#sure i was feeling gender dysphoria without knowing it

[chilipowder9]

I'm not comfortable sharing many details, but a conservative transman actually helped me on my gender journey to a point (stick with me, read the entire post, I don't piss on the poor)

he helped me realize that maybe I don't want to be a man, maybe I don't want to fully transition to Completely Male Man Testosterone Balls Guy Boy Man, and even though that snapped me back into forcing myself back into the female mold (that I disagree with regardless of gender but that's another post entirely) it led me to have longer to think about what specifically felt wrong about it all

it gave me real pause, it gave me time to think and process instead of my instinct of "everything wrong. change everything. become man. problem gone" when I know I wouldn't be alive if I had tried to transition to fully male, I would have similar problems with dysphoria that I do now, and would ultimately be worse off because where I really want to end up with my body is easier done with a "clean slate" so to speak

he also made me realize how much of this is literally "surely the jaguars won't eat MY face" because like I said in the beginning "conservative transman." he doesn't associate with transgenderism anymore, he calls himself a transsexual only, specifically because he believes that separates him from being a transman, he genuinely believes that it's okay that conservatives are now cracking down so hard that even the "good transgenders" are going to be hurt, because he thinks we brought it on ourselves

because some people really were predatory, as happens in any group, and happened to claim the trans group, regardless of actually being trans or not (I generally choose to believe so with very few exceptions), he blames us for it all, not taking into account the fact that predators exist in all groups of people in roughly the same exact rates (please feel free to correct me, this is an uneducated guess) so frankly that's a fucked up assumption to make

because some people really did freak out at small little things that really could have been handled either better or later, when bigger issues were already tackled, he blames us for it all, not taking into account that it was probably that whoever was being filmed had a bad day, and that the number of trans people really behaving like that at all, but especially on the regular are pretty damn small

after all this time, and after almost ten years of feeling affirmed by this man, and I feel genuinely betrayed that he's laughing, giddy about detransition threats, laughing about what happened in the UK, bragging about things his generation fought for being lost (he's like 60 something)

I don't honestly know why I wrote all this, but I feel like I'd be doing a disservice by just deleting it and forgetting about it, plus my hands are sore from typing so fuck you I'm not making that ache in vain, thank you for reading and sorry if I said anything shitty, I was given the language of alt-right fascists and it's currently still a struggle to balance that with modern language without sounding like a genuine idiot

If you actually take the threat of forced detransition seriously, then you should recognize "Conservative transphobes don't want to kill transmascs, they just want to detransition them" for the callous and out-of-touch statement that it is.

"Ugh, you're actually lucky they don't want to kill you, they just want to permanently cut you off from gender-affirming care, rape you, trap you in marriage and pregnancy, and force you to live the rest of your life as their property."

Wow, I feel so blessed.

[non-un-topo]

Every time I spend too many days in a row at home, I get it into my head that I don't actually want to transition, and then I go back into the world and go Oh. I remember what it's like to have a body and a mind.

[kennyisaloserr]

i think i might be transgender but is it bad to say that im trans if im not 100% sure /genq i dont wanna sound like mocking or rude or anything

-kenny

[jordblod]

i don't have enough words in me to describe the bone deep ache of feeling like u will never be able to give and recieve love and intimacy in a truly and fully satisfying way until you feel comfortable in your own body and knowing u probably never will achieve that feeling without having to go through severe loss of some of the most major things that keep you going as it is now

[genderkoolaid]

I feel like very few pro-trans people are talking about how the current moral panic about teens transitioning is explicitly centred on transmasc teens.

I’ve seen a lot of TERFs very explicitly cite the reason that they got involved in anti-trans campaigning was because more “girls” started transitioning in the 2010s (when before it had been more “boys.”) The initial survey on “Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria” by Lisa Littman surveyed parents of teens over 80% of whom were “female sex at birth.” The Cass Report is explicitly about “the reasons for the increase in referrals [to the NHS for youth transition] and why this increase has disproportionately been seen in birth registered females presenting in adolescence.” Probably the single most popular anti-trans book about youth transition is Abigail Shrier’s Irreversible Damage, which is about transmasc teens.

Not to say that transfem teens aren’t targeted, especially when it comes to sports & bathroom bans, and being painted as predators from a very young age — although there’s definitely also been a lot of hysteria about transmasc teens “seducing” other teens into transitioning, as well as being aggressive, and it’s not like transmasc teens don’t also get beat up in bathrooms.

But just! I don’t see most pro-trans people acknowledging that this whole anti-trans-teen movement was fuelled in a huge way by transandrophobia (or whatever you want to call it), and that one of its primary goals is stopping transmascs from having any agency over our own bodies. At its core, it’s about transmascs not being properly submissive baby-makers who are attractive to straight men and the property of their parents.

It’s not just about transphobia, it’s about transandrophobia specifically and the fact that people can’t even name that makes me doubt what I’ve seen with my own eyes.

(Follow up to my last ask about the trans teen moral panic) I don't think it would bother me so much except that I've so often seen people try to silence transmasc voices on this topic, or say that transmascs are just collateral damage, as if we're not one of the primary reasons it exists and one of its primary targets. I feel like "nothing about us without us" should apply here, you know?

All of this, absolutely.

I've seen people claim that actually, ROGD and its associated panic attacks are actually secretly about transfems at their core, because transfems are the (only) one's blamed for young girls transitioning! Which is fucking wild!!! Like not only is it not true (parents tend to blame social media, specifically transmasc creators who talk about transitioning) but like why do you have this impulse where even things that are blatantly targeting transmascs can't actually be about transmascs. Why are we always the insignificant side characters in our own experiences.

This is how erasure functions: if you can't deny that anti-transmasc violence is happening, deny that its happening to transmascs. Obscure the victims and how the violence is motivated by their transmasculinity.

& then there's also the way that people act like infantilizing misogyny is 1) the only thing any transmasc ever experiences 2) is Oppression Lite and is more annoying than anything. Like sure let's just forget all of feminism and the well documented ways in which being infantilized kills and ruins lives. Because when it's a transmasc it doesn't really count.

Ik somewhere out there there's a video of ContraPoints where she actually corrects another person on their erasure of radfem anti-transmasc rhetoric. Let's see more of that please.

[kortsitron]

Insecurity

✮ PARING Loki Laufeyson × Trans Male! Reader

✮ WARNINGS/TAGS fluff, body dysmorphia, insecurity, comfort, body worship, mention of gender dysphoria, established relationship, jotun! loki, reassurance, soft fic, spicy but no smut, bottom! loki

✮ SUMMARY Loki was always insecure of his body and you're here to show that you love him regardless 

✮ A/N This honestly came randomly to me while taking a look at Loki's design in Marvel Rivals. I was so confused as to why he would have so much armor/clothing. Not only do we get a glimpse of his skin only on his face but he also seems to be wearing a lot of layers too. And then I remember he is a Frost Giant and then I could understand if he perhaps had some kind of insecurity because of that, after all it would make a lot of sense. So that's why here's the fic because Loki deserves all the comfort and love he can get <3

ao3 masterlist requests

Ever since you started dating Loki, you had never seemed naked. Never. 

You weren't going to make him undress if he clearly wasn't comfortable with it. You just accepted that he wasn’t comfortable with showing his body and you decided not to press in the issue. Even though you honestly wanted to.

You wanted to know what was going with your partner. Why was he hiding his body from you? He knew he could trust you, right?

You found him lying in bed, reading some Asgardian book while the lamp from the nightstand eliminated his sharp features. Whenever he was reading, he had a small frown on his forehead, so focused on the contents of the book. This time was no different.

You laid down next to him, watching as he was engrossed by the book, silently admiring him. The way his gorgeous green eyes were entranced by the words before him or the way his raven black hair had fallen onto his shoulders. Or they way he would quietly lick his lips without even noticing it.

But he turned to look at you, his hand putting the bookmark inside his book before closing it. “Are you bored, my darling?” He asked with a soft expression before putting away the book, his chilly fingers moving against your forehead to push the strands of your hair back where they belong.

You shook his head, Loki tilted his. “Then what is it? You look as if you require some attention.” His hand moved to cheek, gently caressing it.

“I was just wondering…” You spoke up and he hummed in response.

“Wondering, you say? Perhaps we can wonder together.” His tone was soft and encouraging. It made you even more nervous to ask.

“Why do you always… hide your body so much?” The words finally left your lips and your mind. You had been wondering for so long and now you wondered what kind of answer you were going to get. Was he going to lie to you?

