll really want to talk to us, but we’ll make it happen.”

We set a date, and i exed out of my email and riddled back to bed.

Finally, I was going to come out to my parents as a millennia-old body-snatcher.

You’re a disembodied consciousness who wakes up every day in a new body. Today, for the first time, you wake up in the same body as yesterday.

[dat-town]

A love forgotten

Characters: Chanyeol & You

Setting: delirium au

Genre: angst

Summary: Living in a world in which love is prohibited, you are lucky enough if you get along well with your assigned spouse but falling in love with them? That’s the biggest mistake of all.

Words: 2.1k

For @lily-blue. I know you requested it a long time ago so sorry for the wait but I hope you like it!

Pain in the chest, throat, or stomach

Difficulty swallowing and breathing

Erratic behaviour

Violent thoughts and fantasies

Hallucinations and delusions

 These are the severe symptoms during the third phase of amor deliria nervosa, a deathly disease hunting for you from the moment you reach the verge of adulthood. You have been taught both in school and at home how to diagnose it and that you absolutely, without exception have to report it to authorities if you see anything suspicious that might be caused by this absolutely horrendous disease.

You saw the way it changed people, totally turned them inside out, you saw the damage it did on families and the society itself. Yet, you know nobody can feel themselves falling ill until it’s too late because of this delirious feeling heavy on their chest. It’s like cancer, spreading fast but rather than infecting your health, it’s affecting your brain and sanity. Once it gets you, you can’t think straight. That’s the only sensible reason for not caring about being sick, for thinking that being in love is a majestic and blissful emotion instead of begging for the cure. When you catch cold, you take vitamins and drink tea then why don’t you now? Why are you questioning the society and the core idea of its system?

Love is wrong. That's what they said and you believed it wholeheartedly, without doubt. You heard the stories and you were so afraid that it would cause your downfall, too. But now, with a three-pronged needle against your neck, you can't find it in you to deny this feeling. This mistrust against your own government, their methods and their lies.

Love is wrong, they told you but now, you know better.

 Just a month before getting the Cure, the mandatory brain surgery after you turn eighteen, you were notified who will be your future husband based on the evaluations of your government. The white envelope containing all kind of data of your future someone makes your throat close up in nervousness as you open is hastily. You take a big breath before pulling out the printed paper about your result, his results and the proof of your compatibility. Most of your approved matches ranked with 8 points out of 10 just like you did during your evolutions so obviously, you thought that the "winner" would one of those guys. However, your heart skips a beat when you see the name of the 7 points guy. Park Chanyeol.

The name itself is familiar; you don’t even have to check on his picture to know who he is. You know him from Chemistry class. He’s tall, smart, looking a bit nerdy with his thick framed glasses but utterly cute when his ears redden in embarrassment. He’s a nice guy, he will probably get a good job and you two can buy a pretty house in a nice neighbourhood. The perfect husband. Not like you had any say in it but you were okay with your chosen one and you hoped he feels the same.

Little did you know that Chanyeol had been sick ever since you helped him pick up a few dropped books in the corridors and looked into his eyes with your mouth curved into a shy smile...

 Boys and girls are segregated from birth in everyday life. The government doesn't like taking risks so they try to minimize every possible interaction between the opposite genders. However, your town, being pretty small, only has one high school and one Chemistry teacher so an all-boy and all-girl class is hardly an economically reasonable thing to do. It doesn't really matter anyway. The surveillance system keeps an eye on the students and the principle basically knows everything you do so it isn't possible to even talk with guys outside of the class without teachers accompanying you to the head teacher's office.

So meeting and actually talking with Chanyeol outside of class was a first when your parents set up a date for you after the announcement of your match. Since both of you were scheduled to go to university based on your points, your wedding’s date was set after your bachelor degree graduation. It seemed like a long time but you were glad that you would have time to adjust to a life with him before actually marrying him. Not that you had any other choice. There was no such thing as breaking up or divorcing in a world like yours. Those scary words only existed in rumours because all of these worthless, painful feelings were washed away by one single stink of a needle. No more sweaty palms and erratic heartbeat waiting for a boy to arrive and sit down with you over a nice dinner.

Real salvation.

You wore your prettiest dress with a purple ribbon around it but ended up being so embarrassed about putting so much effort into this that you left your hair messy just to compensate. However, Chanyeol arrived in a suit and with a bouquet of flowers and he was being a blabbering, blushing mess as he couldn’t find the words to compliment your outfit. "Thanks," you smile at him shyly, saving him from further suffering. Both of you were so nervous, however, while Chanyeol could barely utter a sentence to order food, you couldn’t shut up. You went on and on about childhood memories, future plans, favourite activities and interests and finding out that you did actually have a lot in common was kind of nice.  He started to open up when you talked about music and you enjoyed breaking down his shell. Going on a few dates with him before being officially paired up by some authority was maybe your parents’ best idea ever. By the time, you asked for the bill, you were far from being awkward strangers.

"Can... When can I see you again?" Chanyeol asked and even though he towered over you in height, it didn't feel belittling at all. The way he looked down at you, the stars glittering in his orbs made you want to stand up to your toes and… And what? The thought itself was ridiculous.

