#so what do i do? nothing... just avoid looking or reading or thinking about trans men on T until it passes

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[asdfghjklartblog]

Vermillion

Trans masc reader x yandere batfam

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (here)

Hello! Sorry this took a bit longer, but the chapter is also longer than usual so hopefully it makes up for it! So this is like almost exactly 7.4k words so take a little break, grab a drink and maybe some tissues because I cried while writing this one. I’m also generally an emotional person so that’s not saying a lot tbh. Anyways have fun!

Tw: Neglect, Slight gore, Obvious favouritism

——————————

There’s no other way to say it, Jason’s been following you around both in and out the manor. But considering you’re a homebody who does nothing but go to school, read and write fanfics, draw commissions and whatnot, it was pretty damn easy to just follow you around. At first you found it unsettling, even you, a daddy’s girl didn’t hang around your daddy that much. But he grew on you, like how ivy grows along the side of a building. You guys get to talking and you two realise that you lived close to each other before you were taken in by Bruce. Which is both a pleasant and sad surprise. You love Jason, he was your family just like Luke.

You don’t know what’s going on with Dick per se, but you heard through the grapevine that he’s studying to be a cop in Bludhaven. He comes back home sometimes, well more rarely than anything but whatever. It’s not like it’s your problem. The two of you still have nothing in common, and he still finds your doujinshi and your obsession with anime a bit… Weird but he doesn’t say anything anymore. And considering that the two of you are older now, you don’t out right avoid or fight each other anymore. Mostly because he’d kick your ass.

Bruce is… Different. Not in a bad way but, he feels more unsure? Whatever Dick and Bruce fought about, you could tell that Bruce was still grumpy about it. I mean who could blame him? Dick was his favourite, his golden child, the one he wanted, the one he chose. You try not to think about it, because it hurts. And then it hurts more as you start to spiral and if it gets too bad you start feeling sick. But it’s fine. You’re fine. This is fine. Bruce is getting closer to Jason, it kinda makes your heart clench as you see their relationship progress. Jason tried to invite you to spend time with them but you knew Bruce would be uncomfortable, and you’d probably be throwing up less than a minute in from anxiety.

However you started thinking about being trans masc, at least that’s what you remember it being called. ‘Cause Robin was probably right. She has a knack for sensing these kinds of things. She helps you look into where to get HRT and how the process works. However the problem was getting permission from Alfred and Bruce to get the treatment. You don’t necessarily think it’d be a big deal but Alfred was old. He doesn’t seem like the type of man to be transphobic but, you never know. But Bruce? You weren’t too sure about him. On one hand he’s a respectful and good man. On the other hand he is a man and a playboy, so honestly the odds didn’t look too good.

The first person you come out to is well, Robin. Obviously. Well I mean she already knew so was it really coming out? It’s more like she was waiting for you to come out of the see-through a glass closet. However the second person is by complete accident. You see, you were tutoring Eric in Algebra. You didn’t have a choice, you were volunteering as a tutor and you couldn’t just refuse a person without a good cause. You were explaining polynomials to him and he just suddenly throws his head back and groans. “Ugh, this is so fucking gay. What do we even fucking need this for.”

And you replied without thinking. You chuckle before saying. “Yeah just like me.”

The both of you freeze before he just slowly turns to you and asks. “Dude, you serious?”

You lean back against the chair’s backrest and sigh. “Yeah.”

He then waits a beat before saying. “So like, you like women? You like pussy?”

You almost choke on the laughter that just bubbled out which he just looks at you weirdly for. You catch your breath and try to clear up the confusion. “Sorry, I don’t know why but that was really funny to me. But uh, maybe? I’m not sure yet. But I mean that I’m a man that likes other men.”

You can see that Eric needed to connect the dots, and you know he’s got it when his eyebrows shot up and he lets out a little. “Oh.”

You nod and say. “Yeah, I found out like a year ago but didn’t have time to delve into it at the time.”

He then nods, letting out a small hum. He sits up straight before looking at you and just says. “I think I like guys too.”

Your neck slowly turns to him and you raise an eyebrow at that before sassily turning back to the textbook and replying with. “Ew, that’s so gay.”

He immediately turns to you with a flabbergasted look on his face. You try your best to keep your smile down but he can tell. He punches your shoulder playfully before saying. “Fuck off man, piece of shit gay boy.”

You answer back with. “Pot calling the kettle black.”

Eric rolls his eyes and the two of you chuckle before a calm silence fills the room again. After a few moments he gets serious and saying. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

You look at and you can clearly tell that he’s nervous about what you’re about to say. You let him stew in his anxiety a little longer before giving him an answer. “I won’t, I promise.”

He releases a breath that he kept down in his anxiousness. Eric then says. “Hey, if you ever want like help to make your body bigger or whatever, I can help. I mean I am on the football team and run defense!”

You smile at him in a way that looks like you’re playing around with him like a cat toying around with a mouse. “Yeah? You got any moves to show me?”

His eyes widen almost comically as he immediately turns red, the freckles on his face barely visible because of it. He then tries to laugh it off before saying. “Wow! I am beat! I think I’m gonna go now.”

You look at the time and you say in a confused tone of voice. “Eric we still have like more than hour of studying-“

But he’s already packing his things and rushing out the entrance of library. You sigh and start to pack your own things before you notice some blonde dude in a trench coat. You felt someone’s eyes on you before, and you kinda feel like it might be that guy. It’s pretty quiet in the library and despite there being more than enough seats, he sits right in front of you. He flashes you a charming smile and when you look at him, he reminds you so much of Daddy. He’s also got the scruffy stubble on his jaw and above his lips. He then says with a scouse accent. “Hello, my name’s John Constantin-“

You interrupt him and loudly say. “Sir, I am underage.”

A few heads turn and he sighs then chuckles before saying. “Cheeky little thing aren’t you.”

You shrug before starting to pack up. He then looks you up and down before asking. “Mind telling me about something kid?”

You groan and ask him. “What? What the hell do you want? Why are you, as the people from where you live would say, gegging in?”

He raises an eyebrow before he asks. “You know scouse?”

You reply with. “I looked it up and watched a couple videos on it late at night. Kinda stuck to my brain for some reason.”

He nods before saying. “Makes sense. Now tell me, you seen any owls lately?”

Your heart skips a beat but you’re able to maintain your cool as you finish packing up, you then reply with. “Not really, I mean owls are hard to find in gotham not many trees and all that.”

He eyes you up and down before saying. “Don’t lie kid, it won’t do you any good.”

You get up and glare at him before saying. “Go fuck yourself.”

He smirks before sarcastically calling out as you walk away. “We actually say ‘sod off’ but nice try!”

You rush out of the library and go home. What the hell was that, and how did he know about the owl in your dreams? You haven’t told anyone except Luke. Maybe you shouldn’t have just blown the guy off. You sigh as you think about it a bit more, but you’re tired from studying and just wanna have dinner and then go to bed. The dreams stop for a while after that, letting you sleep peacefully.

You start to do better in your classes for some reason, it’s definitely not the result of you now sleeping restfully and exercising with Eric. But after you start seeing the results, seeing the muscle on your arms and your back and whatnot, leaves you feeling amazing. It even gives you the confidence boost to come out to Luke who just says. “Yeah, I kinda guessed. Either that or you were some kinda freak.”

You pushed him playfully after he said that. He laughs and throws one arm around your shoulder and ruffles your hair. He sighs, as he goes back to lie down on the grass. The two of you are just hanging out on the grass as the two of you look at the stars. He then hums before saying. “You know, I can’t believe it’s been 10 years since we met. I still remember when you barely came to my waist, and now you’re just an inch above my shoulder! Absolutely insane.”

After he says that you sigh, you start to tear up as you say. “You know how I have trouble remembering stuff? I… I’m starting to forget my memories with my daddy. And I don’t want to forget. I try to write them down but, I can only remember general things. I can’t remember what was there, what we were doing-“

Luke interrupts you gently, and say in a low voice. “I know it’s scary. I had the same fears as you did when I started to realise that I couldn’t remember Monchi, my first dog. You want me to tell you about him?”

You close your eyes as you listen to him talk, he talks about how Monchi died when he was barely 6, and that he was a small pug that was also kinda fat. How the dog loved napping the most, and loved sleeping on Luke the best. How the dog loved those bacon treats you would always see on the commercials. You laugh and the two of you decide to keep a journal of your most precious memories.

One day you realise that you haven’t told Jason yet, and but figured that he probably wouldn’t know about any of that stuff so you put it off. However as you turn 16 you think that you should probably tell Alfred sooner than later. When you tell Alfred and he smiles gently as he says. “You are very brave for telling me. And I thank you for trusting me enough to tell me miss- no, master y/n. Excuse me but it will take some time before I ingrain this information into my memory.”

You nod and then continue as you say. “I was actually hoping that you could help me with something? I-I really want to get HRT, and I need Bruce’s consent to do that. I was really hoping you could maybe convince him? I just I’m scared of telling him myself.”

Alfred looks at you sadly before nodding and says. “How about we tell him now? He has an opening right now, and since he stayed home today, you can tell him face to face.”

You panic and reply with a stammer. “N-No that’s okay really I can wai-“

Alfred then starts to drag you towards the lion’s den and Jesus, this old man is strong, what the hell. He then knocks on the door, and you’re hoping, praying to god that Bruce says he’s busy. However you hear Bruce call out. “Come in!” When both you and Alfred enter, Bruce raises an eyebrow, he’s probably thinking ‘What did she do now?‘ Alfred then says to Bruce. “Master y/n had some news to tell you. Nothing bad, good news actually.”

You then blurt out a tad bit too loud. “I’m trans. A-And I like men. And I think I like girls?”

Alfred and Bruce stare at you in complete silence. Thankfully, Bruce interrupts the awkward silence with. “Congratulations. Is there.. Anything else?”

You take a deep breath and ask. “Can you sign the consent form for the HRT treatment?”

Bruce nods and then goes back to work. That was super anticlimactic. But at least you got permission! Over the next month you and Bruce fills out all the forms and you’re overjoyed! Everything is great you’re voice is getting deeper, you’re growing even taller, you started getting chest hair among… Other things. But overall this is great!

One day at school, you’re studying in the library in the little corner where nobody can see you when you overhear some people making fun of you. You don’t really care though, you’ve made your peace with how weird you are. However their topic then changes to Jason.

A boy says. “Have you seen that kid? He doesn’t deserve to be here, he’s alley trash! He should be back on the street with that slut of a mother he has.”

They giggles like it’s the funniest thing in the world, it grates on your ears. Another girl continues, saying. “Oh my god! Nick you can’t say that! But really, how is he getting good grades? Maybe his mom taught him a thing or two!”

You’re frozen in place, you can’t believe what you’re hearing. It feels vile, disgusting and you feel like tearing out the very throats that are assaulting your ears.

Another girl joins in and says. “We should get him to get kicked out of the school! Maybe we could make look like he’s harassing us or something? Oh! We could make it seem like he’s taking advantage of us!”

You get up. You’ve heard enough. As you walk to where the girls are, you feel red hot anger going through your veins. You get to where they are, and hearing their cruel suggestions laughter grates on your nerves. You walk right up to them, getting up close and personal before growling. “What the fuck did you say?”

The girls look at you as if you were a piece of gum on the sole of their shoe, the boy looks at you with a smirk as if to challenge you. The boy pushes you away and says. “Oh, look! It’s bloody mary, what are you doing here? Did you hear what we said? You’re lucky it isn’t you we’re targeting. At least half of you is worthy of being here.”

You glare at them before getting right up in the boy’s face again, you brush your hair back and stand up straighter and saying. “If you don’t fucking shut up, and mind your business. If I see any of you near my little brother, it’s on fucking sight. You understand me? I’ll fucking get teachers involved, the police, your parents, I’m dragging you all down.”

The guy scoffs and pushes you away before saying. “You and what army? Everyone in school knows that Bruce doesn’t care about yo-“

He doesn’t get to finish that sentence as you uppercut him. He stumbles a bit before he collapses onto the floor, unconscious. Then you look at the girls and hiss. “Either you stop whatever the fuck you’re planning, or I come back with more than just my fucking fists”

The girls look at each other and nod hesitantly. You leave them be as you go back to your little corner in the library. You then pack up your things and leave, way too angry to study. So you just go to the cafeteria, where you see Jason happily eating with his friends. You start to calm down and smile stupidly as you see him safe and happy, he notices you staring and mouthes the words. “Stop looking at me.” You chuckle as you turn away to scroll on your phone.

You were called to the principal’s after that, but there was no video evidence to prove that showed that you knocked out with whatever that guy’s name was. It’s not that it was edited out, it just messed up during the time you were there. Weird. But since there was no evidence saying otherwise you got suspended and this time it was put on record. Bruce was disappointed in you but to fair when wasn’t he? Jason heard what you did and spent the week you were just hanging out with you and giving you random hugs. Which didn’t really bother you, you liked the physical affection. And after so long of barely having any, it feels nice. You assume it’s the same for Jason. Not that his situation was the same as yours but you know.

You always try and let Jason come to you, like a cat. Cause sometimes he just gets really shy or standoffish about physical affection, probably trying to unconsciously defend himself or something. It’s a bit hard to restrain yourself though when he’s so cute, you even get cuteness aggression from just seeing him. And thank god for Alfred feeding this boy, because in less than a year he’s in the target weight for his size and age and now he’s got these cute chubby cheeks and you just love pinching them. He absolutely hates it though. And sometimes you have this urge to just… Sit on him though? It’s so weird. Like you wish you were a giant cat or something so you could lie on top of him so he’d be warm, toasty and safe under you.