Loki's smile fell almost instantly when he heard your question. His hand stopped its motions as he thought about how to answer you without revealing too much.

You saw the flash of fear in his eyes. “I-I do not…” He wanted to disagree, say you're imagining things or anything else to not have this conversation. But he knew he could not hide the truth from you. You were telling him everything, all your troubles. It was not right for him to hide something when he knew he could trust you.

He looked deep into your eyes as if searching for any reason why he should not share his insecurities with you. Any reason to have an excuse to not have this conversation. But he found none. 

Loki let out a sigh. “I do not feel good about my own body…” He finally admitted, and you were not sure what to say. In Loki's mind, the silence was stretching for hours, even though it was actually just a few seconds.

“I must–” He moved to stand up, leave the bed and you. He was scared you were judging him, even though he normally knew you would never.

You grabbed his wrist gently, stopping him from leaving. “No, Loki. Please, let's talk.” He saw the pleading expression on your face, how much you wanted to help him, make him feel okay.

He sat back down, his hand grabbed yours as he was seeking your reassurance and support. He couldn't find the strength to look into your eyes as looked down at your hand. 

“Ever since I found out I was a Frost Giant, I couldn't… I did not want anyone to see my body anymore. Especially knowing how Thor and Odin used to hate Jotunheim and its people.” He explained taking a small breath and continuing.

“Even despite the fact that I know neither of them hate Jotuns anymore, I… couldn't help but hate that I was not one of them… not a true Asgardian like everyone around. How I could not fit it, always feeling like there was something wrong about me and I couldn't understand why.”

He finally looked up at you, so miserable and hurt. You knew he was Frost Giant, he told you so yourself and you never minded. But you didn't think it would be a reason for his insecurity.

“You're still the most gorgeous person in my eyes. And that won't change, that I can promise you.” You let go of his hand to cup his face. He leaned into your touch, leaning a soft kiss to your palm.

“Would you let me show you how much I adore you?” Your time was soft and the question caught Loki off guard.

Once more, he wanted to disagree. But at the same time, the thought of you showing how much you adored him sent a shiver down his spine.

“Yes, please.” His tone was a little husky, his eyes watching you, awaiting for what you were going to do.

You let go of his face, he was already missing your touch. Your hands moved to his shoulders, wanting to take off his robe. Your eyes found his, watching for any sign that you should stop. But you didn't, you only found anticipation.

You slowly slide the robe down his shoulders, his pale skin revealed to your eyes. His breathing hitched, he felt watched, but not judged.

“You're so pretty…” You whispered, wanting to reassure him. He felt so cold, but not in an unpleasant way. You saw him shiver beneath your touch and you smiled softly.

As his robe was finally off, you gently pushed him back on his. Your hand slided down his chest as you decided to speak up.

“I know how it feels when you're not happy with your body. Feeling how your body does not feel right, hiding it because you don't want anyone to see it.” You said softly. Loki needed to know he wasn't alone.

Loki's hands moved to your waist, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know, my darling. I'm glad to know I am not alone.” One of his hands moved to the back of your head, pulling you closer.

“Kiss me, dearest…” He whispered before your lips met his in a slow, gentle kiss.

As the two of you kissed, you felt something under your fingers and as your eyes fluttered open, you saw Loki in his true form.

Blue skin with some lighter marks and lines, and the most beautiful crimson eyes you've ever seen.

“Wow…” You whispered, eyes widening as you took in the view. He was lovely and perfect just the way he was.

“I hope the view is to your liking.” His voice was quiet, with a hint of insecurity.

You let out a soft chuckle. “It is to my liking. As you are as a whole.” Leaning down, you kissed his neck, a soft whimper falling from Loki's lips. And you slowly went down. You kept kissing him, giving him little appreciative touches here and there. You saw how he was letting go, relaxing under your touch. 

You could practically feel him melt under your touches and kisses. His soft, cold skin felt so perfect under your lips. Whimpers and soft moans falling from his lips, along with your name. He kept repeating it almost as if it was a prayer.

“Don't stop, my love…” He breathed out, his fingers tangling itself in your hair. 

“I am not playing on doing so…” Another soft moan escaped his lips as you said that, kissing down his stomach. It was going to be a very long night.

[patricia-taxxon]

think the transmedicalism comparison is less like "ooh yeah you're . like gender is fake" or whatever, and more uh. like imagine a post that was like "you're not oppressed just b/c people who are more trans than you are mean to you online, especially when you're not even claiming to have any dysphoria" or "watching nondysphoric trans ppl talk about being valid is digital selfharm". like you dont have to go after specific ppl for ppls response to still be like: oh hm, not sure I like that. bit different than just being vaguely negative abt them yknow? anyway

You know what, yeah, on some level it is triggering to me when I expose myself to the online communities of groups I'm supposedly a part of and the discussion is primarily taken up by people for whom their greatest oppression is a denial of validity and understanding in online spaces, but that's a me problem. Usually what I say to myself is that I must not be an additional voice on top of neurotypical/cis society denying that validity, but with pluralblr it feels different. The gender/religion side of that community is such an overwhelming majority and it caused me so much grief and confusion in my early stages of realization through its insistence that it represents the thing that I am experiencing. And of course, it's not just "talking about being valid," its claims that non-disordered systems are the REAL victims of ableism, dogmatic de-centering of adverse effects and smothering positivity. It's like if medical transition was so taboo that people could reasonably go a year participating in trans communities without ever hearing about it. yknow? anyway

[velvetvexations]

on the subject of binary trans women acting like being alienated from gender is a transfem exclusive experience and therefore there are no binary trans women, i notice that when trans men talk about having a complicated relationship with femininity and masculinity along those same lines, it tends to get used as evidence that trans men "fall back on" their agab or use it in a manipulative way. it just gives away how much of this ideology revolves around resentment

It is literally one thousand percent massive resentment because they struggle with feeling like women internally and abusing the people who make them feel insecure soothes the dysphoria for a moment before they fall back into a sobbing fit over how dysphoric people who aren't even women are oppressed more directly in a way aligning with the cishetpatriarchy's perceptions of womanhood, as opposed to our equally bad but differently perceived social class of degenerate faggot. That isn't very gender affirming for anyone involved, which is why this is true of a lot of transmasc TRFs as well, who act like trans men who think they're oppressed are hysterical pussies who need to man up.

A lot of self-identified TMEs are just genuinely trying to be a good ally, but the other type is what really makes it work. See here the symbiotic relationship:

This kinna vacuous garbage serves the dual purpose of letting the transfem radfem indulge in this play acting of desperate and teary eyed relief as as if having just been rescued from drowning, as well as giving transmasc TRFs the status of invincible totally-a-respected-member-of-the-patriarchy-wymyn-protector. For all transfem TRFs talk about how you can only trust trans women, whenever they do praise the 'good' transmascs they sound like tradwives who go through elaborate home lockdown procedures every time their man is out of the house.

I don't think it's a coincidence that I strongly feel as though most if not all of the self-identified TMEs I've seen whose hearts seem to be in the right place are non-binary, whereas most of the trans men are just complete assholes and often transmisogynistic to me personally. That's probably not true across the board, I'm sure there are asshole non-binary SI TMEs and misguided trans men, but the numbers are unquestionable imo.

And it's so, so, so funny that all the anons I've gotten thanking me for standing up for trans men, I'm pretty sure all of them without exception were about how I made them feel cared for, whereas radfems are specifically thankful for the hostility towards the people she hates. What makes a good antigonistic transfem is showing mutual love and support for everyone in the community; what makes a good transmasc TRF is that he's eager to tear down others. It's actually not dissimilar to how heterosexual TERFs praise their husbands, although I've yet to see the infighting that causes with TERFs, probably because even the transbian separatists just find it validating.

It's all so fake and hollow. A grotesque performance. I feel like I'm watching Théâtre des Vampires, except there's a dozen Baby Lulus and they're all thrilled.

In both cases I don't know how they don't collapse into a puddle of shame every time someone looks at them.

[ally1uvsu]

Breathe. | Choi su-bong (Thanos) x Nam-gyu

Summary; Where Nam-gyu basically has a breakdown inside the bathroom followed by huge dysphoria and the person he least expects talks him through it all.

