#(( he is a trans man and this takes place before his transition )) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beatrixstonehill2 · 3 months

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Soooo this rich photographer flew me out to his waterfront penthouse overlooking the city..... You know, he did what photographers do and filmed me, took pics, got me nice and drunk. He showed me his place, mind you he's in a fancy suit and I'm in this bikini, my cock is basically falling out of it and I'm rock hard the whole time I'm there. He shows me this gorgeous portfolio of other trans girls he's worked with, mostly videos on his computer, and oh my god..... I started fondling my cock as he kept showing me some of the prettiest girls I've ever seen, huge breasts, curvy asses, perfect smile, juicy cocks.... But every video ended with a shirtless man. I didn't get it and he told me not to worry, so I kept playing with my cock, sipping my wine as he showed me more.....

The videos always ended the same. Some handsome guy flexing his muscles, looking really hot tbh, most of them had beards or well-groomed facial hair, none were shaven. They all exuded the kind of masculinity I find super hot, def the kind of guys I love my plump ass to be fucked by. The photographer finally turned to me and told me the men were all the very same people as the sexy girls he showed me. He had a really big kink for convincing trans girls to detrans. I was floored, but kept jerking my cock..... He saw this and smiled. He told me he'd happily pay me 100K to detransition. I jerked super fast and nutted, drooling like a good little whore, eyes rolling back......

"100K? You want to see me become a boy that badly???" I panted, jerking my flaccid cock as it drooled more cum, soon getting erect again.....

"Just look at you, already a machine. Imagine what that cock could do on testosterone. I'd love to see you give up becoming a girl for good. Embrace being a guy, which is what you really are, princess.

I bit my lip, my cock responding so well to his words, nice and full again. "Please..... I like being a girl but I mean.... You really really wanna see me detrans, I can tell!"

"I do. I want to see you get muscular, pumped full of so much T and steroids nobody would ever know you were living as such a pretty girl, or at least a decent imitation, not that you pass, darling. You're hot but that cock is a dead give away, and you still look like a boy, but you already knew that, didn't you?" He stroked my chin.

I nodded softly. "I don't pass at all, do I?"

"Not in the slightest, you poor misguided fakegirl. I'm surprised anyone even thinks to gender you correctly. It definitely doesn't help that you're so proud of your cock and flaunt it all over social media, walking around in dresses with a full erection. You can just see people roll their eyes forcing themselves to call you a girl to be nice. But like I said, your face is still very masculine, totally a dead give away. Are you sure you aren't already growing facial hair? I swear I see a shadow."

I was blushing so hard, fully erect and jerking super hard again. "I mean, estrogen only helps so much, I started transitioning at fourteen! But by then..... and sometimes I forget to take my hormones and, ummmmm...... soooo, this is how deep my voice actually is." I used my real voice, sounding pretty much like a guy.

"Wow, I mean you still sounded like a boy pretending to be a girl before but I had no idea you basically already went through male puberty..... that explains why your cock is so huge. You you're pretty much not even a trans girl, you're a femboy with implants?"

I nodded, cumming again, shooting rope after rope. "Mmmmm, maybe? Sorry I don't pass very well..... I hope you still find me sexy...."

"Oh, all the sexier, in fact I'm going to take that fat ass of yours for a nice ride in a moment..... just after I give you your first official T-shot, so let's celebrate you no longer pretending to be a girl. From now on you'll be a good boy and masculinize yourself as much as possible, OK?"

"Yes..... sir..... anything else before you have your way with me?"

"I want you to post a video of yourself to your Instagram, talking in your real voice, that you're detransitioning and getting your DD implants yanked out next week."

"OK..... whatever you like. ❤️ I need to give up playing pretend..... thank you for helping me!"

"It's my pleasure, helping boys like you is my greatest passion."

Needless to say..... I won't be looking back, and I have a few more fakegirl friends I think I'll send his way....

#detrans kink #mtf detrans kink #mtftm kink #misgender kink

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buterccup · 1 year

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Could you perhaps write trans!male reader getting some validation from the 141? Platonic or nah, I just need the validation because the transition is so far away from me it hurts :(((((((

I live for your writing and it helps with the gender affirmation

Of course! I understand how hard it can be with validation and dysphoria so I hope this helps you and thank you so much mate^-^

I may have added some things that happened to me too- I hope you don't mind!

He will always be accepted

Summary: You were having a hard time with your body and kept it to yourself for a while leaving your team unaware until they finally catch on and give you all the validation you deserve and assure you, even without having the operation yet that you are a man. And they will always see you as one and be there to support you.

Warnings: A little bit angsty, dysphoria, trans!Male reader, he/him pronouns, fluff, comfort at the end, short

Character(s): Task force 141 x Trans! Reader

FEM ALIGNED DNI

It was a normal day back at base, well as normal as it can be for the task force. Price was looking over some paperwork, and Ghost and Soap talking about something while Gaz was talking to you. Everyone seemed to be doing well. Apart from you.

The way you have been feeling has been going on for a while already but never told your boys about it. Not finding the right time to tell them. But at this point, they could all tell something was up with you. You were just silently nodding or letting out hums most of the time and when someone commented about your body, good or bad, you would just strain a smile and nod to whatever they said, maybe say an awkward 'Yeah..' or 'oh' here and there but not as much as you normally would.