Now you’re 17, and usually you don’t celebrate your birthday, but since Luke came back from his tour in Afghanistan, and Jason saying that it could be fun, led the two of you to baking your own cake in the kitchen. So with Alfred’s permission and under his watchful eye, you guys bake a cake. You brought out the ingredients you needed out from the pantry and fridge, Jason was in charge of mixing things together and Luke was making sure the oven was preheated and then started to make the (kind of frosting you like). You take out the cake molds and ask the two of them. “How many layers should we make and how big should we make it? And another question, what flavour of cake would you guys prefer?”

Luke shrugs and says. “I’m fine with anything. I ain’t picky.”

Jason thinks about it for a moment before saying. “Mango, or maybe we could make like an earl grey cake?”

You respond with. “We’re doing (favourite cake flavour).”

Luke rolls his eyes while he smiles, he looks to Jason and says. “Whenever I get a slice cake for him, he always chooses that flavour. I don’t even know why I bother to even ask at this point.”

Jason snickers at that while you huff and say. “It’s my favourite flavour. If you got a problem with it then take it up with management.”

Luke chuckles at that, and all of you continue to do the tasks you assigned each other. You guys laughed and joked around while making your cake. Then you guys put the cake mix in the oven, while it bakes the three of you go into the living room to play video games, you guys play (favourite game), and you let Jason play too. But he keeps making the wrong decisions so you and Luke end up backseat gaming and spoiling everything almost everything. While Jason is playing, Luke looks you up and down he notices something. “Shit, y/n. What has Alfred been feeding you? And where did you get all this muscle from? You look good, man.”

Your smile brightens up and you nod at him, saying. “Thanks, the HRT has been helping me build more muscle mass, I’m getting more hair too, but the mood swings are rough man. Like I switch from violently angry to violently…” You look at Jason and see that he’s still playing the game but decide to not say what you were thinking. “Excited.”

Luke makes grimaces and pushes your face away with one hand. “Gross. Did not need to know that.”

You chuckle and then you ask. “Is it normal to get butt hair?”

Luke shrugs and says. “I mean I guess, some of my friends back during my tour had ass hair. I accidentally caught a glimpse when I hit the showers a bit late from doing extra burpees the sergeant assigned for me.”

You nod and then ask him. “Was it because the sergeant was homophobic?”

Luke looks at you confused and says. “I’m not gay.”

Which makes you smile but you try to stifle it as you continue to talk. “Yeah you are, you’re so gay. You fuck dudes left and right.”

He groans and the replies with. “I am helping you with both your schoolwork and making your fucking cake, and you’re seriously gaslighting me into believing that I’m gay?”

You laugh at that and then school your face and with your best brooding face and Bruce voice, you say. “Fox. You are gay. You are-“ and then you do the gay limp wrist thing.

Luke busts out laughing at that, and then starts to cough as he says. “What the fuck.”

You smile back at him and then see Jason doing something that requires concentration you, then start to practically lay on top of him as you say. “Ugh, gravity is increasing on me Jason.”

He tries to push you off and he almost does because he’s actually pretty damn strong surprisingly. He starts to get annoyed and says. “No it isn’t!!”

You nonchalantly reply. “It is too, Jason. Same thing happened yesterday.”

He groans and growls. “NO!” After losing the concentration game. He lets out another groan before pushing you off and saying. “Get your fat ass off of me!”

You laugh as you get off of him but then before he can even move you pull him onto your lap and start hugging him tightly which makes him groan even louder before struggling to get you off. That made you laugh and you eventually pull away from him, he goes back to playing his game and you sit there and wonder as you look at both Luke trying to help Jason with the game. Do they even know how much they matter to you? Do they know you’d kill for them? That you’d get your hands bloody and bruised for them? Would they do the same for you, you ask yourself. Would they love you and protect you just as fiercely? You then turn back to the TV and decide to enjoy this little piece of heaven.

The three of you eventually get back into kitchen and ice and decorate the cake together. It’s a bit lopsided, but it’s yours. And that is what makes it perfect. You guys watch (fav comfort movie) while you guys eat the cake. You guys all sleep in your room that night, having a little sleepover together.

In the morning you see that Jason is gone, you yawn and get up to go find him. You see his bedroom light is open and for some reason, you have this gut feeling. It tells you to be quiet, to peek into Jason’s room. Your brows furrow and you decide to trust your gut. You gently move the door, and peer into Jason’s room. You see Jason is changing. Gross. But as you’re about to close the door you see scars and bruises littering his torso. You freeze and decide to keep watching, why the hell does he have those? You’re almost absolutely sure he’s not getting bullied. You’ve made sure of that. So where did those marks come from? It can’t be Bruce, he might not love you, but he definitely loves Jason. And he isn’t the person to do that, you know it. It can’t be Alfred, he’d rather chop his arm off than hurt any of us. So who?

You then barge in, making Jason jump. Before he can say anything, you march up to him and pointing at the large purple bruise on his ribs you growl out. “What happened? Why the hell are you this scratched up and hurt? I know it isn’t from school and it not from-“

He tries to placate you by looking up at you with apologetic eyes and gently saying. “Y/n-“

You glare at him and say. “Don’t you fucking,” You then mimic the way he said your name and then continue. “I asked you a question and you better tell me the damn truth. I can read you like a fucking book Jason Peter Todd, don’t fucking play with me.”

Jason looks at you in the eyes and then looks to the ground. He sighs and says. “I’m in an underground fighting ring.”

You raise an eyebrow and roll your eyes before snarkily saying. “Yeah? Why the fuck is there cuts and slash scars on your skin then.”

He replies scoffs and mockingly says. “There’s a reason it’s called underground, there’s no rules.”

Your eyes widen at his attitude and you glare at him as you continue. “Don’t take that tone with me, boy. I may not be your father or mother but I am still still an elder.”

Jason looks at you with an unimpressed look and says. “You are three years older than me you are NOT and elder.”

You respond with. “Who made you the elder expert.”

Jason crosses his arms before growling. “No one. You’re just so unqualified that it’s clear to everyone.”

You’re about to respond to him again when you realise he’s trying to distract you. You then take a breath to calm down before saying. “Okay. Whatever. That’s not important. I’m just. Tell me the truth Jason, please. I’m your older brother, if you can’t trust me, who can you trust? I love you, very much. I promise I won’t be mad. I just want to know.”

Jason looks into your eyes before he sighs. He looks around the room before he gestures for you to lean in close. You do so giving him your ear, he then whispers into your ear. “Go fuck yourself.”

You pull away and groan in indignation before growling. “Fine! Keep your secrets! But don’t come to me when you need help.”

You march out of his room and accidentally slam his door, unaware that you practically broke the door and the wall around it. Why the fuck wouldn’t he tell you? Especially if he’s getting hurt from it! You can help, you’d do whatever he needs. You stop in your tracks and you know, that if you walk away now, you’re giving him a chance to cover his tracks. You’re giving him a chance to shut you out from… Whatever he’s going through. You groan, being a good big brother is hard. You start walking back and gently knocking on his door. The door falls over and you let out a surprised little noise. You see he’s staring at you before he turns away and puts his chin in his hand.

You take a deep breath and go to sit next to him. You sigh and you hesitantly put your hand on his shoulder. “Jason. Just… Please? Please just tell me what’s going on? Are you being bullied or something? Are you really going to some underground fighting ring? If so I’m not letting you go, at least not alone. Jason you’re my little brother. You and Luke are the only family I have-“

Jason blurts out. “I’m Robin.”

You freeze. You look at him incredulously and ask. “What?”

Jason also looks surprised. He then looks away and then turns back to you. “I- That was a joke.”

You look closer at Jason and you absolutely know he was telling the truth just now. You stand up and start pacing around the room before you come to a realisation. “Bruce… Bruce is..?”

Jason looks away, and that tells you everything you need to know. Everything starts to click together. Bruce is fucking Batman. Fucking Bruce?! Oh my god that’s why Batman can get all those gadgets. It makes total sense! And that means Dick was… Oh my god Dick was the former Robin, holy shit. What the fuck. You look at Jason and you want yell, scream, punch, not because you’re angry at him, but because you’re livid at Bruce for allowing this. They’re just kids! Jason hugs you from behind, startling you from your thoughts and says. “You aren’t mad, are you?”

You turn to look at him and gently cup his cheeks before saying. “No. No, I could never be mad at you. It’s not your fault. But Bruce-“

He holds your hands and puts them down before saying. “Bruce is doing his best. He’s been helping us. You saw how angry and how he’d used to be so angry.”

You then argue with him. “He’s still angry!”

Jason rolls his eyes and continues. “And I’ve been learning to control myself. I just, please. I like doing this. I get to help people-“

You raise your voice, not at him, but because you’re trying to plead for him to see things your way. “You can help people in different ways! You can volunteer-“

He then shouts as he looks deep into your eyes. “You know that’s not enough! Look at us! Look at why we’re here. It’s because it’s never enough. Look at how they dismissed your dad’s murder so easily! They closed the case in less than a month! Something was clearly going on there!”

You turn away from him, putting one hand on your waist and using the other to pinch the bridge of your nose. Jason continues and says. “If that really worked, neither of us would’ve been adopted by Bruce-“

You try to walk away from him but he quickly blocks your path and grabs your wrist. “Y/n please, it’s for the good of-“

“But what about you? I know you think it’s good, but is it? You’re 13-“

He interrupts and says. “I’m turning 14-“

You sarcastically say. “Yeah because that makes a WORLD of difference, yeah, sorry I didn’t realise you could pay your taxes and shit Mr. 14 year old.”

Jason’s hold on your wrist tightens and he argues. “Whatever! Look this is my choice-“

You interrupt him this time. “Really? Because to me it looks like Bruce is being insane, carless and-“

Jason growls back. “You take that back y/n-“

“No! This is actually insane Jason, he is making you fight people like the fucking killer clown, that scarecrow dude with the fear gas-“

“It’s actually a toxin-“ He grumbles under his breath, but you hear it. All this back and forth is driving you up the wall. You finally snap and start yelling.

“WHO THE FUCK CARES JASON THE FACT IS THAT YOU SHOULD BE SAFE, YOU SHOULD BE HERE, HAVING FUN, BEING A KID, NOT HAVING THE WORLD OR PEOPLE’S LIVES ON YOUR-“

You then realise that he’s looking at you scared, his hands are even shaking. You remember what he said about his dad. How he used to yell and beat him when he got drunk. You know this. You promised him you’d never yell at him, that you’d always love and care for him. Listen to him. But right now you’re yelling. You’re yelling at your baby brother, it doesn’t matter what you’re saying, or whether you meant to or not. You still yelled at him. Guilt floods your systems and the anger in your chest has changes into a heavy weight in the pit of your stomach. You slowly reach for him as you gently call his name but he smacks your hand away and runs out the room. You feel awful, how could you do that to him? You were angry and frustrated but you know better. You’re his safe house, you’re supposed to protect him. You turn around and try to chase after him but you bump into Luke. Seeing your panicked state and wide eyes he looks at you worried and asks. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

You’re about to say exactly what happened but, it’s his secret. It’s not your place to tell. You’re angry, but you aren’t stupid. This isn’t a secret you can just tell, you might trust Luke but Jason doesn’t know him as well as you do. You sigh and just give him a general overview of what just happened. Luke looks at you sadly and says. “Maybe you should give him some time-“

In a panicked tone you trip over your words but manage to get out. “But I- I have to apologise, I need to- I need to fix this! Luke, I’m supposed to-“

He grabs your shoulders and says. “Calm down. I know you’re scared that this will drive a wedge between you two, and honestly it might. I’m not gonna lie, but I also know that you both love each other a lot. You two are like two peas in a pod, partners in crime, however you wanna say it. He knows you didn’t mean to hurt him, of course you should still apologise but… Yeah just. Give him some space. He’ll come around-“

You then pause and then weakly say. “And what if he doesn’t? What if he decides I’m-“

Luke rolls his eyes and then says. “And what if you explode tomorrow. Look, it’s going to be fine. I know it.”

So you wait. And wait. And wait. Two whole weeks passes of him avoiding you. You try to talk to him but he always leaves without a word. It hurts. The knowledge that you hurt him so badly that he won’t talk to you, makes your heart twist with frustration at yourself. You try your best to give him space, but as the days pass it gets harder and harder to stay put. Especially when you know what he’s doing at night.

You have a dream again, maybe because you’re stressed. But this feels worse. You wake up, lying down on the beach. You get up with a groan and see you’re at the same beach that your other dreams took place in. However this time you see foot prints all over the beach. Some of them bird like, some of them look like normal human foot prints. And some of them look… Unnatural. You stand there looking around before you hear a soft crying behind you. It has an owl mask, you kneel onto the floor and ask the kid. “Hey, what’s wrong-“

She mumbles something you don’t catch. You pause and try to ask her to repeat herself when she repeats what she says. You barely catch what she says so you ask again. She whispers. “It hurts.”

Before you can ask what hurts she repeats herself a bit louder. “It hurts.”

You start to see where this is going so you start to back off but bump into another child as you walk backwards. You recognise this one is a boy and at the same time they repeat the words ‘It hurts’. You try to back away from them but you only find two more children blocking your way. Every time you turn away, more of them appear. They’re all different, all shapes and sizes, the only common factor between these kids are the fact all of them seem to be under 15.