Info; Gender dysphoria, trans!Nam-gyu, it’s like one of my hcs pls don’t attack me, anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of death (avrg squid game behavior), drugs, mentions of blood, idiots in love, kissing, actually js fluff mixed w angst, Nam-gyu w sensory issues if you squint!!, self-harm but without necessarily cutting, suicidal thoughts, bathroom fight shit doesn’t happen for their sake, they’re both emotionally constipated, Thanos just being Thanos honestly, coming out of the closet, unbinding, bruises, cuddling, acceptance, probably ooc but again who cares, just tbh actual tooth rotting comfort for our boy<3

Notes; I think writing became sort of a hyperfixation.. it’s so bad I gen can’t sleep so here you go goobers! Also don’t attack me for the trans nam-gyu hc I js saw that man and I was like; ‘this one’s going to my big hcs list’..

Nam-gyu has been feeling shaken ever since they came back from that stupid mingle game, sure, he was high off his mind just like Thanos was but.. he wasn’t sure why he felt so shaken up. The blood tainted his once pristine white sneakers, making him grimace as he remembered the pools of blood on the floor.

Fidgeting with his anxiety ring, Nam-gyu bit the inside of his cheek as he pushed the bathroom door open. He could still very clearly hear the screams and shouts of the people dying outside, the cries piercing his soul. He cursed under his breath, leaning against the sinks.

It took him a bit to realize his hands were fucking shaking like hell. He brought a hand up to his hair to tug on it, feeling that desperate urge again. But he stopped, instead, he kept his gaze down on the sink as that same hand that was once meant for his hair turned the tap on.

He splashed cold water onto his face, once, twice, thrice. And then with the support of both hands, he looked at himself in the mirror, he still had fucking blood smudged on his face. His stomach churned, the back of his hand wiping the blood away, completely forgetting about the tap, rather, he just let the water keep running.

Nam-gyu couldn’t help but stare at himself in the mirror, had the drugs seriously worn off that quickly? No, he didn’t think so. Maybe the real problem was him, he hated feeling affected by that stupid fucking game.

But of course he was the problem, it wasn’t a surprise. From a problem to another, as quick as it came, his thoughts began scattering, his hand fidgeting with his ring viciously as he tried to will his body and mind to calm the fuck down.

Again, Nam-gyu looked at himself, really did. And he cringed at the sight, some of his hair was sticking to his face, he looked exhausted, which was no surprise. And then finally, his gaze focused on himself overall, most importantly, his features. He remembered Thanos, hell, he was so.. masculine.

It wasn’t only his personality, but his looks. Compared to how he looks, Nam-gyu looked horribly like a girl, something he despised to be or even think he would ever be. But in this moment, he just knows he looks like a girl.

Nam-gyu cursed under his breath as he ducked his head down, nimble fingers tightening around the sink as he tried to at least regulate his breathing, but he felt sick to his stomach. Not only because of that stupid round but because of himself.

The way he looked made him want to carve himself out, maybe get out of this skin somehow that seemed to trap him in a place where he felt like he was constantly going to lose his fucking mind.

He shivered, fuck, when had he gotten so cold? The feeling wasn’t exactly unwelcome, anything rather than this was.

He swallowed hard, feeling the itch on his skin. He got that whenever he was in moods like this, it’s as if his body knew he wanted to claw himself out of it, it was ironic.

Nam-gyu felt nothing short of pathetic, and yet he began itching his skin. He damned himself for not bringing a small knife with himself, it could have done wonders to what hems feeling right now.

The itching just intensifies, it begins to hurt. But it’s a welcome feeling of pain. His mind drags him to the lifeless corpses he could see through the slit on the door, eyes glazed and blood seeping out of them as the gunfire ceased.

Nam-gyu could feel his vision get blurry, slowly, reverently but surely. He bit down on his lip, the hand that wasn’t viciously scratching his arm as if to try to get himself out was clenched in a fist, his nails, albeit short, dug into his skin.

He was crying again, Nam-gyu hated feeling like this. Hell, he hated everything. He just desperately needed to get out, or maybe all he needed was a bullet in his brain, out there he was nothing and in here he was worse than nothing. Maybe he could steal a pill or two from Thanos to calm his nerves, but it didn’t feel ideal, especially when he became sober so quickly.

His mind felt hazy as he furiously scratched and dug his fingers and clawed at his skin in his arms, he couldn’t see because his eyes were so damn foggy. He couldn’t hear anything since the only thing he could hear was his heart beat thudding strongly in his ears, a sickening reminder he was still alive and would be inside this fuckass body.

He bit his lip to stifle what he guessed was a sob, his hands were shaking again, and Nam-gyu felt like he couldn’t fucking breathe. His chest felt heavy, too constricted to suck in too much breath, the exact amount he needed.

He winced as he moved, the pain finally seeping in. He remembered binding tightly before leaving to this place, so.. he probably hasn’t taken this stupid binder in three days straight, oh, Nam-gyu bet this would do a number on this situation.

A quiet sob left his lips as his legs wobbled, doubling over while one hand still held tightly onto the sink, the water still running. His legs felt like jelly as his hand went to his chest, this was pure fucking torture at its finest, even though this was his own fault.

The reason why he’s like this right now is because he isn’t a fucking boy, Nam-gyu gritted his teeth. He would be able to breathe properly if he was a boy, he wouldn’t need to bind his stupid chest if he wasn’t a boy, he wouldn’t need to cry himself to sleep or fight with internal transphobia if he was a boy, Nam-gyu was just playing a boy, he realized. Or maybe it was just his mind speaking.

He only panicked further when he couldn’t breathe properly anymore, he was practically wheezing. And he was alone in the damn bathroom.

But not for long, really. Because Thanos apparently couldn’t leave people fucking alone when they took too long. Thanos, as always walked in carelessly, not noticing the scene at first.

"Hey, Nam-su, you were taking forever, bro. What else could be better than talking to the great Thanos?" But the next moment, Thanos knew something was off. First of all, he didn’t get a reply, and second of all, he could hear quiet sobs.

His gaze darted around until it fell on a familiar bob, Nam-gyu was sunken to his knees, shaking. Visibly crying and wheezing for air, Thanos didn’t know how to react. He was never good at comforting people, and wasn’t the best with making them feel better through words.

And yet, either way, his feet unconsciously moved to Nam-gyu as he crouched down in front of him. The other man seemed too caught up in his panic to notice, so, gently, Thanos reached out very slowly and wrapped his hand around Nam-gyu’s wrist.

The eyes that met his own were all familiar, but also weren’t. Nam-gyu had a huge ego and was a huge goof, but now.. Thanos couldn’t help but frown as he saw the tears clinging to his eyes as they slipped down, collected on his chin and then fell. His gaze was wild, hell, almost even scared. Thanos was definitely sure this was the closest to frightened he’d ever see Nam-gyu get.

"Nam-gyu, hey, hey man look at me." Thanos said as he held the other’s chin, it was almost scary how he was shaking so badly. "You need to take a breather, you look like you might run out of breath." Thanos said, but it didn’t do anything. Goddamn it, Thanos hated not knowing what to do, hated feeling powerless.

"I c-" He heard Nam-gyu choke out, was he trying to say 'I can’t'? Thanos was worried as hell, he couldn’t understand shit while his friend was nearly out of fucking breath.

Nam-gyu’s hand clawed at his chest, as much as he felt scared to come out, which mingled with his whole anxiety, Nam-gyu felt like he was being tortured. And thankfully, Thanos got the hint. "Is it something wrong with your chest?" He asked as he saw how Nam-gyu seemed to try to get something out. So instead of questioning, he shut up and began taking the tracksuit jacket with the other’s number off. Then, his shirt.

Thanos could easily tell Nam-gyu was almost afraid of this, he was hesitant, tense, even. But if this was cutting off his air supply, Thanos would have to get whatever this dude was using or wearing off.

His lips parted in a small 'O' as he caught the sight of a chest binder, but he brushed it off, now wasn’t really the time to be shocked. "You need to get this off before you pass out or some shit." Thanos said, and Nam-gyu just nodded, feeling lightheaded already, sobbing hurt, trying to suck in a breath hurt like a bitch.

He turned around with his back to Thanos as he felt the other unclasp the binder, his hands were too shaky to work something out, and he felt instantly relieved, like a pressure in his chest was gone, but he still couldn’t properly breathe. But before he could ponder on it too much, Thanos was already speaking up.

"Try to match your breathing rhythm to mines, in and out very slowly." He finally said, and Nam-gyu complied. After what felt like five minutes, Nam-gyu finally had managed to breathe. Calming down as he let out a shuddering sigh, sniffling and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Great, now he had a headache and he felt pathetic.