"Tomorrow. At Chemistry," you smiled cheekily, nibbling on your lower lip and the boy laughed light-heartedly but genuine. He had a really nice laugh, you mused with your heart pounding. "You know what I mean," he pouted and you giggled. Of course, you knew.

So for the next date, Chanyeol brought a guitar and he took you to the park to have a picnic. It was perfect and for the time being, you had the name of your evaluators in your prayers because you were really grateful. The pair of you two really fit. Still, you didn't talk about marriage and other ‘important’ stuff but both of you enjoyed each other’s company. Even your acquaintances said you are a match made in heaven. So why did the compliment taste bitter for you?

The answer didn't come easy but eventually you had to accept the truth: that you didn't want your relationship being fabricated by laws and regulations. You wanted spontaneity, real feelings and ah, the fantasies of a young adult. You were being selfish for wanting all that.

But you were not the only one selfish…

“Do you think everybody feels like this?” you dared to ask The Question out loud while leaning onto Chnyeols frame during a movie. You could feel his bony body going rigid under yours and your breath hitched as his was trembling.

“Like what?” he wanted to know the details, asking carefully not to scare you but the big question marks in the air were already doing their job. You mind ran overdrive: What if he will report you for acting strangely, for talking about feelings, for getting intimate and holding his hand during the family dinner last time? But the scariest question of them all: what if he doesn't feel the same?

Maybe it was really the sickness, this panicky feeling choking you and suddenly, you couldn’t breathe. Tears pricking your eyes you had to stand up, detaching your body from Chanyeol’s and you wanted to run very far away.

But just before you could get away from him, Chanyeol grabbed you by the elbow and gently tugged back to face him. You looked down bashfully, not being able to meet his eyes, not until you felt his breath fanning over your cheek.

“You meant this fever every time we touch? Or the flowers that bloom in my heart just by seeing you smile? Or maybe the dreams about you and missing you even if I just saw you?” he whispered against your hot skin and you couldn't help but shiver. Your heart was screaming yes, yes, yes eagerly but you felt like fainting because your brain knew you shouldn't have felt this way. Something unexplainable took over you and pressing closer, you brushed your lips against his feeling the touch of a kiss (something only Cured people are allowed to do) and ah, breaking the rules has never tasted so sweet.

 You were in love, you didn’t even wanted to deny it but the society wouldn’t ever accept that. So you planned to run away with Chanyeol, living outside of the walls, in the land of Invalids and Uncureds. You were supposed to act like you were nothing more but an assigned couple until the day of your surgery came. The Cure that would taken your feelings away. Once it seemed like salvation, now it was a nightmare. You didn’t want to lose this, whatever it was you and Chanyeol had.

Your escape plan was perfect: meeting up for a dinner the day before your big day, because it was nothing surprising by now and then, just before curfew you would take a walk around the neighbourhood. When the clock hit ten, you both would have grabbed your stuff and made a run for it. Together for a now life.

No matter how careful you were, somebody was bound to notice the changes, you just didn't expect your own sister betraying you like this. Calling the guards on you just before your date.

“No, please, I swear I’m not sick,” you shrieked at the guards grabbing and tossing you towards the door. Ugly sobs shook your whole body.

“How could you?” you yelled at you sibling standing in the corridor holding the backpack you prepared for running away in her hands.

“It’s for your good. You are sick, they will cure you. Everything will be fine,” she tried to soothe you, eyes sad and disappointed, but it only mad you want to throw up.

“No! You might just kill me with this,” you were mumbling as they took you away to force the procedure on you.

 The hospital is ugly and smells weird. The room’s wall are white where you are and tied to a chair you sit still while doctors and guards are gathering around you. It's almost funny, six adult men making sure that you don't do anything stupid with your 154cm. You have no idea what they are waiting for, not until the door burst open and they bring Chanyeol in, too.

“No,” you scream helplessly watching as they tie the drugged boy to the chair next to you just like they did with you. You can barely move but you manage to grab his hands and that makes him turn towards you. You see your own emotions mirrored in his grieving dark eyes as you try to fight back but it’s in vain. You are outnumbered by the guards holding you down firmly, not letting you go as the doctors work.

“I love you,” Chanyeol confesses suddenly, but with his cracked voice it sounds more like a goodbye.

“I love you, too,” you turn your head towards him, tears already rolling down your face.

You are holding hands, as tightly as you can while the surgeons inject the serum into both of your skin, just under your right ears. Your heart is beating like a drum, panicked, excited, sad and in love. Yet, they just call you lovesick and want to cure you. What cure, you laugh dryly as you let your hand fall and welcome the darkness.

 Next time you open your eyes, the void of feelings greets you, the absolute emptiness and looking at the boy still asleep next to you feels like meeting a stranger. With hazy memories you glance around the hospital room, hand itchy and when you look down on it you see one single scribbled sentence written with ink on your palm.

Please, fall in love with him again.

Huh, what a stupid, dangerous thing to write, you think to yourself and hurry to wash it down before anybody sees. Too bad you can’t erase it from your mind whenever you look into your fiancé’s emotionless eyes.