They keep repeating the phrase, and with every time they say it they grow louder. You try to cover your ears but it does nothing. They’re surrounding you now, they’re screaming, pleading for you to help them, to save them. You feel your pants being tugged and that’s when you see that more kids are coming up from the sand. But they’re not climbing up, no, they’re pulling you down. The sand beneath your feet start to loosen, making it that much easier for them to pull you down with them. You try to pry then off you but like a hydra every kid you pry off, three more take it’s place. You scream for them to let you go, but none of them listen. You start to see flashes of visions, of children and needles, of people in masks, of a dark ballroom and an altar on the other side of the room. The sand is up to your waist now, numerous small hand clawing at your skin, leaving trails of blood in their wake. Their hands start to reach your face, their hands covered in your blood as they clamour to drag you into sand, grabbing and scratching where they can reach. The sand is now right under your chin. You get your hand free to try to pry yourself out, but it doesn’t work. The last thing you see is an owl as your mouth and lungs start to fill with sand.

You wake up with a gasp and start coughing out sand, you run to your bathroom sink as you throw up more sand as well at last night’s dinner. You hear someone coming into your room, and in your panicked state you grab the soap dispenser. As the person tries to come in you swing at him, the person dodges and you let out an animalistic growl and follow the person. Your eyes are unfocused and you can barely see, it’s like you can see enough to move but not enough to recognise anything. You hear something, like someone’s talking, but it’s so muddled that it seems like distorted noise. You swing again and the person dodges again, but you catch them off guard as you throw it straight at their face which nearly hits the intruder’s, but instead it hits the wall behind him. You tackle the stranger but they use that force against you and throws you onto the ground. They pin you to the ground with great difficulty as you groan and growl like an animal, the intruder then jumps off you and makes a run to your bed. You follow and as you’re grabbing and lifting you’re the brown thing by a bigger thing over your head to smash into the intruder’s head, you hear your daddy’s voice.

You freeze and your eyes start to clear up, you can see again. You’re huffing and puffing, you the put your bedside table on the ground. You’re room is mostly okay, if not a bit messy because of the fighting. You look to your bed and see that Jason’s looking at you with wide eyes with your Oliver plushie in his hands. You start to piece together what happened and sigh before you stretch your body lightly. Jason then yells at you. “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?”

You groan and then say. “It just happens sometimes-“

Jason’s eyes widen further and he continues. “SOMETIMES!? You were acting like some backed up rabid animal! And that’s normal?!”

You turn around and massage your temples before saying. “Really? And you’re so much better, Mr. ‘Boy wonder’? Look if you came here to judge me-“

Jason makes you turn around and is about to yell again but stops himself. Instead he lets out a sigh and pulls you into a hug. You’re a bit surprised but you hug him back you two stand there for a moment in silence. The two of you let go and you take a step back from him, he gives you a melancholy look before calming himself down fully. He takes another moment to think and then says. “I get it. We both have secrets. I just… I don’t know. I’m sorry for avoiding you, and I’m sorry for running-“

You interrupt him, grabbing his hand and try to assure him. “Jason, no! You had every right to do that. I’m sorry I couldn’t control myself I just, recently it’s been harder to. I’m not saying it to excuse myself, I’m saying it to explain myself. And I was so frustrated, I… Jason I want you to be safe. And what you’re doing… I can’t protect you from that. That made me angry and scared, and the way you kept brushing off my concerns just left me feeling more worried and scared. I love you so much Jason. We may not be related by blood, but you matter to me more than anyone else. Well not anyone else, you’re a very close third to Luke.”

Jason chuckles at that, he then brushes his hair out of his face before saying. “Yeah, I get that, I’m sorry about that. It’s just I�� I know. It’s dangerous. Of course it is. You don’t have to tell me that. But I have to, cause if it’s not me, who will? Who’s gonna protect the kids that are going through the stuff we went through?”

You look at into his eyes and that’s when you know, he’s not gonna quit this. No matter what you say. You cup his cheeks and tear up, your baby, your little brother. It brings you so much pride, so much pain and tremendous amount of grief to your heart knowing that every night you’re going to bed, he’s going out there to fight criminals and villains. People who don’t care that he’s just a kid. That’s when you let out a shaky sigh and let the tears run down. You kiss the edge of his hairline and really look at him. You look at his hooded eyes with beautiful brown irises, like the sweetest milk chocolate, his fluffy black hair which you run your left hand runs through, his full cheeks, the permanent little smirk on his face, which makes you smile. You chuckle wetly as you squish his cheeks as he chuckles back. You exhale shakily before saying. “It’s like I’m sending you off to war. Is there any chance I can make you change your mind?”

He chuckles at that and shakes his head as he looks back at you tearfully. You nod and softly say. “I thought so.”

You let go of him and you get a tissue to wipe your face. Once your face is dry you go back to him and say. “I’m not gonna stop you. I don’t think I’d be able to anyways.”

You both chuckle at the before you continue. “But I want to help. Whatever you or Bruce want me to do I’ll do. Well less Bruce, more you. I want to do my best to keep you safe. Just because you’re a vigilante doesn’t change that. And I want you to promise me,” You say as you put up your right hand with your pinkie out. “No more secrets. Please.”

He stares at your hand and then at you before asking. “Are you serious-“

“Just take the damn pinkie Jason.” You say with exasperatedly.

He rolls his eyes and then takes it with his own pinkie. You then say. “Promise me, promise me that if there’s anything and I mean anything that is potentially life threatening or changing you will tell me.”

He pauses, thinking about it for a moment before saying. “I pinkie promise to not keep secrets that could be potentially life changing or threatening from you.”

You nod, and before you release his pinkie you quickly add in. “Or else I get a free punch.”

“Hey! That’s not what we-“

“Well I guess you should tell the truth then to avoid getting punched then.” You say with a smirk.

He then rolls his eyes before you pull him into a hug and say. “I love you. So much. You’re my one and only brother-“

“What about Dic-“

You then interrupt him with. “He doesn’t count.”

Jason laughs at that and then says. “I love you too. Until I take my last breath.”

——————————

Tag list: @simpingpandas @randomlyappearingartist @birbtweettweet @soulsire @crazycaoticsimp

I hope you guys liked it! And thanks for waiting patiently! Also I still need a beta reader, not to like edit or anything just to read it over and like critique my stuff. But yeah, this chapter took longer as well as like became longer than I anticipated. I was initially thinking this would be the chapter that I, well, you know. But it didn’t. We’ll also see either Kori and Barbara in the next chapter or so. And if you guys want to see like Ethan again let me know! Because this might be your last chance :)

[genderkoolaid]

I really respect Jules Giles-Peterson, her work is great, and she's pretty good at consciously trying to avoid casual anti-transmasculinity from what I've seen. But I do really wish she could talk about transmasculine history with the same depth she talks about transfem history. Not because she should HAVE to– I have no issue with her focusing mostly on what she knows best. But every time she brings up transmasc history I'm like!!!! if this is a topic you want to bring up there's SO much more you can be saying here.

I just read this article by her:

And I think it's in general good! I was really happy to see a well known transfem scholar writing something on this topic, since so many people seem to have blinders on when it comes to the very obvious intersection of trans and abortion issues.

Additionally, she uses this as an opportunity to talk about transfem/transmasc community and the support networks between us, which is lovely. She illustrates not only the connection between trans people and abortion but also how that has been an opportunity for collaboration and shared resistance.

However... it feels to me like there's weirdly little focus on transmascs in this article about trans abortions? It feels like more time is spent rehashing the "trans men went stealth and moved away, trans women formed communities in the cities" model rather than exploring the relationship trans people have had to their abortions throughout history. She acknowledges that the chance to achieve that ideal "cis passing married successful straight man" life was slim, but then she doesn't explore what possible experiences OUTSIDE of that slim chance where like.

And I fully acknowledge that it's hard to talk about a lot of transmasc history because so little has been recorded. But that doesn't mean nothing has. While not technically related to abortion, I feel like it would be well worth it to bring up Ferdinand Alexander Bruce, given that he is a historical trans man that we know gave birth. Even more, we know it because he wrote an memoir, so we actually have his own words in his gender and life. Bruce was stealth at certain points in his life, but his transition was public and he was outed repeatedly, leading to constant discrimination. It's not known if his pregnancy was the product of sex or rape. He is an invaluable look into the history of transmasculine pregnancy and the relationships trans people had with pregnancy throughout history. This is the kind of trans man in history we don't think about because his life did not fall into the standard narrative of "transition, pass, marry a woman, get outed after death."

She also brings up the association of trans women and sex work, as a point to how trans women would have established a network of care for trans men using their knowledge as sex workers (a group that has always been closely tied to abortion). I think this a really good and interesting point, but I also think she misses the opportunity to explore the history of trans men in sex work. Sex work and general promiscuity has been associated with FTM crossdressing throughout history (also see this). Many trans men and nonbinary people present as feminine cis women while doing sex work today. There was even an anthology released recently on the experiences of transmasculine sex workers.

I think this is a good article but it's just... disappointing to see people approach this topic, that so much can be said about, and barely even scratch the surface of saying something new. Especially when her work on transfem history is so good.

[your-average-teenage-mess]

The first time I read discworld as a kid, I didn't really understand what the whole "if you are asked to find the real you in a maze of mirrors, ignore them all and look down, and that is you" thing was supposed to mean. I thought it was kinda weird and pretentious. Like, why are you avoiding the question?

But now that I've actually experienced some of the identity crises that you encounter when growing up, it makes so much more sense. It actually makes more sense now than it did back then, to people who grew up in a post-social-media world. You're constantly presented with esthetics and identities to give yourself a sense of meaning, you're supposed to place yourself on every imaginary scale someone made just because, and while that can be fun, there's this added expectation to assign your sense of self to an image someone else made, if you feel like it resonates with you. And... That's especially true with gender. Trans people online have this constant pressure on us to "find our truth" and care oh so deeply about it, but then algorithms start marketing curated pictures of our identities to us, to find pride in it. We're supposed to look at a list of tiktoks about our microlabel and think, "those are my people and I'm proud to be one of them". And don't even get me started on the concept of gender envy. Like, you're supposed to look at something that has nothing to do with you, and assign your identity to this thing, which surely doesn't help the fact that young people are now collectively paralyzed by a lack of sense of self. And I'm not saying any of those things are inherently bad or invalid- we all look at mirrors to examine ourselves, and that's FINE. But the person you ARE isn't gonna come to you in a dream, or an essay, or a post, or a reflection. It's in you. Your sense of self isn't a riddle to be solved, it's just who YOU are. This isn't to say you shouldn't do things that make you feel happy or authentic. But those things don't define you. Nothing that you do or experience would make you no longer you if changed, and that's okay. You're not your body, or your clothes, or your attitude, or your job, or your abilities, or your fandoms, or your diagnosis. You can love them, and hopefully you do, but they're not you. You're you. You're the perspective that experiences the world around you. You're the thing under your mind that feels. Please don't forget that.

[blitzwhore]

I just saw Blitzø get called Stolas stockholm victim I can't with this fandom anymore😭

😂 As outrageously incorrect and stupid as that take is, I'm going to go on a tangent here. I hope you don't mind.

I think every fandom has annoying people with awfully terrible takes in it. People with zero media literacy. People who hatewatch. People who think they're entitled to the exact show they would've wanted, which has nothing to do with the actual, existing show.

This is especially true for queer media, and especially true for queer cartoons. (Hi, yes. I was active in the Adventure Time, Steven Universe, Voltron, and She-Ra fandoms when those shows were airing, respectively. I've seen some stuff). Some people just can't handle queer cartoons, period. If the queer characters/ships are soft and wholesome, they're infantilising and boring, and if they're complex and nuanced and actually have conflict, they're abusive and problematic. You'll hear the same recycled arguments over and over again. Like, the shit some people are saying about Blitz and Stolas after The Full Moon? Is literally almost word-for-word what they said about Catra and Adora post-season 3 of She-Ra (and even at the end of the show).

Here's the thing, though! Those people and their bad takes are not what I want to think about what I think about a fandom. Those aren't the people I want to call the fans. They don't deserve that title. Not when so many other people are out there dedicating their time to making gifs and art and meta posts, and writing fic, and commenting/reblogging to show support, and sliding into people's DMs to scream and squee together about a thing they love.

At the end of the day, "fandom" is just a lot of people each doing their own thing. Which people you engage with and allow to stay within your line of sight will determine your fandom experience. Fandom can be a huge, convoluted, online space full of people who are constantly arguing with one another and whose takes make you unfathomably angry... Or it can be you and your 5 friends and mutuals who scream gleefully at one another in 2-note posts. You can't control what others post online, but you can control your engagement with it.

How? Well, here's what I personally do to avoid getting upset by people's stupid opinions online:

Filter 'critical' and 'anti' tags (eg. #anti stolitz #anti vivziepop #Helluva Boss critical #HB critical #vivziepop critical). Many people actually do tag their critical posts because they know it's the respectful thing to do!

If I come across a post that has one or more of those tags, obviously, I don't click through to see it under any circumstances.

If I stumble across a stranger's untagged post with hate/criticism that upsets me: I stop reading and BLOCK. Immediately. I don't look back. I don't finish reading. I don't engage. I just block block block. I <3 the block button, seriously.

If I feel my mind reeling from a bad take I just came across: I take a step back, close my phone, breathe, remember life is beautiful sometimes. Go back and watch an episode I really like. Clean my living space a little. Vent about it to a friend (but only if I really need to, because if not, I'd rather not dwell on it).