He had forgotten about his binder, though. He was snapped out of it when Thanos began awkwardly talking; "You uh, really shouldn’t use that thing for too long. It was too tight, dumbass." The words didn’t have his usual bite to it, he seemed almost.. worried, as if he would be, Nam-gyu thought.

"What else would I wear, then, genius?" He snorted, actually caught off guard when he felt his shirt slip back on and the sound of a jacket unzipping. He turned around to see Thanos handing him his jacket, for some reason it was somewhat baggier than his own. Or maybe Thanos was just looking for an excuse for Nam-gyu to wear it. Either way, he was quick to put it on and zip it up. Maybe he was right, plus, Nam-gyu didn't want bruised ribs.. more than they already were. And his chest really wasn’t that hard to hide either way, Nam-gyu was just a bit paranoid over it, and binding felt more safe.

He sat down and leaned against the wall with his head tilted back, he felt exhausted, really. The silence became somewhat awkward with a tinge of comfort. "I’m not going to judge you, you know that, right?"

Nam-gyu paused, finally catching Thanos’ eyes. "You don’t have to lie if you find me a freak, I mean, hell I’d understand if you didn’t want a fake b—" Before the final words of the sentence could even tip off his tongue, Thanos shushed him.

"Do not say that, you hear me?" Thanos scoffed. "To me, you’re still the same crazy junkie who gets me, I’m not about to kick you out." Nam-gyu felt a weird flutter in his chest and maybe more weight being lifted off of his shoulders.

"I don’t see you any differently from how I used to." Thanos added, averting his gaze. "So, you’ll still give me the pills?" Nam-gyu added jokingly, but deep down he was being slightly serious, as much as he relied on Thanos, those pills kept him somewhat more sane to not hurt himself. "You never change, do you? I would call you a drug addict but I’m nowhere better."

Nam-gyu sniffled, ducking his head down as he let out a quiet smile before looking back up again, and then, their faces were a bit closer than he initially thought they were. And Thanos was looking at his lips. And then the next second, he felt his lips on his own.

They were slightly cracked, chapped against his own as he kissed him back, nothing too rough or demanding, it was pretty.. gentle. His lips felt sweet, and he found himself leaning into it, it was weirdly calming. Soothing to his soul in a way he didn’t quite dislike.

And yet, the moment was just ruined by a guard knocking on the door loudly declaring the lights would shut off soon. They both broke away, and Nam-gyu shoved his binder somewhere inside his pocket, ignoring how it appeared like a bundle inside of it and cleaned his face, following right behind Thanos who went in front.

As expected, most players were already in bed by the time they were there back, Nam-gyu really just felt the need to knock the fuck out, it felt like the only thing that would really calm his headache down.

As they walked towards their designed bunks, Nam-gyu held onto Thanos’ pinky finger, letting the other just lead him, really. He didn’t think much of it when Thanos finally lay down and motioned for him to do the same.

Nam-gyu lay next to Thanos with his back pressed to his chest, closing his eyes that were so heavy that he thought he might as well fall asleep standing up. He felt one arms around his waist, and one on his hair, deftly twirling a strand. It was easy to lull him to sleep, he was already pretty much exhausted anyways.

Maybe Thanos wasn’t the worse person in the world, in the end.

I wrote this while half asleep and while I did my biology work, srry for anything. Also I am not transgender so forgive me if I did anything wrong, I didn’t mean to be offensive in any way!! Anyway, enjoy<3

[sparklemaia]

Heyyy!!

So I've recently read a lot of your comics about top surgery, and I really resonate with your experience (I haven't had it myself but I'd like to). I've recently been exploring my own gender and realising I might be non binary, but I guess I feel sort of an imposter in that I want to keep my name and pronouns (afab), despite feeling like I never got the memo about what a "woman" is, which I know is fine, but I guess I was wondering how the shift from your agab into realising you were nb felt?

Like, you seem to describe your gender as sort of unknowable and indefinable, and I guess that's sort of how I feel? I just want to be... More me. I guess what I'm really asking is, how would you define/feel about that shift into realising you were nonbinary, do you still feel connected to your agab, how do you reconcile the two?

Sorry for the long ask!

Hi, this is such a good question! I actually DO still feel pretty connected to my agab. I feel like I am a girl but also more than a girl but also not enough of a girl, simultaneously. (Weirdly, I never ever feel like a woman, and definitely not a man, but I do feel like an adult at least some of the time.) Top surgery was 100% the right decision for me; my body feels so much more correct and I am grateful every single day this procedure was accessible to me. (I was on a low dose of T for a year and a half too, and I basically just got biceps and a sliiiightly lower voice out of it. We stan.) I simply don't have strong feelings about how these things do or do not map onto gender identity or other people's perceptions of my gender. I am generally perceived as female, and that's fine! Like, close enough! I often feel somewhere BETWEEN cis and trans, or even between cis and nonbinary, and sometimes I joke that I'm just "nonbinary for insurance purposes." I mostly use she/her pronouns, although won't object to they/them. I like my "feminine" name -- I chose it myself years ago for reasons unrelated to gender and I have no plans to change it again. In terms of gender presentation I'm usually somewhere in the "tomboy femme" zone. Basically, I've been through a medical transition but not a social transition. Which is not very common, or at least I haven't seen much representation of it! (Be the bad trans representation you want to see in the world, i guess??)

Even though the words are often used interchangeably, I feel more alliance to genderqueer as a label than nonbinary, because nonbinary feels too clinical and "third checkbox"y to me, whereas genderqueer feels more expansive and undefinable and dynamic, with space for the ways in which I both am and am not performing girlhood correctly. When pressed to pick a gender word for myself, that one feels the closest. But if I'm filling out a government form or whatever? Yeah sure F is fine.

A lot of where I land with this stuff, though, is just kind of relaxing my grip on language. Top surgery was a relief, it helped me feel present in and connected to my body. Ultimately it doesn't matter much to me how much of that was *gender* dysphoria and how much of it was just... something I wanted, a way to make my body feel more like mine, to align my mental image of myself with the thing I had to stuff into clothes and walk around the city every day. I believe very strongly in bodily autonomy, and in making our lives as easy and comfortable and joyful as we can for ourselves, without needing to have a clean and tidy explanation for our choices. It is very possible to know with reasonable certainty that you want something, that it will be a net positive for your life, without being able to articulate, even to yourself, WHY you want it. It doesn't need to have a bigger meaning than ahh yes, this feels right. At this point in my life, I'm more invested in marveling at the sheer improbability of my own existence than in wedging myself into the taxonomy of known and acceptable gender narratives. I'm just a person, here for the merest twinkle of a moment in cosmic history, making soup and knitting baby hats and admiring bugs and singing off-key and cutting my own hair and doing my gosh darn best to light my tiny patch of night sky with stories so that you (and you, and you) feel less alone on your own journey through the unfurling dark. Gender is just such an inconsequential detail in the narrative of my life, and pretty open to reader interpretation anyway.

Not having to wear bras is pretty great though ngl

[genderqueerdykes]

so this is very embarrassing to admit but im a full grown adult now (18), and i moved away from home to start my life over and hopefully transition. but i realized very recently that because of my dysphoria i actually never took anything in during sex ed (which was very bad to begin with) and i know nothing about my body as is. i'm 18 uears old and my body is not just not what i want it to be but i don't even know what steps i'd like to take in making my body my own because i know nothing about the body i currently have.

i dont know how my body works, i dont know what surgeries will do what. i feel so stupid and lost and embarrassed and going to a doctor for this seems even scarier now with the realization i don't know words to describe my parts, i don't know even the most basic of processes. please please please tell me you have resources for me?

if relevant, i'm afab and looking into masculinizing processes. though i'm sure that there's gotta be other folks in different bodies than mine that are just as lost... i just dont know how to start searching without feeling strange and alien. sorry for being rambly, you're just someone i trust to go to with this and i'm very lost.

i'm sorry you've been made to feel this way, but i'm saying this to reassure you:

nobody is a full grown adult at 18!

you literally just became an adult. you're a beginner at it. a "full grown adult" is someone who is 50+. don't let people worry you too much about your age. you're still developing as a person. you're very, very young. what sort of information do you need in specific? what do you need to know about how your body works?

these may help you for the time being:

Transbucket - A website containing information about medical transition including surgeons and reviews, before and after surgery results, cost of surgeries, and more.

TransGuySupply - Chest binders, packers, STP devices, and more.

TopSurgery.net - Website for locating top surgeons.

Underworks - Safe, trusted medical grade chest binders.

What do I need to know about transitioning? (Planned Parenthood)

I Think I Might Be Transgender - A pamphlet for potential/trans youth, with quotes from other trans youth.

r/FtM - reddit support community for transmasculine individuals.

FtM Surgery Overview (Crane Center for Transgender Surgery)

Metoidioplasty Overview (Crane Center for Transgender Surgery)

Phalloplasty Overview (Cleveland Clinic)

Phallo.net - Phalloplasty ExplainedMetoidioplasty.net - Metoidioplasty ExplainedVagina-Preserving Phalloplasty Overview (Phallo.net)

Non Binary Options for Metoidioplasty (Metoidioplasty.net)

More information on vagina-preserving phalloplasties (Queerdoc)

List of informed consent clinics in the United States that provide gender affirming care services.

National Center for Transgender Equality - Find out how to update your name and gender on state and federal IDs and records (United States)

Guidelines for the Primary and Gender-Affirming Care of Transgender and Gender Nonbinary People - UCSF Transgender Care

Rainbow Health Ontario - Social Transition

you can find the above and a lot more on my queer resources page:

if you would like more info on general sex ed, please check out this blog, they post lots of great information:

@certifiedsexed

feel free to come back with more specifics, i'll be happy to help with what i can!

[dateamonster]

would love to read more takes on monstrosity playing with either like existing or fictionalized gender dynamics. i feel like ive seen a few now along the lines of "this monster species is naturally androgynous/doesnt have a human-analogous concept of gender" which is cool for sure but i havent rly seen much beyond that. and thats a shame because i think there are a lot of interesting ways that could go!

monster has a traditionally masculinized/feminized appearance by human standards that they dont identify with and are vocal about such (ie: they are not a "woman" whatever the fuck that is and will make sure you know it.)

monster has an androgynous/flexible appearance but for personal reasons identifies resolutely with a human gender (ie: she is a woman and, once again, will make sure you fucking know it.)

monster identifies with a gender specific to their species which, like with conventional human gender standards, implies specific social codes of conduct that cause friction when interacting with humans who obviously dont have a frame of reference (ie: an alien refuses to interact with the scientist who has consistently bungled the accent on the aliens formal third person pronouns, an insult punishable by exile on the aliens home planet.)

monster comes from a species whose gender and/or sex characteristics are dependent upon specific conditions which are difficult or impossible to account for while amongst human society (ie: the monsters human companions fail to realize that without other women of his species present his body will naturally begin to feminize to compensate for the perceived absence.)

the one i just did but i make it silly :) (ie: women of this species are all violent freaks and so you need to let her kill and murder and rip and tear asunder or else youll literally give her dysphoria you wouldnt do that to a pretty girl would you)

ok i unfortunately realized while writing that last one thats just how some actual human men relate to their gender rip

post cancelled i hate this fucking world cant even be silly and gay anymore without having real world social awareness

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hi! last anon here again. i won't go over all your advice here, and there's some i disagree with, but i have found it helpful and insightful as a whole, so thank you. i don't know if you actually wanted clarification on these things, but i figured it would be worth providing in case you genuinely wanted it.

straps as female disidentification - i do see it as different from other sex aids; it's partially about not imposing man/woman sex dynamics on sex between women, and also that as part of recovering from trans identity i've been encouraged to disengage with any practices, thoughts, or self-beliefs that represent false consciousness/male identification, and that includes a desire to have a penis/penetrate women/take the male role, and replace that with meditation and mindfulness. unfortunately i suck at meditation so i haven't gotten anywhere. i see it more as a behavioural problem than an object problem; it's unhealthy because it's a maladaptive coping mechanism about reality; i don't have a penis and can never have one and pretending i do during intimacy is hurting a theoretical sex partner.

female infantilization - this is about the bush thing; attraction to shaved vulvas is dysfunctional and unnatural.

being put off women's bodies - again this is a dysphoria thing mostly. i like how pretty much all women's bodies look, particularly femmes, and before radfem stuff i mostly just felt horny seeing nude women, but being in an environment that's very focused on the importance of reproductive organs and secondary sex characteristics to female identity has involuntarily caused me to fixate on this; when i see a woman naked i end up thinking about her uterus and the size of her breasts and her hips in relation to passing; i know that things like testosterone/hysterectomies/double masectomies/binding are really unhealthy for you physically and psychologically now, so seeing a woman's body makes me uncomfortable now because i just feel a kind of despair that if she has big breasts or big hips she'll never be able to pass for male without hurting herself and if she has small breasts or hips she got lucky with natural androgyny and she's wasting it, either way neither her or me have any way out of this and we're female forever. which is not very arousing.

once again, thank you for your advice. it's definitely given me a lot to think about (and read). i appreciate you hearing me out.

I'm actually stoked for a response, because these clarifications are very illuminating and genuinely so saddening to read.

that entire paragraph about disavowing the strap is genuinely tragic to me, as an advocate that people should just fuck however they want to fuck. you'd think if womanhood was such an innate and unchangeable thing then a fake dong wouldn't have the power to somehow impose manhood in a relationship between women, but I guess the strap is more powerful than I realized. I would love to know if this applies to fingering, given that you can't really argue that fingers are specific to any gender, or women who use straps to peg their male partners.

being told to meditate instead of want to fuck women is so funny, it's really giving 15th century nunnery.

you may not have been born with a penis but it is just literally a factual reality that you could have on if you wanted; regardless of what radfems think of it, phalloplasty is a very real surgery that can in fact produce a sexually functional penis that many people are extremely satisfied with.

okay sure super normal to fixate on someone's uterus.

I do actually very seriously need to correct this part: testosterone/hysterectomies/double mastectomies/binding are not unhealthy. they're healthcare, and the people who benefit from them - which, reminder, is not only trans people - tend to experience tremendous boosts to their physical and mental health because of it. there's nothing radical at all about opposing people's rights to determine what they do with their own bodies, and between that and the hyperfixation on reproductive organs you sound /this/ close to explaining why women shouldn't be allowed to get abortions.

in the politest way possible if looking at women makes you sad because it reminds you of your own dysphoria, you need to get out of radfem spaces and start hanging with some trans people who can help you figure some stuff out and help you envision a future where you don't fear your own body and sexuality.

[until-the-house-shakes]

Adding on from this post

Remus and James went through so many lengths to find Barty, Evan, and Pandora to reunite them with Regulus. It was not easy either, because Barty and Evan always move around and change their phone number while Pandora is off the grid seven months out of the year. But after a month of searching they found them and regulus had his friends back.

Regulus cannot sleep by himself. For the first couple weeks he would sleep only with Sirius, but as he got more comfortable he was able to sleep with his other friends and James. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to sleep alone however.

James offers Regulus all his hoodies and sweats (which swallow Regulus) to hide his baby bump because he knows Regulus HATES how he looks.

James’ parents absolutely ADORE Regulus. They spoil him rotten and demand ‘son’ time with him. He gets brunch and tea with Effie, and bakes with Monty. The three of them plus Lily, Remus, and a few of Effie/Monty’s friends are in a book club together. Effie and Monty keep hinting at Regulus giving them the baby but he doesn’t want to burden them with it because of their age. (Effie wants a grand baby so badly so she doesn’t give a shit).

Sirius goes with Regulus for all his appointment. He is the one to ask all the questions and straight up threatens the doctor whenever they accidentally misgenders Regulus.

By month seven, Reg and James are basically dating, but without any label. Regulus is still technically married to tom, but Monty used to be a lawyer, so he knows the best people to help Regulus finalize the divorce. This plus his vast amount of trauma keeps him from feeling comfortable putting a label on him and James, but he always makes it clear he loves James and only James.

Regulus has the worst pregnancy hormones. By month 6th, the entire house is on edge and is so scared of making any wrong move. Once Sirius brought home Chinese take out when Regulus said a few hours earlier he was craving Indian, and Regulus had the worst tantrum. James fixed this by making one of Effie’s recipes by scratch.

 Here is where I am still deciding on different endings.

Regulus keeps the baby

One rule Sirius implemented for Regulus to stay with him was that he had to go to therapy. During his months of therapy, he became more sure of his gender identity and very comfortable with the idea of reclaiming his child and raising his child in a happy, healthy, and loving environment. Plus he will raise this kid with James, and everyone else by his side.