If I'm starting to feel the need to reply to someone's bad take (directly or via my own post), I instead make the decision to channel that energy into making fandom posts out of love. (I don't do this just with fandom. If I see something transphobic online, I usually react by reblogging a bunch of trans art or trans positivity posts on my main, for example). I like to think of it as putting some positivity out into the world to compensate for the negativity I just saw. So, for example, if I see someone shitting on my blorbo, I may make a silly post just saying how much I love blorbo. Or I'll make (or draft) a post about how interesting I find some of blorbo's actions. Or reblog another person's positive/interesting post about blorbo.

And finally, I stay the hell away from Twitter. Or at least, if I go on Twitter, I try my best to avoid any tweet that has text in it instead of just art. Even the people who have good opinions spend too much time arguing with the people who have bad opinions on there. I don't want to see people's bad takes! No, not even while reading founded and perfectly articulated criticism of those bad takes! So I just limit my time on Twitter. And again, if someone is putting bad takes on my TL (even if it is to counter them), I unfollow and block as needed.

All this to say, yes, it really fucking sucks to read the opinions of people who don't understand and who hate the characters and ships and worlds you love. Gosh it's the worst. But you can curate your fandom experience. You can focus on the things you can control. You have the power to decide if your fandom experience is draining or fun!

And because I don't know how to finish this, here, have a Stolitz kiss to heal you:

We will keep winning and there's nothing the haters can do about it. 😌

[gonzo-rella]

Headcanons: Being Wallace Wells' Trans Boyfriend

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

EDIT: Although this fic was written with a more binary trans reader in mind, I'm hoping this fic will also be suitable for AFAB nonbinary people who are masc or male adjacent, which is where I might be at. I'm currently working dating hcs for Wallace with a nonbinary reader (which will be suitable for both AFAB and AMAB readers).

Relationship(s): Wallace Wells x transmasc!reader (romantic)

Warnings/info: Trans typical stuff, like dysphoria, transphobia etc. etc., sexual remarks, he/him pronouns for reader, headcanons were written in one sitting, when I was feeling not great. (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: I've been reading a lot of Succession fics over the last few days. Last night I read a Roman Roy fic and for some reason it gave me this overpowering wave of dysphoria that I still have yet to fully recover from. Annoyingly, I have yet to actually watch Succession so this could have been avoided; I just think Kieran Culkin's hot and very gender so I couldn't resist pretending that someone with his face was my boyfriend. Reading about Roman made me think 'oh shit. Maybe I'm a flawed and pathetic little guy on the inside. But I just look like a woman who likes to kiss women and everyone treats me like a girl and uses my girl name and girl pronouns and that feels super gross and makes me want to live in a hole. Now I'm going to feel bad about that for the next few days.' So, yeah, I'm having another transmasc crisis that I'm using fanfiction to get me through. I figured Kieran Culkin started this, so I might as well write something featuring a character of his that I can actually write for. This is a self-indulgent and self-explorative treat for myself, but I hope that transmasc readers can enjoy this, too. If you'd like more Wallace stuff, trans stuff or Wallace AND trans stuff, feel free to send in a request. I really want to provide more fics for transmasc readers because you guys are super underrepresented (and, y'know, Papa Gonzo-rella wants to explore his gender a little more). Also, I swear that I will get around to watching Succession, and I more than likely will end up writing for it when I do.)

Respectfully, Wallace does not give a shit that you’re trans.

Of course, he doesn’t flat-out ignore it, because it’s part of who you are, but it isn’t an obstacle in your relationship by any means, and it doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

If you’re feeling dysphoric and/or otherwise insecure about yourself, he’ll pinch your cheeks and tell you how handsome and sexy you are.

If you’re feeling especially bad, like ‘not getting out of bed and hiding from the world’ bad, he’ll keep you company and say what he can to reassure you.

Being mushy and sincere truly isn’t his thing, so whatever he says will sound either slightly insensitive (but still pretty sensitive as far as Wallace goes), facetious or like he wants you to get over how you’re feeling so he can fuck you.

But, he genuinely doesn’t want you to feel bad and you can tell he cares, because otherwise he wouldn’t be there for you when you're feeling your worst.

Wallace is very affirming, but in his own Wallace way.

He lovingly refers to you as his lameass boyfriend.

If Scott ever compliments you about anything, Wallace will call him gay.

He will shout ‘gay’, like the Senor Chang meme.

"Hey, man, I like your shirt-"

"Ha, Scott's gay!"

"I-I'm not gay! I just like his shirt."

"What's wrong with being gay, Scott?"

"Nothing! There's nothing wrong with being gay!"

"You really need to work on your internalised homophobia, Scott. To think, my gay lover and I share a bed with a bigot."

If you’re doing anything that he knows will make you dysphoric or exacerbate your dysphoria (for example, scrolling through social media and looking at cis dudes that give you gender envy) he’ll shut it down.

Using the aforementioned example, he’ll snatch your phone off you and close the app, saying: “Nope. Make better decisions.”

And, while you’d initially be annoyed at him for grabbing your phone, you will appreciate it in the long run.

If you have testosterone shots but you’re not a fan of doing them yourself, he’ll begrudgingly help you with them.

He will make a very Wallace comment, though

“Stabbing? I didn’t know you were that kinky.”

If anyone’s a dick to you about being trans, Wallace is always ready to go with a snide remark about the other person, because of all the things you could possibly mock his lameass boyfriend for, being trans is at the bottom of that list.

(He should know, as the person who makes fun of you the most.)

Also, he cares about you very, very much and he doesn't want people being transphobic to his boyfriend.

If you’re cool with it, he will make trans jokes, but nothing ‘attack helicopter’ or ‘attack helicopter’ adjacent, because he’s too clever for that and he can come up with better material that isn’t just derivative, transphobic garbage.

If you get your period and it makes you at all dysphoric, be prepared for this exchange:

“Don’t worry. Scott pissed blood last month and cried about it and he’s still a man.”

“Did-did he go to the doctor?”

“I don’t know. He seems fine now, though.”

If you still have boobs and don’t mind them being touched or otherwise acknowledged, he will use them like a pillow.

If you decide to get top surgery, he will make the following request:

“Well, if you’re not using them, can I have them? I need a pillow that Scott won’t steal. And, he wouldn’t steal your tits, because he knows I’d call him gay for it.”

“Why are you like this, Wallace?”

“Selfish.”

Being trans doesn’t make your relationship much different from any of Wallace’s other relationships.

You’re just, for better or worse, another one of Wallace’s boyfriends.

[rose-tries-to-write]

Things I’ve learned about Danny Phantom after finally watching it as a person who avoided watching it for months and read fanfiction instead. 👍🏻✨

Spoiler warning, just in case!

They call themselves the Phandom. (Super cute, I love it, 10/10)

Everything, and I mean Absolutely Everything I’ve learned, is a fucking Lie. (Not fun. I have to rewrite my entire understanding. I feel betrayed. Offended. Gobsmacked. My flabbers are mf gasted. -5/10)

The show is actually really funny. (I enjoyed my experience. 9/10)

Fuck Phantom Planet. (What the fuck was that shit? Um, rewind, redo, no thx, give me back the ghostie boy please. I genuinely didn’t even finish the episode, I got to where he un-died and had to turn it off. I refuse to watch it now. 0/10)

The Phandom was right to steal canon and make it our bitch. (Trans Danny? More Dani/Ellie screen time? Actual plot and lore for the show? Actual in-depth thought to ghosts and their culture? Um, yes please. 1000/10)

Frostbite actually is a doctor. (I don’t know why, but I thought it was another thing the Phandom made up. Love to see it, 10/10)

Wes Weston deserves his own episode. (What do you mean he doesn’t actually exist. What do you mean I don’t get my LGBTQ+ undertones. This is homophobic /j. -10/10)

How do you tell when a ghost is intangible, invisible, or both?? (The show doesn’t have a differentiator between the two, so I’m always confused if people can just see him floating through walls. 3/10)

Guys in White literally do nothing but be annoying. (Another case of the Phandom Lying to us. I love it though, they make really good antagonists. 7/10)

The Fentons are stupid and mildly aggressive, but they do love their kids. (I read a lot of vivisection, child neglect, and general Bad Parents fics so excuse me on that front. 8/10)

Danny didn’t actually beat Pariah Dark? (I love the Ghost King Danny fics, so to find out all he did was shove him into a sarcophagus was a bit of a bummer. He struggles more with Undergrowth than the actual king, like?? 6/10)

He can reach inside himself to take things out. (He ate a spoon in one ep and just reached inside himself to take it out. Pretty cool. 9/10)

Is he actually dead? (Phantom Planet makes it seem as if he just got a bit too high a dose of ectoplasm in his system and it fucked him up, how else could he have just undone the damage? But, most of the Phandom says he legit died in the portal, in which case he could not have gone in and just un-killed himself like he did in Phantom Planet. I think he died, personally. More trauma and angst for my writing. ??/10)

Clockwork appears a lot less than I thought he would. So does Frostbite. (I thought with how much they appear in the Phandom, they must have really important and constant roles, but no. They appear very rarely. Sad face. 5/10)

Vlad sucks. (Vlad fucking sucks. 0/10)

Dani/Ellie is much younger in appearance than I thought. (I looked her up for reference when I first started reading the fics, but she looked 14-15. She actually looks 6-7 years old in show. They literally call her a kid. 8/10)

Dani is what she chose to be called, not a funny joke the Phandom played on itself. (I though it was a silly little haha moment. Nope. The show just… named her that. I think Ellie is the Phandoms choice in calling her?? 8/10)

Why is Danny obsessed with Paulina even while crushing on Sam? (He is actively blushing and flirting with Sam and then they’ll turn around and he’s jumping at the chance to talk to Paulina?? Hate it. 0/10)

Danny and Dash don’t actually date. (I saw this circle around the Phandom a bit, thought it was cute if a bit weird, and then it didn’t happen? 6/10)

No obsessions, no cores, no real reason for the ghosts to be terrorizing Amity Park. (I legit thought it was real in-verse stuff, I’m so disappointed in the lack of it in the show. It could have been so good. 3/10)

Danny doesn’t actually become friends with his ghosts. (They don’t really get along, ever. They don’t talk outside of fighting, except for those who actually like him. Missed opportunity. 4/10)

His Space obsession is actually just a few mentions of him wanting to be an astronaut? (I thought he genuinely had an obsession with the stars and we’d see a lot of him stargazing or word-vomiting about his hyper fixation, but no. Sad. 4/10)

He does go stargazing (maybe?) and flies around when he’s not fighting. (We see him going off as Phantom in the episode where Jazz finds out about him. There are no battles and he looks like he’s having fun flying around. 10/10)

He was called Inviso-Bill?? (Hilarious, I love it, why did no one ever tell me this. 7/10)

He says “Going Ghost!” every time he transforms. Every fucking time. (It’s annoying, it’s ugly, I hate it. I am so glad no fics mentioned this or used it, I think I’d go insane. -1000/10)

That’s all I got for today, and probably for a while. I just wanted to write it down for fun, but I might post more like this eventually.

[forest-hashira]

Birds of a Feather

happy pride everyone! finally some explicitly queer content (even tho nothing i write is cishet in my mind). another coming out fic. idc if it's cliche, it's a big deal for our girl and i'm very proud of her ok? also you legally have to be nice to me and her this whole month bc it's pride. also, this is my entry for @dearbraus's "blooming into you" collab! be sure to check out the rest of the masterlist 💜

series masterlist | read on ao3 | wc: ~2.4k | cw: gender neutral reader, transfem gojo, coming out, fluff, super light angst (she's nervous to come out), gumi's in this one!, hints of parental gojo/mentions of gojo raising megumi, megumi is a trans man in this au

Satoru continued to grow her hair out after you first trimmed her undercut, continued painting her nails, and wore her clear lip gloss to the school more days than not. She seemed content with things as they were – and if she was content, you were content – but when her hair got long enough for you to braid out of her face, she decided it was time to take another step in her transition.

“Don’t you think it’s time I told someone else about… well. About me, I guess,” she asked one evening while you were in the kitchen.

The question caught you off guard, and you finished setting up the rice cooker before turning to face her. She was avoiding your gaze, instead staring down at her nails; her polish was starting to chip a bit, and you’d been trying to break her of the habit of picking it off when it would chip.

“That’s not really my decision,” you responded gently, watching her closely. “Are you ready to tell anyone else?”

She hesitated, still not meeting your gaze. “I think people are starting to notice anyway.” Her words were so soft you nearly missed them, but the anxiety that permeated her words broke your heart.

“What makes you think that?” You stepped closer, crossing the room and taking her hands into your own when you noticed her start to pick at her nail polish. The odds that anyone had been cruel to her were low, but it didn’t ease the surge of protectiveness that flared in your chest.

“Nobara,” she said quietly. “She mentioned my hair, and my nails.”

Your brows furrowed; of course it was Nobara who said something first. “What did she say about them?”

A shrug. “Nothing in particular, really. Just pointed them out. She’s mentioned my nails a couple times.” 

“Didn’t you say Yuji really liked your nails the first time Nobara pointed them out?” The smile Satoru had worn when sharing that piece of information with you a few weeks back had been so sweet, bashful but excited, nearly giddy that someone else liked the small changes she was making to her appearance.

“…Yeah,” she agreed, the corner of her lips twitching slightly. “He did. He had Nobara paint his nails after classes that day.”

A smile tugged at your own lips then, and you gave her hands a gentle squeeze. “See? Your students don’t think poorly of you for any of the changes you’ve already made. You don’t have to take any steps you’re not ready for yet.”

Finally, she looked up from her hands and met your gaze, managing a small and still slightly nervous smile. “I think… I think I am ready to tell someone else, though. I think it’ll help me feel better about all of this.”

You gave a small nod. “Alright, ‘Toru. If you’re really ready, I’ve got your back. Do you know who you want to tell?”

Her smile faltered slightly, but it didn’t disappear entirely. “Not really,” she admitted with a sigh. “I know I’ll tell everyone eventually, somehow, but it feels…” Satoru trailed off for a moment, and you could tell from her expression that she was trying to find the right words. “I dunno, just feels odd to rank how important people are to me, y’know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” you assured her. Another moment of silence passed as you considered the best way to reframe it for her, hopefully make it easier for her to decide who to tell first. “Well, think about it this way: this isn’t about how important each person is to you, at least not for what order you tell them in. This is about who you’re comfortable confiding in, or who you’re comfortable being open with. It’s about you, princess, not everyone else.”

Something in your girlfriend’s expression shifted as you spoke, almost like it was clicking for her, and you watched some of the tension bleed from her shoulders. “Yeah,” she agreed, smiling a bit brighter again. “Yeah, this is about me. You’re right.”

Seeing her more at ease had you smiling a bit brighter, too, and you squeezed her hands again. “Can I make a suggestion about who to tell?” you asked. “You can say no, of course. This is a big step forward, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m trying to make the decision for you.”

“No, it’s okay, go ahead,” Satoru said. “I still don’t have anyone in mind, so I’m open to suggestions.” Her expression was earnest as she looked down at you, all of her attention focused on you.

“I think Megumi would be a good choice.”

The suggestion seemed to catch her off guard, and she blinked a few times before she spoke again. “Really?” she asked. “Why Gumi?”

“‘Cause he’s trans, too, remember?” you reminded, still smiling gently up at her. “He’ll understand.” 

“Oh, yeah.” A fierce blush spread across her face almost faster than you could process, and you couldn’t help but giggle softly at her. It honestly didn’t surprise you that she had sort of forgotten about that detail of Megumi’s gender; it’s not like it was something that was discussed frequently between them, since Megumi was already presenting as a boy when Satoru first met him, and the revelation of him being trans didn’t come along until the boy started puberty. Megumi had always just been Megumi, and nobody that mattered had ever treated him any differently because he was trans. You knew that the boy would think the same of Satoru, and that he would even likely be one of Satoru’s fiercest advocates after he learned of this development.

“I think I will tell Gumi first,” Satoru said after a few moments. “Like you said, he’ll get it, and I think… I think that understanding is what I need to start with.”

“I’m really proud of you for recognizing that, ‘Toru,” you told her with a grin. This process hadn’t been all that easy on her, so being able to identify and verbalize her needs herself was a good sign.

As impossible as it should have been, she seemed to blush even more at your words, the red now stretching from the tips of her ears all the way down her neck, and all you could think was how much it made her eyes pop. Unable to resist, you pushed in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek before settling back into your former spot. 

“You want some more time to think about how you wanna tell him?” you asked curiously, thumbs rubbing over her knuckles absentmindedly. You were a bit surprised when she shook her head, though.

“No,” she said softly. “If I think about it for too long I might talk myself out of it. I’ll tell him tomorrow after class.”

“Would you like me to be there with you when you tell him? For moral support?”

“...Yeah,” Satoru whispered. “Yeah, I would.”

“I’ll be there, then.”

The beep that indicated that the rice cooker was finished nearly made you both jump, but you just chuckled softly. “Alright, princess, we’ll figure everything else out later. For now, let’s eat.”

Just as you promised, you went to the school with lunch for yourself and Satoru, knowing that the break between classes and training was when your girlfriend was planning to speak to Megumi and share her life update. You arrived just as Satoru was finishing her lesson, and waited patiently outside the door, not wanting to interrupt at all. When the door slid open a couple minutes later, you took a half step back to give the students a bit more room to leave. You smiled at them as you saw them.

“Hi Nobara-chan, Yuji-kun. It’s good to see you,” you greeted as they passed you, but you reached out to catch Megumi before he could slip away. “Megumi, could you come back in with me for a moment?”

The boy paused when he felt your hand on his arm, and his brows furrowed slightly when you used his full name, rather than a nickname like you tended to do, since you’d known him so long; if you used his full name, it meant something serious was happening. “Yeah, of course.” He looked up when Yuji called out to him, and he quickly waved his classmates off, promising to catch up with them soon.

A slight sense of relief washed over you as Megumi agreed to come with you without any argument; he wasn’t as combative as he’d been when he was younger, but it was still nice when he didn’t make a fuss. The two of you stepped back into the classroom, where Satoru sat at her desk. She brightened a bit when she saw you and stood from her chair, though when she saw Megumi right behind you, it seemed to hit her all over again what was about to happen.

“Hi, ‘Toru,” you greeted, sliding the door to the classroom shut once Megumi was fully in the room with you. The action seemed to make him a little apprehensive, but he didn’t say anything, and he didn’t make to leave, either, which was another relief to you, and, you assumed, to Satoru.

Your girlfriend murmured a small greeting in return as you stepped closer, and allowed you to tug her around the front of the desk without fuss. She held tight to your hand as she came to stand beside you, though, and you could feel the faintest tremor in her grip.

“Is something wrong?” Megumi asked, glancing between the two of you, though his gaze lingered on Satoru a bit more; his teacher was rarely this quiet, so it was a definite sign that whatever this conversation was about, it was serious.

“No,” you answered right away, wanting to ease any nerves the boy might have. “Nothing’s wrong. Satoru has something to tell you, that’s all.”

You looked up at your partner then, offering her a soft smile when she looked back down at you, and when she seemed to hesitate, you squeezed her hand, silently encouraging her to share her news; you couldn’t do this for her, even if you hated how nervous she was about doing it herself.

She gave you a tiny nod, taking a deep breath and turning back to look at Megumi. “Well… I know you’ve noticed some changes with me recently,” she started. “Nobara was pretty insistent on pointing out my nails, and how my hair is growing out now.” With that, she pulled her blindfold down, allowing her hair to fall into her face completely for a moment before she ran her fingers through it, tugging lightly on it in a self-soothing motion. Despite the fact that her eyes were no longer covered, she still wasn’t quite making eye contact with the boy she’d spent the last ten years raising. 

Megumi nodded at Satoru’s words, though he said nothing, clearly not wanting to interrupt and throw his sensei off from whatever it was Satoru was trying to tell him.

The snowy haired sorcerer let out a shaky breath before she continued. “Before I started painting my nails, or intentionally growing my hair out, or anything like that, I did some reflecting, and I… I realized that I’m not, uh. I’m not—”

You frowned when she got a bit choked up, and you squeezed her hand again, leaning in a bit and resting your head on her arm in silent support. The touch seemed to punch a small gasp from her, but it was enough to let her take a steadying breath and keep going, to let her finish what she started without fully breaking down in the middle.

“I realized that I’m not a man. I never have been, I just… didn’t have the words to explain it. Or the option to even consider it, really.” A small, almost bitter laugh escaped her then, but she shook her head slightly, likely pushing any of the lingering negative feelings aside.

Finally, she met Megumi’s steady gaze. “I’m still me,” she said. “I’m just… not a man. I’m a woman.” She shrugged slightly when she finished, and it wasn’t long before she dropped his gaze again.

The boy was silent for a few long moments, his expression unreadable as he nodded again, but when he finally spoke, you could feel the tension bleed from your girlfriend’s frame. “Do you still want me to call you Gojo-Sensei?”

Satoru’s head shot up at the question, her expression brightening. “Yeah,” she laughed softly. “Yeah, that’s fine. I like my name, I don’t plan on changing it.” She hesitated for a moment, unsure, then asked, voice small, “Can I give you a hug?”

The blush that dusted Megumi’s face at the question was endearing, and it made you smile, especially when he mumbled that yes, a hug was fine. Satoru was quick to release your hand and close the distance between herself and her ward, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

“Thanks, Gumi,” she whispered, face half buried in his hair.

His arms came up to wrap around her in return. “Just tell me when I can start correcting people about your pronouns and everything,” he replied. He peeked at you around his teacher’s arm, and you could see a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“You gonna get into fights defending me?” the sorceress asked, somewhat teasingly; given Megumi’s violent streak in middle school, it wasn’t entirely impossible.

“If I have to, yeah. Nobody’s getting away with that shit on my watch.”

She let out a choked half-laugh, half-sob at his words, and squeezed him a bit tighter. “I love you, Gumi.” 

The words caught both you and Megumi off guard, his face going an even deeper shade of red; Satoru hadn’t said those words to the boy since he was little, probably because he’d been resistant to the sentiment – understandably so, after everything he’d gone through so early in his life.

This time, though, he didn’t try to squirm away from the affection, or deflect or ignore what had been said to him. Instead, he squeezed Satoru a bit tighter, and whispered something that sounded an awful lot like “Love you, too.”

i'm an animal rn apparently sorry guys. i've finished 3 fics in 8 days (even tho i've spaced out posting them here). i hope you're enjoying my insanity at least AHAHA. also peep the new divider!!! i'll be using it going forward bc it's cute and is perfect for this series 💜

taglist: @mitsuristoleme @redlikerozez @dr-runs-with-scissors @teddybeartoji @gods-landing @dearbraus (sign up for my taglist here!)

dividers by cafekitsune

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

im a trans boy who has grown up with very oppressive religious parents so ive never gotten the chance to experiment sexually or romantically with peers irl, im about to move to the city for college in the fall

(i will be living on campus with two roommates who i haven't met yet and i know basically nothing about, one of them i will be sharing a bunk bed with)

im really nervous about how im gonna do socially.. ive had a really hard time making and maintaining irl friends for like my entire life, which has been really upsetting for me obviously.

being able to experiment sexually is something im really wanting to do and im really really nervous about it, i know that the most straightforward advice is just "talk about it to people you wanna do sex stuff with" but like everything is new to me i havent had the chance to really socialize irl up until this point and now im being shoved into a group of other young adults who all have the prior experience of being well socialized and having complex interpersonal relationships with peers

i also feel extremely insecure about my lack of experience, like is it actually normal for someone my age to have never had a romantic or sexual encounter? are the things ive discovered and assumptions ive made about myself sexually through masturbating wrong?? i can't watch porn bc looking at strangers having sex grosses me out!! im pretty sure my front hole is like unnaturally tight?? anything wider than two of my fingers is uncomfortable and no matter how much prep and easing myself into it i do, it stays that way.. and i think my cervix is also lower than most, about 3-4 inches is the maximum that i can insert before i can feel it bump my cervix (which hurts REALLY BAD)

im just so nervous and scared about my own body and personality and all that andi don't know where to look for resources or reassurance. ive never been to the doctor for any kind of reproductive care and im really scared to!!! i live in a state that has completely outlawed abortion rights and im really scared that if i go to planned parenthood or something to get like a checkup that they will be mean and not gentle with me

i don't know, i guess im just looking to be heard and hopefully pointed towards some resources if anyone has any, thank you for the work you do and thank you for taking the time to read my panicked ramblings

hi anon,

there's a lot happening here so I'm just doing a numbered list

1.) man, how did the third guy luck out and avoid the bunk bed? you don't have to answer that, I'm just curious how you guys have already worked out that two of you are stuck with the bunk beds. unless you're into bunk beds (I was), in which case mazel tov.

2.) in the nicest way possible, I think you may be vastly overestimating how "well socialized" other students are going to be. reading between the lines a bit, it sounds like you were maybe home schooled, or at least don't have very much experience mingling with other people your age without adult supervision. I guarantee you every public school in the world is also full of introverted freak losers who rock up to college with no idea of what they're doing; I was one of them. the majority of first year college students are also running around panicking and trying to figure out how to be away from their parents for the first time; everyone is a loser and no one is cool.

would it comfort you at all to know that my day job is organizing events at my office's LGBT student resource center? I spend a lot of time hanging out with queer first year students, and I love them dearly, and they're all cringefail losers. it's unavoidable. every 18 year old is a cringefail loser. every single person on Earth looks back at their 18 year old self and goes "goddamn, what a cringefail loser." and it's fine! it's so normal! that's the entire point of your first year of college! you try things and you're socially awkward and you meet some of the most important people you will ever meet and you meet people whose opinions about you won't matter literally at all and you'll completely change how you think about everything for the rest of your life and you'll think you're going to die and everything will be fine!!!!

anyway moving on

3.) it's normal for anyone at any age to have never had a romantic or sexual encounter. I'm assuming you value my insight at least a little, since you sent this, so would it help you to know that I arrived at college as virginal as could be (wildly insecure about it, btw) and didn't have sex for the first time until I was almost 21? would it comfort you to hear from my housemate, also transmasculine, who gave me permission to share that they've never had sex and that none of their life problems really have anything to do with being a virgin?

4.) "are the things ive discovered and assumptions ive made about myself sexually through masturbating wrong??" hard to say, since I don't know what those things are, but probably not. it's extremely hard to get masturbating wrong, no one knows what feels good to you better than you. you're sort of an authority here. masturbating isn't exactly like partnered sex, of course, but it's a really good place to start learning about things that you like and make you feel good.