He decided during month 8 he was keeping the kid, so it was very hectic trying to make a nursery, baby proof the house, and prepare everyone for parenthood. Effie and monty were a HUGE help during this month.

James is instantly wrapped around the baby’s finger (as is everyone else) and is so crazy protective of both the baby and Reg since the birth.

Regulus decides to name the baby Harry, because it was a name James always adored, and it was also the name Effie wanted to use if she ever had the opportunity to have another kid. The entire Potter family sobbed when they learned what Regulus was going to name Harry.

After childbirth, regulus suffers from awful dysphoria and postpartum depression. James, Sirius, and Barty never leave Reg’s side. At least one of them are next to Reg at all time and keeps him occupied. Evan and Remus are the ones to keep the house clean, do chores, and keep Reg and the others fed. Pandora and Lily help with child care. (Plus everyone else of course but this is the main ‘what they do to help’)

Effie and Monty already signed themselves up for baby sitting duty. Doesn’t matter when or where. They will be free upon request. 

Sirius and Remus are Harry’s godfathers. They all call him prongslet as well. Evan and Barty call him bug.

Wolfstar adopts the baby

They name the baby Teddy, and call him cub (Remus) and Bud (Sirius)

James is the Godfather while Marlene is the godmother.

It was very weird for Regulus to watch the kid he birthed grow up, not knowing he is his father, but it is still healing in a way.

Regulus ended up moving out of their house right before child birth, and into a small apartment with James, which does help, but still makes him feel a little odd.

He obviously still receives therapy, and sadly still suffers from postpartum depression. Barty and James are watch dogs for him and Evan buys him a cat to help him cope.

It takes Regulus a solid six months to be able to hold Teddy without crying and regretting all his decisions out of impulse.

As Teddy goes up, Regulus is that cool uncle and is super over protective of him.

Give me more ideas!!! Maybe the more i flesh this out the more likely I am to write this lmao

[kortsitron]

Corruption

✮ PARING Hobie Brown × Trans Male! Reader

✮ WARNINGS/TAGS reader realizes he's trans, pre-transition reader, religious themes, christianity, fluff, angst, supportive! hobie, reader is referred to as a girl/daughter in some moments, hobie and reader are both young adults, gender dysphoria, toxic parents, abuse, transphobia, cursing, reader is referred by she/her by his parents, happy ending

✮ SUMMARY A stranger comes to your town and helps you realize who you are

✮ A/N  If you know me, you probably know my opinion on Christianity and religion in general, but I won't lie, I kinda like the religious themes. Especially when it's about being taken out of it and realizing that the world has so much to offer once you leave it. I guess it's my type of thing since I have been raised as a catholic little ‘girl’ and now I hate religion with pure passion after having it shown down my throat for years when I was younger. One more thing, if you're not comfortable, please do not read this. I am aware there are people who can be triggered by any of the things mentioned in the warnings/tags. If you decide to read this, I hope you're going to enjoy it! <3

In a way inspired by confessions by @eyesxxyou

ao3 masterlist requests

You were such a perfect girl in everyone's eyes. Always so nice and polite, obedient towards your parents, in church every Sunday. You were so feminine, so lovely. Always wore those pretty dresses and skirts of yours, along with the necklace with virgin Mary on your pretty neck. And your gorgeous long hair. You were a perfection to everyone around you.

But you didn't feel perfect in the slightest.

You felt so wrong for some reason you couldn't quite name. Your body felt like a cage you couldn't get out of and you didn't know why. All you knew was that you wanted to cut your hair, hide your body under some baggy clothing and yell at everyone who called you a girl. But obviously you couldn't do that, no matter how much you wanted to. You didn't want people to look at you weirdly, to call you a freak. 

So you decided to stay quiet, knowing that nothing was going to change because you were too scared to do it on your own. Scared of judgment and scared of being abandoned. 

All you did was pray that your sinful fantasies would simply go away. But instead of them going away, something else happened. Like the prayers from the depth of your heart have been heard and finally answered.

You saw him after the Sunday mass, as you were standing next to your mother while she was talking with someone else. He was nothing like you've ever seen before. Those piercing glistening in the sunlight just like the spikes on his vest. The distressed pants with patches and chains. And those heavy boots. He was the definition of perfection, definitely not to those around you, but for you without a doubt.

You have caught eye contact with that beautiful stranger. His stunning brown eyes stared into yours as he smirked at you. He probably thought you were just a pretty girl, you assumed. After all, why would he think differently?

“Do not look at him.” Your mother scolded you, grabbing you by your shoulder and turning you to face her. You could see the disgust on her face. You’ve never seen her with that kind of grimace on her face. “I do not want to see you near him. I can already tell he's no good.”

She didn't say it, but you could already tell she saw him as the embodiment of everything that was sinful. And the last thing she wanted was her precious daughter to stray from God's path.

You glanced at the punk for the last time before your mother said that you were going home. He still watched you. He wasn't sure what it was about you that made him want to get to know you. But something inside him told him that you needed him.

Since then you saw him around the town, but you didn't dare to come close to him. You felt a rush of excitement in your stomach every time you saw him, saw that smirk of his. You didn't have anyone who excited you the way he did. But he indeed did excite you, but you couldn't even talk to him, being scared your parents might yell at you.

Everything changed when you were peacefully reading the bible on the bench next to the church. It was so warm and sunny, so you picked a spot under a tree. Your hair was made into a long braid that was getting more loose without you noticing. 

You then heard someone sit next to you. You looked up from the bible to see him. That beautiful punk, smirking at you shamelessly. He looked even better up close. 

“Hello, luv. I'm Hobie.” His voice was lower than you thought it would be. But it sounded so good, so smooth you could almost melt. His eyes looked from your face to the bible you held your hand, then back to your face. You started wondering what was on his mind. “What's your name, hmm?”

You bashfully told him your name. You weren't sure how to act. Was he expecting you to pretend to be this perfect girl everyone perceived you as? Or maybe he was finally someone that could let you be yourself? Either way, you were scared to find out.

He chuckled at your bashful reaction. Your cheeks got pink so quickly. You were just so adorable. And so… innocent. But you had a feeling he could see right through you. See that all of this was just a facade and under all of it, there was a real you, trying to get to the surface. Trying to be free.

“Have you ever listened to punk rock?” Hobie asked out of nowhere. You blinked. You? Listening to loud, unapologetic music? You could never do that. At least not without worrying about being judged.

Finally you shook your head and his smirk widened. “Darlin’, we have to change that immediately.” He saw you shake your head even more. 

You heard about punk rock. The unapologetic and loud music for brutal men who have abandoned God's ways and all the rules. At least that's what you have been told by your mother. “They are good for nothing but corrupting the minds of pretty girls like you. And I cannot let that happen.” She told you and you wondered if Hobie was that type of punk. The type to ruin you and corrupt you.

“I-I can't. I am not allowed to listen to that kind of music.” You looked down at the bible in your hands, you couldn't look Hobie in the eyes. You expected him to think you were weird for not being allowed to listen to what you wanted. But all you wanted was to avoid conflict.

Hobie's face went from confusion to smirk again. “Oh please. I can see that there's a little rebel hidden behind those pretty innocent eyes.” So he indeed could right through you.

You nervously played with your hair, wanting to both agree and refuse. And in a quick moment, your beautiful braid was untied. “Oh no.” You watched your hairband fall onto the grass. Hobie noticed it too. He moved and grabbed it, quickly cleaning it off from all the dirt. “Allow me.” He spoke so softly. You weren't sure if you should allow him to touch you in any way, but he just wanted to help you tie your hair, right? 

You decided not to overthink it, sitting with your back facing him, so he could tie your hair. You didn't expect it, but he was so gentle with your hair. No harsh hair pulling. His fingers parted your hand so nicely before he began to braid it. You almost melted.

And soon, you had your pretty braid again. Not as perfect as you could have done it, but it was still really nice. “Thank you so much, Hobie.” You said quietly before excusing yourself and saying you had to go. His eyes softened, he only nodded, asking if he could talk to you again. “I hate to say it, but I can't be seen with you.” 

Hobie sighed, his fingertip tapped at his lip ring, he seemed lost in thoughts. “And if we meet in secret?” He looked down at you, you were so short compared to him. “You can come over to my place, no one will know you were with me and I could show you some of my world.” He spoke so proudly when he mentioned introducing you to his world. And even though you technically shouldn't be meeting him, you were more than curious. So you agreed at last.