5.) everything you're describing about your front hole sounds very typical. two fingers is the max number of comfortable fingers for a lot of people, regardless of experience; often, taking something larger doesn't become easier until after having penetrative sex with a partner. average vaginal depth is about 3.6 inches, and while that can increase significantly with arousal, it's something that doesn't generally happen if you're not relaxed during sex. if I can be a bit presumptuous, it sounds like sex and masturbation are maybe a bit anxiety-inducing for you, in a way that is pretty much perfectly contradictory to comfortable penetration. if I can offer you some advice I wish I could give my younger self: calm the fuck down, buy some lube, stop worrying so much about making your body react the way you think it should and learn to appreciate what it's actually doing, and maybe see if your campus has some free therapy options available. anxiety meds probably wouldn't hurt this situation. also stop hitting your cervix if that hurts oh my god.

6.) Planned Parenthood is generally one of the best places to go if you're nervous; they're aggressively queer friendly and tend to be extremely accommodating of patients' needs. I personally do not care for penetration at all and have a difficult time with Pap smears, and every examiner I've ever had at PP has been an angel about letting me take breaks and swear my way through it. it ain't fun, but if you want to have an adventurous sex life you need to take care of the health of yourself and your prospective partners by getting STI tests and Pap smears.

you're so normal, calm down, I love you

[xx-alice-in-wonderland-xx]

Abby, Lev & Yara incorrect quotes 🖤

Abby, to Lev: Look at you! All cute and small! I could just eat you up! Lev: *proceeds to kick her in the shin and run away*  Yara, walking past: Rule number 1, don't call Lev cute or small.

Lev: Why is everyone so obsessed with top or bottom? Honestly, I’d just be excited to have a bunk bed.  Abby: Abby: I'm gonna tell him.  Owen: Don't you dare.

Abby: Today, Lev said a swear word, so Yara said that she was going to wash Lev’s mouth out with soap. Lev replied, “It’s okay, I like the taste of soap”. Turns out, they’ve both been putting soap on their lips to blow bubbles for the past hour.

Lev, gardening: Hey, can you bring me the hoe?  Abby: Yeah, sure.  *A few minutes later*  Abby: Here you go.  Lev:  Abby:  Owen: Why am I here?

Yara: Breathe, just breathe.  Lev: I’ve done nothing with my life! I’m a failure!  Their mom in Lev’s mind: Awww, that never bothered you before.

Lev on his 18th birthday: Adulting is hard.  Lev: How do I quit?  Yara: Time travel.  Abby: Die.

Lev: When Yara was born, the gods said, "She’s too perfect for this world."  Abby: Please. When I was born, the devil said, "Oh, competition."

Yara: You get turned back into a baby but you retain all your skills and memory, what do you do?  Abby: Eat a nickel.  Yara: A reminder: You have retained all your skills and memories.  Lev: Eat a nickel.  Yara: Ok.

Lev: Why does everyone want to kill Abby?  Ellie: Because, goddamnit, have you seen her? her neck looks so snappable.

*the Squad cleaning up*  Abby: Pick up the nearest piece of trash and throw it away.  Lev, to Yara: Aight, which bin do you wanna go in—

Lev: *sneaking in through their window*  Yara: *turning in their chair and flicking the light one* You want to tell me where you've been all night?  Lev: I was with Abby?  Abby: *turning in their chair* Wanna try again?

Yara: Do you support gay rights?  Lev: I’m literally trans.  Abby: He’s avoiding the question!

Yara: What did Abby do this time?  Lev: More like WHO did Abby do this time?

Lev: Self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath or putting on a lot of make up if you like that, or taking a nice warm nap and stuff like that basically.  Abby: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you. self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists. self care is the fear in your enemies eyes.  Yara: Self care is stealing someones birthday cake just to eat the frosting.  Lev: If you touch my birthday cake I’ll make you eat your hands.

⬆️ (Lev’s never had a birthday cake 🥲)

Lev: If I die, my funeral will be the biggest party ever and you're all invited.  Yara: "If"  Abby: Great, the only party I'm ever invited to and they might not even die.

Abby: Uh, I think I got your lunch. *Holds up a note that reads: ‘I am very proud of you. Love, Yara’*  Lev: Oh yeah. I didn’t think this was for me. *Holds up a note that reads: ‘Be good. For the love of God, Please be good.’*

Yara: Nice rock.  Lev: Thanks, Abby gave it to me.  Abby: I threw it at you!  Lev: Isn’t she the sweetest?

Yara: Lev! Abby got that thing on the control panel working!  Lev: Wow! That looks pretty impressive.  Yara: Yeah!  Abby: Any idea what it does?  Lev: Not a clue.

Yara: What are you two arguing about this time?  Abby: They’re always using common phrases incorrectly!  Lev: Cry me a table, Abby.

Yara: Lev isn’t answering my messages.  Abby: Allow me.  Yara: I tried 6 times, what makes you thi-  Lev: *replying to message* Hello.

Lev, not understanding the concept of holidays since I headcannon Seraphites didn’t celebrate stuff like Christmas: Christmas is cancelled.  Abby: You can't cancel a holiday.  Lev: Keep it up, Abby, and you'll lose New Year's too.  Abby: What does that mean?  Lev: Yara, take New Year's away from Abby.

Yara, to Abby You know, Lev can be really aggressive, so it's important to take all the necessary precautions when approaching.  Lev: *blows airhorn at a seraphite* GET FUCKED!

this was so funny to make lmao 😭

[velvetvexations]

It is so unbelievable how many fucking anti transmasc losers there are!! It's unbelievable, it really is just like ace discourse. Every fucking blog, I have to search 'transmasc' and 'TME' just like I had to search 'ace' and 'asexual' back in the day People will JUMP at the chance to do this shit over again huh

You should read up on the Cultural Revolution because it just keeps happening.

Ok not to double send but...

Blogs like yours do WONDERS for my mental health. Knowing there are actually people in my corner while I realise I'm a trans man is phenomenal

I'm glad to help! <3

my passing status is nebulous. sometimes i pass, but mostly i dont. im a trans guy with a thing for crossdressing so sometimes i have actual, legitimate euphoria vibes over just... sitting in my car and looking feminine. like "you all think im a girl but SECRETLY IM A BOY!!!" and it feels really good because like. yeah. i can look like a girl but nothing will change that i am a boy 😊😊 trans guy crossdresser again, my passing status is also really weird because i am intersex. my mustache confuses people, and that's great

That's similar to how I feel. People think I'm misgendering myself when I call myself male but it's more like I'm asserting dominance over gendered expectations lol. I'm male and I'm still a woman anyway.

thank you for your blog. a musician i really respected went super anti-transmasc recently and its really hurt, and the stuff here makes me feel like. less insane for having an issue with it

I'm really, really sorry anon. I love you a lot. <3

love that this person is calling people who believe that trans men can be oppressed "chuds", a word that is mostly used to talk about right-wing conservative men

transandro reactionaries dontcha know

"internet tough guys" still exist in 2024?????????????

Someone said something like "no one wants to fight you" and I was thinking "no actually I'm dead serious I would actually."

anyone who tries to debunk transandrophobia by throwing in "you people" has automatically lost the argument imo. but also I need to rant. as That Guy in your inbox who hangs out in bear and leather bars it makes me genuinely want to chew through the floor when people are like "oh well queer people don't demonize masculinity" GO OUTSIDE. YES THEY DO. there is a REASON fat hairy balding men tend to have our own damn spaces, because no one else will take us. FUCK.

if people want to insist that everyone around them has always recognized their soul-gender and no one is ever treated like anything but what they identify as maybe they should stop talking about what genders that aren't theirs experience

I'm a bisexual trans man who does not pass and never will pass and I have spent over 30 years of my life being told my experiences aren't real mostly by other queer people and I am so, so, so, so, SO jaded by it. I'm done. If you tell me "your lived experiences are not a real thing" then you're the villain. I can't stand it. I genuinely cannot take it anymore. I have absolutely nowhere to go and I feel so unbelievably hopeless.

Try to hang in there anon. It's okay to disengage and avoid discourse. I know it's not always possible, but there's nothing wrong with unplugging from this shit as much as you can. You have to focus on your happiness.

I love you. <3

[arthropodrespecter]

2013 vs 2024

tbh, this is incredibly difficult for me. as a trans woman, there are certain expectations for posts like these. some gruff but sad looking man who was transformed into a happy beautiful girl via hormones. so you might think that nothing has changed. or perhaps i have gone backwards, gotten hairier, bigger, becoming even more of a man than i started off as.

this might be hard to read, so i'll put the rest under a read more. CW for homelessness, starvation, transmisogyny, and probably a few things i'm missing.

my transition has been messy. in some ways, you might say that i spent the first 25 years of my life transitioning. as a child i was efemminate, loved to play dress up and dolls, but my father was so against this that he filed a lawsuit against my mother, getting a court order forbidding her from "forcing me to crossdress." this set the tone for the rest of my childhood, which is a story i will not get into here because it is much worse than the story i'm trying to tell.

growing up in a christian fundamentalist home meant that it wasn't until much later, after my mother gained custody and i had gone on to experience even further ruination of my life, that i even learned that trans people exist. that this was a thing you could do, could be. a brief flash, something hiding behind my eyes, and i had locked it away. of course i wasn't trans. i was an athlete, a martial artist, a musician, why would i need to think about gender?

when i was 16, i joined tumblr. i saw a blooming transgender community, got to see the inner thoughts and conversations that trans people were having, couldn't avoid certain things any longer. i started to identify as nonbinary, eventually even coming out to my mother, who certainly TRIED to be supportive. it was exciting, made my heart race a little, made me scared. i had no idea what i was doing, or how my world was about to turn upside down and inside out.

the summer i turned 18, i was severely injured in a martial arts tournament. my right knee had caved in, the bone at the site of the joint crushed by a man i had thought was my friend. i didn't realize what had happened, and so didn't go to a doctor until two weeks later, at which point the damage was considered irreversible. everything i was disappeared. i lost all will to live. i stopped drawing, stopped playing music. i started drinking heavily. my family knew i was struggling but any efforts to fix the situation just made it worse. my mother and older brother had been putting more and more pressure on me to get a job and get out of the house, even though i could barely walk. my older brother told me that my mother was going to kick me out if i couldn't start contibuting. i still couldn't. i became homeless for the first time at the age of 19.

when you're homeless, it's like every single day is drawn out into countless hours, and you either have nothing to do, or far too much to do, and nothing in between. i had an online partner at the time, someone who turned out to be a chaser targeting suspiciously egg shaped men and nonbinary people, who spent the entire time getting more and more frustrated that i didn't have the time to be a fucktoy. i ended up insitutionalized for a month, after which i was kicked to the curb and left with nothing but a backpack and the clothes on my back. any journey of self discovery i may have been having was on hold until i wasn't fighting for survival.

my rescue came from a nonbinary lesbian who reached out to me. i was offered a room, a place to stay for no cost. they helped me break up with my partner. i found myself in a new sort of situationship, but at a confusing cost. why was this lesbian interested in me? was that even okay? eventually we had a conversation. they revealed to me that they had thought i was a trans woman. the fact that i had been seen as a woman hit me like a truck in a blindzone i didn't know i had.

after a difficult few days of arguing with myself, i couldn't hide from it. i was a woman. maybe i had always been a woman. a thought more terrifying than it had any right to be.

i grew my hair out. i started shaving. after a few months, i was even able to book my first HRT appointment (thank you state of washington trans healthcare laws). i came out to my mother a second time, and her reaction was much different this time. maybe due to the distance that had grown between us, the past hostility that left scars still bleeding, but i suspect it was because telling her that her firstborn son was actually a woman was much scarier to her than telling her that i didn't really care about gender.

this photo is from the day that i had my first HRT appointment. my soft chin, once a weakness, could be bared proudly, the ambiguity in my face becoming something that i cherished.

a year later, i had the longest hair of my life. if i shaved and wore makeup, and dressed right, i could get gendered correctly so long as i didn't speak. in that regard, i was truly getting the full experience of womanhood. my relationship with my partner was going strong. i thought that i had found my forever.

things got messy. you will probably hear me say this again. you won't find many better ways to describe my life, other than messy. my partner had always been polyamorous, but i was not, and had not ever pretended that this was not the case. so when one of my partners friends confessed her love to them, they went into panic mode. suddenly they were pushing everyone away, reverting to old bad habits and anxieties, and our relationship began to fall apart.

the friend, we'll call her A, pretended to move on, started dating someone else. my own friendship with A was strained by the situation, and her new partner, a butch lesbian named rowan, seemed to be suffering for it. i realized that the only way our relationships could survive was if we tried to work out an agreement to polyamory. in the end that wasn't enough, but i was desperate. i was starting to see the cracks, realizing that if this fell apart, i would be homeless again. my leg injury had already been so badly worsened from my first experience with homelessness, i knew that going through it again would be the end of me.

since my partner and A were now seeing each other, i began to get ignored. the only time either of them spent talking to me was talking about each other, either joyous or trying to fix some new problem. at this point, i started getting to know rowan. we had a lot in common, i had never talked to a butch before, let alone known one, and seeing the way that they navigated gender made me jealous. i didn't know why.

more and more, rowan and i were separated from the broader relationship, and as we talked more, something developed. i had already felt it the first time we spoke, on some level, but it had grown and grown, from respect, to admiration, to desire and love. we were in a polyamorous relationship after all, so it made sense to me. but shortly after, when i told my partner what i was feeling, they freaked out. this wasn't the agreement, they had only agreed to them being able to date other people, didn't think that it would need to be specified because i wasn't polyamorous.