Obviously, someone saw you with Hobie. Your parents weren't proud of you for talking to him. You had no other choice than to lie, just like you did when it came to who you really felt about yourself. 

Yes, I like this dress. 

Yes, I like those shoes.

Yes, my hair is so pretty when it's so long.

Yes, I am a girl.

You had to lie, even though you wish you didn't have to. But you hoped that at the end of the day, when you were praying before going to sleep, God would forgive you for lying to everyone around you. He would understand, right?

So, as always, you lied, telling your parents that Hobie asked for some help because he was a newcomer and didn't know the town very well. Your parents weren't happy you talked to him, but knew, or at least believed, you were too good and polite to refuse to help him. They didn't think twice about it, allowing you to go to your room. They didn't mention Hobie braiding your hair, so you just assumed they didn't know about it, so you decided not to mention it either. It was better to keep your mouth shut.

You were careful when the day of visiting Hobie came. You told your parents that you went to study the bible at your friend's house. They didn't suspect a thing. You made sure no one could see you as you made your way to Hobie's apartment. And soon enough, you were in front of the door of his apartment.

You knocked lightly, heard the sound of locks being unlocked and then the door finally opened. You saw Hobie and he looked at you with that same softness like the last time. But this time he rubbed one eye with a cotton pad. You had a look of confusion on your face when you saw that.

“Come in, luv.” He moved so you could come inside, but instead of looking around, you watched him.

“Are you… wiping off your makeup?” The question sounded so stupid in your mind. Men weren't wearing makeup… right?

Hobie chuckled softly before going to the bathroom to wipe the makeup off more precisely in front of the mirror. You saw a few small eyeshadow palettes with bright eyeshadow in them, along with eyeliner and even two lipsticks. Even you didn't own that much makeup, you barely had any makeup since your parents didn't want you to paint your face like a whore.

“Yeah. I have been to a small party outside the town, so I wanted to look me best.” Hobie explained, before throwing a dirty pad into the bin. He then turned to you, it was obvious that you never saw a man wearing makeup before. You've never seen someone like him before. He allowed himself to check you out, you had a long skirt and a cute top that matched the skirt so well. “I am guessing you never wore the kind of makeup I usually go for?”

His hand grabbed one of the eyeshadow palettes and gave it to you, so you could see the inside better. You didn't think much and opened it. You hand one makeup palette and it was mostly light browns, one a little more glittery eyeshadow and two light pinks. But Hobie’s? It was so colorful. Red, blue, green and yellow. All of them so bright and pigmented.

He smiled when he saw your reaction, he felt excitement in his stomach. You looked stunned. “Why don't I finally show you that punk rock?” He left the bathroom and you followed him. His apartment was a little messy. Posters on every wall, some chokers and other jewelry scattered in some places and some clothes laying around. But his room was even better. It was so… him. You could see the room scream Hobie. Even more posters, a guitar. It might have been a little messy, but it had so much character.

Hobie moved to the old cd player and in the matter of seconds, the loud music played. Black Flag on full volume. At first you weren't sure what to think, but soon, you started loving it. You stopped caring about anything when the music played, banging your head to the rhythm. At first a little shyly, but then you were more confident about it, not caring if you were going to mess up your hair. You looked so happy, you felt so happy. It has been since you felt like that.

Even since Hobie came here, he finally saw your smile, the real and sincere smile on that face of yours. But he saw it falter when Can't Decide by the Black Flag started playing.

Sun's coming up and I can't decide

To spill my emotions or keep them inside

Go for a drive, go to the store

I'm looking for something that can't be bought there

I always wear a smile

Because anything but a smile would make me have to explain

And they wouldn't understand anyway

And they wouldn't understand anyway

I conceal my feelings so I won't have to explain

What I can't explain anyway

It hit so close to home, you almost started sobbing. Hobie saw it immediately and turned the music off. He sat next to you, one arm around you while he rubbed your arm with the other to comfort you. He barely knew you, but he was so concerned about your well being already. “What happened, dove?” He asked so quietly, almost as if he was scared he might make you start crying just by asking.

But you weren't ready to admit what has been going inside your head for months. And he could see that so well. A few tears went down your cheeks so you asked for a tissue. You smudged your makeup a bit, but luckily Hobie was able to fix it with the only brown palette he owned, the one had forgotten about since he never used it.

You gathered your things and apologized. “Don't apologize, luv. Just know you can come and talk about what's going on in that pretty head of yours.” You only nodded before leaving. 

Your parents weren't home by the time you came back, they were probably in the neighbor's house, talking and eating how they did once in a while. Probably praising you how good and obedient you were, and how they were happy to have a daughter like you.

And after that situation at Hobie's place, it became harder to pretend. It became hard not to cry when you were called a perfect daughter, pretty girl and beautiful woman. You couldn't wait any longer, you had to talk with someone about it. And the only person who would not judge you was Hobie. 

It has been a while since you talked to him. But you came back, trembling, looking like you were about to start crying at any given moment. Hobie didn't think twice, he just let you in, sat down on the floor while he seated you on his bed. His calloused hands found yours and he caressed them gently in order to comfort you.

And finally, after all this time, you opened up about what has been on your mind for all those months. You explained how you felt trapped in your own body, how you hated being seen as a girl and how much it hurt when you were called and seen as one. How much you just wanted to be yourself.

Hobie's eyes softened, his hand touched your delicate cheek as his thumb stroked it. You didn't flinch away from his touch, instead you leaned into his hand, enjoying the way he touched you. “Darlin’, I think you might be trans.”

“I might be what?” Your nose was already stuffed from all that crying, making your voice sound funny. Hobie sighed before his lips curled into the soften of smiled. 

“Trans, hun.” You still looked confused, but he wasn't going to blame you. You've been living in a place where you were too scared to be yourself, you couldn't name your feelings even though you have been feeling them for months. It was obvious these people weren't talking about things like that, at least not in the way that would make you want to explore those feelings.

“It's uh, it's when your body doesn't match how you feel on the inside. Like you, you have been born as a woman, but you don't feel like one, don't you?” You shook your head, of course you didn't feel like a woman. Thinking about yourself as a woman didn't feel right. 

Hobie got an idea. “Why don't you go to the bathroom and take all of that off? I'll bring ya some clothes and then you'll tell me how you feel.” He helped you with making your way to the bathroom and closed the door after you. You took off the dress, standing in nothing more than your underwear. It felt a bit less suffocating to not be wearing that stupid dress.

Soon, you heard Hobie knock on the door. “I have some stuff I think might look good on you.” You covered yourself with the towel that was near you, not wanting for Hobie to see your body. But he didn't even peek in, instead he held the clothes for you, letting you grab them before he quickly closed the door behind him.

You looked down at the clothes. Some distressed jeans with patches and studded belt, white shirt with some graffiti, which you assumed was decorated by Hobie himself and even some hand warmers to match the outfit.

You had put on the outfit and left the bathroom, only to see Hobie waiting for you. His eyes sparkled when he saw you. And he could see it in your face that you felt better. He looked so excited for you.

But you still had that long braid. “Let me…” Hobie murmured before you felt him touch your hair again. You weren't sure what he did exactly, but when you stepped in front of the mirror, your hair looked so short. It wasn't perfect, but you loved how your hair looked, way more than it looked in a braid, ponytail or any other hairstyle you were used to. You looked like a boy, and you were so happy.

At that very moment, you knew you couldn't go back to how your life was before. You couldn't go back to wearing dresses, praying to the God that probably never listened to you and did not care about you. You could no longer pretend that you were the perfect girl you were seen as until now.

Hobie's hands grabbed you by your shoulder. “Do you want me to call by a different name?” He asked, glancing at your reflection in the mirror as he rubbed your shoulders. You thought about it for a moment, before looking up at him and speaking up. “Do you think [Name] would suit me?”

Hobie chuckled and nodded. “Definitely, luv. Definitely.” He couldn't help himself and softly kissed your cheek. You were surprised by the sudden affection, but you enjoyed it.

“I want you to cut my hair. I want it short..” You said so suddenly, your voice was a little shaky, but you couldn't wait anymore. You have wanted to cut it for a while and you didn't want anyone else other than Hobie to do it. He was surprised by you. He didn't expect you to want to do it now.

“Are you su–” 

“Yes, I am sure.” You cut him off, you didn't want to be mean, but you couldn't wait any longer. “Please… I don't want to go back to what was before. I don't want to pretend to be someone who I am not.” You begged, you sounded so desperate. He couldn't say no to you when you sounded like that.

“Okay.” He said, giving your shoulders a squeeze before he took you to the bathroom. He brought a small stool and seated you on it. He grabbed a scissors, untied your hair, looking at it for the last time before he started cutting it. You squeezed your eyes shut, your stomach swirling with anxiety, as you listened to the sound of the scissors cutting your hair.

Snip! Snip! Snip!

You felt your hair, your hair that you got so many compliments on, tickling your arms and neck before it fell down on the bathroom floor. “Done.” Hobie said, his voice was flat. It made you worry. Did you look bad? Did he mess up your hair? Was it a mistake?

He brushed the cut hair off of you, before you stood up and looked in the mirror. It was not perfect, but it still made you feel good. You started sobbing immediately. “Dove? Are you alright?” Hobie asked, worried and a little panicked.

“I've never felt better.” You sobbed out and he sighed, relieved that you liked it. He hugged you tightly, being so glad to see you happy with who you were.

But it couldn't go on forever. You came home pretty late, still wearing the clothes Hobie gave you earlier. And in the hoodie he gave so you wouldn't be cold while coming back home. You knew confrontation wouldn't be something you were able to avoid . And you knew it wouldn't be a light confrontation either.

Your parents were sitting in the living room. As soon as you closed the front door behind you, you heard your father call you by the name you no longer wished to be called by. You took a deep breath, pulling a hood over your head before you entered the living room. Your parents eyes were immediately on you, your mother gasped loudly.

“What the fuck is that!?” Your father yelled, he stood up and grabbed you by the hood and yanked it off your head. He intended to grab you by your hair, but there was nothing to grab. Your lovely long hair was long gone and there was nothing they could do about it. In a way, that made you proud.

“What have you done to yourself!?” Your mother shouted with tears in her eyes. You've never seen her crying and you didn't expect her to get so emotional. She always seemed so cold. “Where's your hair? Your dress?” She's never been so panicked. “What will we say to the others once they see that your hair is gone? What will they think of us? What will they think of you?”

There was this need to apologize, turn the time back and never let yourself explore who you really were. But you weren't going to let this need win. You have been obedient for way too long. You were pretending for way too long and now? You were tired of it.

“I don't fucking care what are they going to think of me!” You shouted back. Both of your parents were startled by the fact that you just cursed. They never heard you curse, nor did they hear you sound so confident. “I have been pretending to be someone who I wasn't me for way too long. I am not going to let you decide about how I am anymore!” 

Slap!

Your father slapped you so hard you fell to the floor. Your cheek was all red already. You and your mother were both shocked. Your father was about to take his belt off and start beating you, but your mother stopped him. “I am sure there's something we can do instead of beating her up. People will notice and they might think we were the one to cut her hair off. We can buy a wig until her hair grows back.”

“I am not growing it back and I am not putting the dresses back on.” You hissed. Maybe you shouldn't have done that, but you ripped off the virgin Mary necklace off your neck and threw it.

Your parents were more than shocked at your action. “She must have been corrupted by that punk!” Your mother cried out. “What are we going to–” Your father lost his temper. Instead of beating you up like he initially planned, he grabbed you and threw you out the door. “I no longer have a daughter!” It was the last thing you heard before he closed the door.

Soon, your father started throwing your things out the window. All those gorgeous dresses and skirts flying out the window. Before you were terrified to even slightly rip them and now? You didn't care that they got dirty, they stopped mattering to you. You only waited for your father to throw your phone. You wanted to catch it, but it fell onto the concrete, the phone screen broke, but luckily for you, you still were able to use it. You grabbed some more important things that your father had thrown and then made your way to Hobie's apartment.

He was concerned, but both of you knew it was better that way. If you stayed, nothing would change and everything would go worse. More praying, more femininity, more pretending. But you weren't going to stay with your parents, luckily Hobie said you could stay with him.

You were laying with Hobie in his bed. You were so lost in your thoughts and he could see it clearly. Hobie laid on his side to face you, the tips of his fingers brushed against your jaw to get your attention. You turned to look at him. “You okay?” You put your hands on your face and sighed.

“I'm fine. It’s just… I've wanted to be myself for a while and I…” You paused for a moment, not looking into Hobie's eyes. In a way, it all felt unreal. Usually, you would now be in your bed, reading the bible or praying. And now, you were laying with a man you didn't know very well, but he gave you everything you could have asked for. Acceptance, help and hope. 

Your eyes finally met his again. “I didn't expect that it would actually happen. I thought I was going to be everyone's perfect girl until I die, but you came into my life and changed everything. Thank you so much for that.” You smiled at him, you were so grateful he came into your life. He smiled back at you and leaned to kiss your cheek.

“You're very welcome, luv.” 

You both left the town as quickly as you could since that happened. Now, it has been 6 years since the day you met him. Everything has been truly perfect since then. Your transition was going well and you recently had your top surgery.

And Hobie? He was with you the whole time. During the first appointment at the doctor, he helped you take your first testosterone shot and he held your hand both before and after the surgery.

Life couldn't be more perfect and you never felt more perfect.

taglist: @sk3llly

[returnofeternity]

any headcanons for nat with a tmasc reader? :]

she likes to steal your clothes all the time (⁠^⁠^⁠) you barely have any clothes left in your dresser cause they're all shoved in hers or tucked somewhere in that pile of clothes on the bedroom floor. she chooses to wear your shirt when waking up the morning after, sometimes even your boxers. she wears your sweaters when it's cold. she uses your ripped up shirts when you help her bleach her hair again 😒

you're jealous of her voice ;-; or maybe that's just me...but she reassures you so much when you get voice dysphoria :( she gets sad when you go mute sometimes because of how bad it gets. she's kissing your cheek, rubbing your back, and knows just the right words to cheer you up. helps you voice train if you want to, or just helps you get more comfortable with your voice. always mentions how sexy she thinks it is. begs you to keep talking but if you're genuinely uncomfortable, she stops and apologizes... likes kissing your adams apple too :) if you don't have one, she likes kissing your throat and hearing/feeling you hum.

calls you a pussy for almost passing out at your monthly blood work appointments (if you hate them just as much as me) after you come out and tell her how nervous you were, but was right there in the waiting room, rubbing your arm and putting her hand on your bouncing leg to try and calm your nerves. never makes fun of you (at least not too much..) if you want her to go in with you because you feel calm and safe with her there.

nat giving you cool haircuts 😁 she has such good style that you trust her to give you a haircut. makes sure to tell you how handsome you are and kisses you until you believe it. you love when she has her hands in your hair/on your face guiding you where to look so she can cut, and she likes touching you in general ! :)

scrawny lil nat with buff or even chubby tmasc reader.... she's got some muscle, but barely. she loves the size diff tbh. loves how beefy you are and loves that tummy. she loves post-shot times where either she or you inject the T into your stomach and then loves to rest her head on your bellayyy. she loves how she can squeeze your thighs and arms and belly and cheeks and everything. also loves being carried.

singer!reader whose singing voice changes drastically on T and nat who fucking loves it. you were able to do high notes but now you can't really do them without your voice cracking... goddd she lives for your voice. starts geeking and giggling to herself when she catches you singing. requests her favorite songs always....... asks you to sing her to sleep or sing to calm her down when she's having bad days :(

nat who does ur makeup :) making your face more masculine with tutorials she found online, getting distracted by how handsome you are, and messing it up with her kisses... or if you like wearing makeup, she likes sitting in your lap and doing it. nat who always forgets to put blush on your cheeks because you're constantly red while she's holding your face so gently anyway 😭

nat who starts arguments with anyone who looks at your trans pins weirdly. if they look at you weirdly, let alone say anything, may god not have mercy on their soul... she will get into fights for you. she doesn't take that shit lightly at all. idkk. just thinking about talks with her about staying stealthy after she almost got arrested one day for assaulting someone (deserved) who was being weird to you. telling her you don't feel safe even when she confronts them and protects you :( asking if she could just leave it and focus on you. but also jokingly bumping her shoulder and saying, "i don't care what you do after, though. if they end up dead on the news, i don't know anything." and she smiles

nat buying you trans books/films. ESPECIALLY films. :D buying you gender affirming things all the time, her heart bursting at how happy you are when she gifts them to youuu