the entire relationship falls apart and we go back to being two separate couples, and the end of that came swiftly after. they cheated on me with A, and when i found out, that was it. my now ex partner told me that i could stay at the apartment until the lease ran out, and they would move back in with their parents. they took all the furniture, i was left with an ancient computer, a blanket, some clothes, and two pillows. my depression came back with a vengeance, and i stopped eating. by the time the lease ran out, i had lost a dangerous amount of weight. i became homeless for the second time at age 22.

this time, after only six months, i found a thin sliver of hope. i was given a place to stay. a single-wide trailer that i would share with three other trans women and a hairy nonbinary lesbian. you've probably heard the stories of similar situations. it's impossible to have healthy boundaries in a space the size of a can of sardines. or healthy anything really. i got involved in an incredibly toxic relationship with one of the other trans women, who i found out was dating nearly a dozen other people.

the only thing i could do was try to feel wanted. desired. i began experimenting with my image.

i re-established contact with rowan, but there was so much there that i couldn't bring myself to face yet. as i began to experiment with more masculine presentation, those around me took a greater interest in me. i was an object of desire. it was the most worth i had felt i ever had.

i wasn't eating again. so my weight kept dropping. in the three-odd years since my first encounter with homelessness, i had lost 30% of my entire bodyweight. this only made my physical issues get worse and worse.

i wasn't done with experimentation though. what could i do with this newfound territory?

the time came. i couldn't stay anymore. the relationship had fallen apart, and my connection to the household had been sent away in exile. the irony of this is not lost on me. i was lucky enough to be able to couch surf for a few months this time.

i lost weight again.

and again.

my knee got worse and worse. my iliotibial band tore. my birthday came and went, nobody celebrated except for rowan, now my only friend.

a week after my birthday, a lesbian couple contacted me. told me that they had a spare bedroom, and that if i could cover the costs of my own food, could stay for as long as i liked.

i started HRT again. rowan and i had managed to work through all the shit and scum of our past and started a relationship anew. it felt like this could be real.

i started to look a lot like my mom. kind of uncomfortably like my mom. rowan was butch, so i had thought i should be a femme. i didn't understand what that meant, but whatever it was i attempted, it wavered dramatically.

i began to switch, every month or so, between masculine and feminine presentation. my chest had grown enough that it was visible now, and i experienced an equal amount of joy and fear when i was gendered correctly in public, having learned to fear people finding out that i was a trans woman.

the weight didn't come back. it was like my body had burned itself so far down that it could not regrow. i had no energy, and my physical condition continued to deteriorate. but i was allowed to be myself. and i was in love with a butch. maybe that would be enough.

i began to develop a fashion sense of my own. the butch label was starting to appeal to me. and my roommates seemed to agree, since they both shifted towards butchness and masculinity alongside me. but it wasn't to last. one of my roommates, a TME lesbian i'm gonna call M, suddenly went off on a transmisogynistic rant to me. M's partner was a trans woman, and hearing this caused me to suddenly re-evaluate everything. did this happen because M viewed me as more masculine now, a more acceptable target? would this happen to G, M's partner?

i hardcore shifted gears back to feminine presentation. it felt safer. i stopped eating again. things weren't okay, but they were bearable this way. but then, one day, we got locked out of our apartment. a stupid, played out thing that happens to everyone at least once. while my roommate G went to see if the apartment manager was in with a spare key, i attempted to climb our balcony and get in through the unlocked back door. when i was up on the railing of our balcony, it gave way, and i fell to the asphalt below, breaking my back. following a trend that i set half a decade ago, i didn't realize it had happened. my back hurt, but i thought it would go away. it did, replaced by a vast numbness through the middle of my back. i began to collapse any time i tried to exhert myself physically at all. i would only find out why years later. the fact that i couldn't contribute to chores anymore, and nobody knew why, made the situation with M deteriorate much faster.

at my lowest point in years. my relationship with rowan was the only thing that kept me from giving up, but after the third time M decided to spew vileness at me i just spent months locked away in my room, terrified that any time i saw M was going to be another lecture about how i was disrespectful, loud, obtrusive, intimidating, too quiet, too lazy, whatever incoherent train of thought i would have to face next.

it was too much to handle in combination with the events of 2020, the lockdowns, the illness, the forest fires, things ended up coming to a head. at age 25, i became homeless for the third time, during the pandemic and a wildfire that filled the air with plastic fumes so thick you couldn't see ten feet in front of you.

i got in contact with my mother and had her take my cat, because i knew i couldn't take care of her like this. that was the last time i saw my cat in person before she died. rowan was frantically trying anything and everything possible to help me. i thought that this might be the end.

three and a half years ago today i got the best news of my life. there was a way out. it would be a long and tricky road, involving moving my whole life to a new country. but we could do it. not only could we do it, but we actually did it. in a months time, i was in rowan's arms. for the first time in our years of knowing each other, there was nothing keeping us apart any longer.

i was finally able to rest. able to eat. i started to regain weight for the first time in nearly a decade. i felt my energy come back, slowly at first, and then more and more until i was capable of functioning, even if at a low level. it's around then that i find out the truth of what happened to my back. it still hasn't properly healed.

in my gratefullness for life and love, i briefly forgot my identity crisis. i was happy to just exist without fear and pain. it wasn't until about a year ago, when a miracle occurred, that this changed.

i woke up one morning, feeling more energetic than usual. i think to myself, maybe i can do some light exercise, for old times sake.

my knee doesn't hurt.

my knee doesn't hurt.

MY KNEE DOESN'T HURT.

a wound that i thought would dictate my life forever, given actual time to rest and food to fuel the process, had healed. everything that i had ever given up on came rushing back into my head, ideas about who i could be, what i could become, what other injuries i might be able to recover from if i treat them right and rebuild myself. ten months ago i began to work out consistently. my back is slowly healing. i am stronger than i ever was before.

i have had to rebuild myself so many times. did i ever discover the secret of butchness in the process? no, that's something that i think will take the rest of my life. for now, my butchness is an enduring pillar, the only part of myself that never fully burnt away. standing up for myself, being my own person, loving another butch, refusing to lose the kindness i so desperately clung to my whole life, refusing to limit myself and my dreams, this is who i am. i am friends with other butches. i am not alone anymore. for now, this is butch. this is me.

[gggukniverse]

cool with you | jjk

title: cool with you

pairing: jungkook x trans male!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship au

summary: the dysphoria hits you as you're getting ready to go out with your friends but jungkook is there to make you feel better.

warnings: a little breakdown because of dysphoria, mentions of a gender-affirming surgery, jungkook calls you love because i'm a SLUT for that petname.

wordcount: 2.7k

note: hey 👀 so... i'm aware that there's not a lot of male!reader and trans male!reader content here so i wanted to try and write a cute little drabble for people who might want to read this type of content. i hope you like it a lot !!!

-

-

-

"can i borrow one of your shirts?" you ask loud enough for jungkook to hear from the bathroom after having no luck finding a nice shirt in your side of the closet.

"of course you can," jungkook replies with his voice a little muffled and you turn to the open bathroom door, he's brushing his teeth. "you don't even have to ask." he adds.

"okay, thanks babe." you blow him a kiss and he winks at you before moving back to the sink.

you quickly find a nice oversized soft pink shirt with a darker pink drawing on it. you don't waste any time, taking your shirt off immediately and put his on, walking towards the mirror to check the look. it's a cute look, jungkook's shirt looks good with your baggy light blue jeans with wide pockets.

but you hate it. you like the fit but you hate how it looks on you. and it is all because of the same thing as always, your chest. your stupid chest that always ruins everything. you can see the curve on your shirt from your boobs even with your binder on and you fucking hate it. you hate it so much that when you look up to see the reflection of your face in the mirror you can notice how miserable you look all of the sudden.

it's not always like this. usually, you just suck it up because there's nothing you can do about it for now, but sometimes the dysphoria hits too much and it feels like you're drowning in all of your insecurities.

"ah, isn't that shirt cool?" jungkook speaks behind you and you turn around to look at him. his smile completely fades away as soon as he sees you. "what happened?" he asks, his wide eyes suddenly filled with worry.

you're so lucky to have jungkook, just one look at you and he already knows something is up. he always knows.

"i... i don't..." the worst thing is that you feel embarrassed to say it out loud.

jungkook has been your boyfriend for over two years. you met him when you had just started transitioning and he always supported you, right from the start. you know he will always be there to listen to your worries and insecurities because he loves you, so you shouldn't be embarrassed about things like this. but even after everything, it is still difficult.

you turn back to the mirror and take another look at yourself, slightly turning to check your profile. your shoulders drop and you sigh in disappointment when you can clearly see your stupid chest through the shirt.

"love." jungkook speaks with that gentle and careful tone, like he's thinking about what he could say to comfort you because of course he knows what's wrong. but he doesn't really say anything, he just walks up to you and wraps his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder and looking at you through the mirror.

"what?" you avoid his eyes as yours go down to your chest, then to his arms wrapped around you. he has strong arms and they make your body look so small when he holds you like this. you kinda wish you were also big and strong like him, the only thing that's keeping you from having another dysphoria breakdown over not being bigger is how nice it feels to be held by him.

"you look really cool." your boyfriend says as he looks up and down your body but you can only sigh.

"i look stupid." you say.

"you don't." he lifts his head from your shoulder to instead nuzzle against your neck, leaving a sweet little kiss on it.

"i do," you insist and jungkook's breath hits your neck from how he sighs. "i don't even know why you..." you shut your mouth before finishing the sentence because it would hurt too much to say it but jungkook looks up from your neck with a frown and rests his chin on your shoulder again, never breaking the backhug.

"why i what?" he asks curiously, his eyes narrowed as they look straight into yours through the mirror.

"i don't- i don't know why you like me." the knot in your throat almost doesn't let you finish the sentence but you somehow do.

"what?" jungkook frowns, he looks at you like you've said the craziest thing he's ever heard. "literally what the hell are you talking about?" he actually sounds mad and you flinch a little at the tone of his voice but he instantly turns you around to face him and he cups your cheeks with his hands. "can you please tell me why you think that?"

"it's not that i think you don't like me," you clarify, suddenly feeling even smaller. "but i don't know... you like boys, and i don't look like a boy. it feels like i'm not... manly enough." you mutter, your voice so quiet with embarrassment that you're sure jungkook wouldn't have heard you if he wasn't so close to you.

"are you a boy?" jungkook asks simply.

"jungkook-"

"are you?"

"yes."

"then why are you saying those things?" he brushes your cheeks with his thumbs. "i could not care less about what's under your clothes and if you look more or less manly, whatever the hell that means."

"but i care," you say and immediately look down when your voice breaks and the first tear rolls down your cheek. you can hear jungkook sigh, not an annoyed sigh but a defeated sigh, you know this is not easy for him either and you can't blame him. "i'm so tired." you put your hands over your face as you start crying and jungkook wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him in a warm hug.

"it's okay, love, i'm here." he rubs your back as you wrap your arms around his waist and bury your head on his chest, not having half a mind to feel bad for wetting his shirt with your tears.

"i just want to feel good with myself, it's all i've wanted for years, but it's so hard." you sob against his chest.

"i know it is." jungkook hums and holds your head to his chest with one of his hands, slowly brushing your hair to try and calm you down a little.

"i go out and strangers refer to me as a girl, i look in the mirror and i don't see a boy, my body sucks... i fucking hate it." you're full on sobbing now. you're crying like a baby and jungkook is so gentle with you, he holds you until your sobs have turned into little whimpers and a little headache is starting to bother you. that's what you hate about crying, the headache after.

"look at me, y/n." jungkook speaks softly, as if not to disturb you.

you look up at him and he quickly brings his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks gently and starting to wipe your tears away. "i'm sorry." you sniff and he frowns.

"why are you sorry, love?" jungkook leans down and leaves a kiss on your forehead that makes you feel a little giddy even in your current state.

"i don't know," you force a chuckle. "for crying over something so stupid."

"it's not stupid," he shakes his head. "it's something that is upsetting you, that's never something stupid."

"i love you." you say and feel a little better when he smiles.

"i love you too," jungkook gives your lips a little kiss. "and you look fucking cool with this fit." he adds.

"i don't," you insist and ignore the way he rolls his eyes to turn around again and look in the mirror. "i'll wear a big hoodie or something, anything that covers this." you point towards your chest in frustration.

"it's really hot outside, if you wear a hoodie you're gonna melt into the ground." jungkook says and sits on the edge of your bed, not taking his eyes off of you.

"i don't care," you say. "those are the types of things you have to endure, but you wouldn't understand," you turn around to gesture at him with your hand. "you already have that flat chest, you have nothing to worry about."

"don't hate the player." he puts his hands up and you can't help but chuckle a little.

"stupid..." you mumble as you go back to look for some other clothes in the closet.

"also, not to brag but i might have more boobs than you." jungkook jokes and you throw your head back in laughter. you appreciate that he knows how to make you laugh in moments like this.

"yeah, if you don't stop going to the gym." you say, going through his clothes.

"you want me to stop going to the gym?" he asks and you turn around to look at him. jungkook is looking at you with a dangerous smirk and a cocked eyebrow.

"careful," you warn him and he breaks in a laugh. "you know i don't want you to stop going." you walk towards him until you're standing between his spread legs.

"i know," jungkook hums as you run your hand through his soft hair. he puts his hands on your thighs as to keep you in place, his fingers playing with the side pockets of your jeans. "you love using my chest as a pillow, of course i would know." he says, making you laugh.

"they are really squishy." you bring your free hand to his chest and poke one of his pecs, making him squirm away from you.

"stop!" he giggles, grabbing your wrist to pull it away. he ends up intertwining your fingers together.

"you use my chest as a pillow too." you say as you keep playing with his hair with your other hand.

"should i not?" he asks, voice a bit softer now as he gives your hand he's holding a little squeeze. you know he's still careful around certain topics sometimes.

"you can, it's okay." you shrug with a little smile because you find him so cute.

"okay." he nods and suddenly lets go of your hand to wrap his arms around your middle and pull you closer, his head pressed to your stomach.

"will you... will you miss my boobs when i don't have them anymore?" you ask quietly. both of your hands are on his hair now, playing with the soft strands between your fingers.

"huh?" he hums.

"i mean, i know you like them..." you trail off but he doesn't say anything so you keep talking. "i wonder if you would prefer me with boobs."

jungkook pulls away just enough to look up at you. "what are you talking about?"

"i don't know."

"love, i just told you i don't give a shit what's under your clothes," he says. "i fell in love with you, not with your boobs, you know."

a little smile grows on your face. "i fell in love with your boobs, actually." you tease him and he chuckles a little.

"okay, but seriously," jungkook continues. "i'll like you just the same when you have a flat chest. i'll like you even more because i know you're gonna be a lot happier."

"so you don't care that i'm not gonna have boobs anymore?"

"even if i cared, who gives a fuck what i think about it?" he frowns. "you're the one who decides what you want to do with your body."

"i know." you nod.

"so please, don't let those ugly thoughts cloud that pretty head, okay?" he says as he slips his hands under your (his) shirt and places them on your waist, just leaving them there like he needs that skin to skin contact. "in my eyes you're fucking gorgeous now and you'll be fucking gorgeous after."

you can't help but smile and bend down a little to kiss him, your hands slipping down from his hair to his cheeks.

"i love you." you say after breaking the kiss.

"i love you more," he smiles and gives you another kiss. "you're so handsome, love."

"okay, enough with the praises," you giggle as you stand up straight again. "i know you enough to know where this is going and i don't wanna be late."

"it's not my fault you're horny all the time," he pouts and you gasp, letting your jaw drop dramatically. "you know it's true, so don't even try to act offended."

"i hate you." you sigh and turn around to walk back to the closet.

"you don't." he says and you can hear the smile in his voice.

you take jungkook's shirt off your body and grab one of his favorite hoodies, putting it on and walking to the mirror. you check your profile and sigh in relief at how the thick material doesn't let your chest pop out as much as the shirt, but you're still a little disappointed.

"you know i've been promoted at work, soon we will-"

"jungkook, stop." you cut him off, already knowing where this is going.

"soon we will afford the mastectomy." he says either way and you sigh, turning to him.

"you're not gonna pay for it, jungkook." you try to sound as serious as you can because you know how stubborn he is. you actually know he's not gonna listen either way because you've talked about this so many times before so you don't really know why you keep trying.

"i'm not gonna pay for it, i'm just gonna help." jungkook replies easily with a shrug of his shoulders.

"this is my thing, i have to pay for it myself." you insist.

"love, you know you can't afford it."

"that's why i'm saving up."

"and that's also why i'm saving up too, because i wanna help you pay it." jungkook says.

"jungkook."

"if we save up together this will be over sooner, do you know that?"

you go quiet.

"it breaks my heart to see you like this, to see you so frustrated because you want something and you can't have it." jungkook stands up and walks slowly towards you. "just let me help you. i want to do this with you." he takes one of your hands in his and you lower your head to look at them. your hands look so small in his, but that's also something you kinda like.

"i don't want you to waste money on me." you mutter.

"i'm not gonna waste that money," jungkook says. "thanks to that money i'm gonna see you happier and more confident than ever, i can't fucking wait to spend that money on it."

you exhale through your nose and lift your head up again to look at him. "you're too sweet."

"i know." he sighs dramatically, making you laugh again.

"i love you."

"i love you too," jungkook whispers before kissing you again. "my pretty boy."

"stop..." you warn him and he chuckles.

"c'mon, go get ready." he gives your ass a little slap.

"do you think i look good like this?" you step back a little to let him see the look.

"you look great," jungkook says. "i love it when you wear my clothes."

"i love wearing your clothes," you smile wide and grab your phone from the nightstand. "i should get going."

"mh, okay." he nods as he walks out of the bedroom, you follow him.

"don't wait for me, i'll probably be out until late." you tell him and jungkook hums.

"okay, tell eunji happy birthday for me." he says and walks to the couch, grabbing the remote from the coffee table before sitting down.

"i will." you say while he starts looking for something to watch on the tv. your gaze goes down to your body, fixing the hoodie a little.

"love," jungkook calls you and you look up, he's already looking at you. "you look so good." he says.

"do i really?"

"yes," he nods. "so good that if you don't leave now i won't be able to let you go."

you throw your head back as you laugh. "okay."

"have fun, keep me updated if anything happens." he tells you and you just hum.

"love you!" you say as you disappear down the corridor towards the door.

"love you more, handsome!"

-

-

-

A/N: i hope you liked this little fic !!! as a non binary person with craaaaaazy dysphoria this one has an important place in my heart, all of us live through these things in different ways but i hope you enjoyed this story. thank u for reading <3 let me know if you would like to read more about this couple in the future 👀

(also, i'm still working on the part two for basic needs so hang in there !! it's coming)

[butterflyinthewell]

A reminder:

Proship in fandom doesn’t mean liking all pairings or only liking really gross morally badwrong pairings. It means you don’t harass people for what they ship no matter how much you hate it.

It means you say “Ew” to yourself and block to avoid things you don’t want to see.

Someone ships a ship you think is disgusting? Fine! Block them! Now it’s gone. Buh-bye!

Yes, this applies to any pairings, don’t give me any “except for” or “unless it’s” crap. No excuses!

Proship has never meant condoning criminal acts or abuse irl.

If a proshipper sees a real life person in an abusive situation that matches to something they read or wrote in a fanfic, they won’t sit and think it’s sexy, they will be appalled and try to help the person escape.

The key here is proship means fiction is fiction and observing what someone engages with is not the only way to judge their moral character.

Because if that were true, why are fantis who engage with wholesome fandoms some of the most cruel, hateful people on the internet?

How come all their rage is towards sex and never looks twice at violence? They’re fine with violence until there’s sex involved, then all of a sudden it’s wrong. Fantis don’t speak on violence because they know they condone it and attacking it will rip apart all their baseless accusations and arguments.

Btw fanti arguments look identical to transphobic conservative arguments. Think about that. And I see so many of them do it with trans pride flags in their bios. 🙄

If a site gives you options to filter out content you don’t want to see and you won’t use them, and choose instead to harass people because you’re mad that your NOTP is everywhere, you’re nothing but a pathetic bully who brings nothing of value to fandom anywhere.

Btw, just an aside, I hate most of the same ships fantis hate and I don’t make that creators’ problems. I block and move on. I defend content I abhor in fiction because I know censorship will trash works by queer and marginalized people first.

Censorship is a steamroller, not scalpel.

Just look at what queerphobic conservatives are doing to queer content in schools and libraries. We don’t need that in fandom too. Get outta here with that.

[bestshipsmackdown]

I think, for the record, it takes a lot less effort to say “JKR is a pos and has caused unequivocal and irrevocable harm to a minority/marginalized community by using her money and voice to advocate against trans people, and I do not support her,” than it does to go on a rant about how no one is entitled to your “political opinions” on your poll blog. Because trans people should not be treated as a political novelty instead of real human beings. And even if your blog has “nothing to do with politics”, queer people are surprisingly not just whittled down to a political stance you can take, and I have no problem publicly stating that this blog is safe for the lgbt community and is not founded on bigotry.

Yes, I agree that, curating your internet experience is important, and that fandom is not necessarily made up of people likeminded to their creators. HOWEVER with HP, it is much more likely that you are transphobic when you publicly tolerate it. Seeing as that is the main trend when we observe blogs still circulating HP content.

I really never had intent to even allow JKR/HP to even appear on this blog because I wanted to be as far removed from it as humanly possible. Hence why I have, in the past, just deleted HP submissions without even ever stating they weren’t going to be apart of this poll.

All this to say, I followed a blog that allowed HP characters be apart of it’s poll (explicitly stated in the submission process), which was already a red flag. And then, to truly no one’s surprise, when they were (actually very politely, considering this is the internet) asked for their stance on JKR to make sure that it was a blog they were okay with following, they had a very long winded answer, without ever actually condemning JKR [links to give an example of my first thought of how their answer sounded] besides a throwaway line about “sins of the creator.” Which, if you publicly post HP, yeah you’re gonna be scrutinized on if you’re transphobic or not. That’s the risk you assume at the current time. Just kinda what happens when you support loudly transphobic people with no reassurance that you actually can separate the art from the artist.

Now, I have made a post about my views on separating the art from the artist, previously. And I still stand by that post. When I said “There’s some creators you can’t avoid how nasty they are, because they scream it from the rooftops,” and “There are some people who do things that are so far beyond wrong that they cannot be looked at without that standing out as the most important thing about them. Their failures as a human outweigh any good that has or could ever come from them.” I specifically had JKR in mind. It is common knowledge what kind of person JKR is at this point. There is no question on what she is.

I recognize that the person behind the poll blog, that this post is about, may not like my view on this or on their statement regarding it. And I do in fact classify them under my general “no creator is a good nor perfect person” umbrella. But I will not be attaching their name to this, as I do not want anyone to harass them about it. I do not want harm to come to them about this. I would hope they would rethink how they had answered and perhaps actually acknowledge that they aren’t transphobic. But considering that would have been the easy answer to begin with, they probably are transphobic, and that really sucks.

And to anyone reading this, please do not harass the person this is about, if you do find them, or know who they are already. They are entitled to their privacy and safety, they are not actively spreading hate nor harm.

The fault I saw was in the way in which they answered the question. Because while no one is entitled to their political opinions, trans people were largely not a “hot political topic” until JKR stuck her nose in it and changed the political landscape drastically to include the prosecution of trans people. So yeah, people wanting to know if someone posting content, from that monster, is in line with her way of thinking, is actually them making sure they can curate their internet experience, by giving you the chance to be a part of that experience, given you weren’t a transphobe. Because HP itself does not condemn people for their gender nor call for their removal in spaces specifically for their gender, the writer does. The creator is 100% the problem.

People are allowed to post about HP all they want. While HP has other issues beyond it’s creator, such as the antisemitism laced throughout (also at the hands of the creator, fancy that), it is possible for people to enjoy it while standing against the creator. But those who are able to do that, are generally the kind of people who could actually articulate that they do not support JKR. And if you can’t articulate that, then it’s pretty glaringly obvious why that is something you would rather not talk about. And people who enjoy HP, but do not support JKR and would like to ethically consume HP media (without the burden of JKR supporters) are absolutely going to ask if you support JKR when you don’t outright keep HP off your blog.

TLDR: JKR is a pos and has caused unequivocal and irrevocable harm to a minority/marginalized community by using her money and voice to advocate against trans people, and I do not support her. I don’t actually think anyone is a good nor perfect person in the black and white of things. Don’t harass creators who aren’t using their platforms to cause harm to people. I will not be advocating for the removal of any content, because I have a perfectly functional block button and so do you. Make sure to register to vote/vote in your elections. Queer people are not something you can be politically/socially/economically against or for, because queer people exist and deserve to be treated as humans. And uhhh cis/cisgender/cishet aren’t slurs.

[prismatoxic]

people who get pissy about trans headcanons are so wild. like any headcanons really, esp queer ones, but like... how is a character being trans hurting you... and yes that includes "being trans in a way I don't like", I see you, gatekeepers

I have my preferences. I have headcanons I don't enjoy or avoid, trans ones included. but that's a me thing. I support everyone's headcanons as long as they're not trying to enforce said headcanons on other people.

all that to say: making ptk chilchuck a messy, clueless trans man who isn't medically transitioned but did what he could anyway (legal gender change, voice training) is really important to me. he's been pregnant. he thinks about his past in she/her terms. he's defensive of his masculinity but is trying to trust that people see him the right way because being too defensive bit him in the ass once. he's not really dysphoric, but he used to be so dysphoric that he could barely be intimate with his spouse. he's not perfect pretty fully-transitioned rep, nor is he trans in passing. it's extremely important to the story, and it's a little rough around the edges.

that's something that matters to me: exploring this character I know through a lens I can understand. jals chilchuck has top surgery and is on T; a chilchuck for an upcoming au actively wears a binder. I want to explore transness via chilchuck in a lot of ways. (I have some cischucks in the works/planned as well.) and I'm not saying fully transitioned or vaguely trans characters are bad--far from it. what I'm saying is, I create what speaks to me, what makes me happy. what I enjoy.

people who headcanon characters in ways they understand or relate to can do so in any number of ways, for any number of reasons. it's not hurting anyone, least of all some dipshit who doesn't even want to read the story or look at the art. gender identity is so vast and varied across so many lives. it's so cool to see how people handle it, what they come up with. what matters to them. how they imprint upon the worlds they play in.

even in cases of things I want nothing to do with, it's so cool to me that those things are being made anyway. I just don't live in the same world as people who feel the need to tell someone "I don't like your headcanon, therefore it's wrong".

and, well, y'know. when people single out queer headcanons (and trans ones especially) it does come across as a little phobic, doesn't it.