Gaz would just give you a soft smile before looking back at the other guys, wondering if he should bring up why you were so quiet to be met with Price looking at him with a stern look that said 'Do it you numpty'

"So..." Gaz then started, the awkward dragging of the word making you focus on him, a soft and comforting look on his face as he leaned closer to you, "We started to notice that you weren't...acting yourself. You do know you can tell us anything."

That's when the room went quiet for a while, the shuffling of Price's papers and the moving of Ghost and Soap being the only sounds that could be heard. They were ready to listen to your every worry and insecurity.

And if you were going to be painfully honest it made you tear up. Of course, they always helped you whenever they could especially when it was because of dysphoria but it always made you feel so happy when they did listen to you.

"Well...it's just knowing how far the transition is away from right now is just making me feel..." You started as Price placed the paperwork down to listen to you properly. "It just made me feel like I wasn't enough like I wasn't doing enough. What I'm trying to say it that I feel hopeless..."

"Aw...mate, I can't imagine how hard it is for you right now." Gaz says as he places a hand on yours and rubbed it gently.

"Why don't you come over here real quick." Soap then said, beckoning you with his hand to come over to the couch next to him, Ghost and Price with Gaz. Which you didn't hesitate to do. You trusted him. You trusted all of them.

"I know things may be hard for you right now but remember, operation or no operation, you will always be a man to us. It will never stop us from calling you what you want to be called or how you want to be seen." Soap said, his voice overflowing with comfort and confidence in what he was saying as he placed his hands on your shoulders as Gaz sat down near by on a chair.

"If you take it this way," Ghost then starts making your glossy eyes look over to him, "If you saw Price for example, with a... bun-"

"A man bun??"

"Shut up, I'm making a point- As I was saying, if Price had a man bun, you would never call him she or her, not unless he told you specifically would you?" he then continued, not waiting for you to respond since he knew you. "Exactly, of course having the surgery will help you a lot but whatever body you have at the moment will never stop us from calling you what you want us to. And it will never stop you from who you want to be."

"Plus, we all know how strong you are kiddo, we know you can stay strong until then, and if not we can always have talks like this." Price's voice then said in a fatherly tone as he gave you a smile. "Don't forget how proud we are at how far you've gotten as well [name]." Gaz's voice then pops up, even if you weren't looking at him you could see the warm smile he had on his face.

All of their words felt as if they were giving you a massive bear hug but for your heart and you could help but cry. Even a little bit.

"Thanks...Thank you so much."

"Anytime [Name]."

Requests: Open

#trans positivity #trans male reader #transgender #ghost mw2 #mw2 141 #price mw2 #gaz mw2 #soap mw2 #mw2 fanfic #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #gaz x reader #ghost x male reader #price x male reader #soap x male reader #gaz x male reader #mw2 x male reader #x male reader

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reidfucker · 2 months

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two left feet

dr. spencer reid knows how to dance. keyword, knows how to — not that he's any good at actually, physically performing it.

or dr. spencer reid asks you to waltz with him.

an itty bitty reid drabble as i try to familiarize myself with tumblr. no beta or second thoughts at all !!! i typed all of this out experimentally. (update: edited it a tad :–D)

oh, and spencer is a trans man. it's not explicitly stated or dwelt upon, but i hope you know.

once reid gets into something, he gets into it. lately, he's been reading up on dancing: in particular, the waltz.

in his silently agreed on corner of the couch, with his feet in your lap as you sat beside him. you see him reading the waltz book, whatever that entailed.

it wasn't uncommon for spencer to be interested by things he completely hadn't dabbled in the past. he usually accumulated facts on a multitude of topics, storing each trinket of knowledge for later use. though, he hardly ever applied those skills after getting familiar with them.

this time, he closes the book, thinking to himself. you can't help but giggle to yourself and wonder, what is so thought-provoking about the waltz? but reid finds something to ponder on even in the most mundane things, so there's no need to question.

"hm." reid hums, getting your attention.

"spence?" you can visibly see his train of thought derail.

"oh– um– i was just wondering if..." he considers his words, "i was just going to ask if you'd like to dance with me."

you grin, "aw, of course. who am i to decline you?"

"um... i'm no good yet. but hey, what's learning without trying?" he gives a shy smile, getting on his feet pushing up his reading glasses, instead of taking them off. you told him he looked cute in glasses, and he'd look cute nonetheless, but you noticed he wears them more often now.

"what songs go well with the dance you have in mind?" you say, browsing through your cd collection.

"would it be cliché if i said 'cant help falling in love' by elvis presley?" spencer stands slightly behind you, sort of waiting for you.

"yeah... very cliché. but it's okay, i'll play it anyway." you can't help but grin at how anxious he is about nearly everything.

"well, it's because my mother loves that song. well, used to, now she can hardly remember things."

you turn to him once the cd is in place, "you don't need to explain yourself to me, spencer. i like the song." you reassure him, "now... shall we dance?" you hold a hand out.

spencer gladly takes your hand, gladly taking charge. you've never danced before, and it's evident that spencer hasn't either, but strangely, you feel like the ceramic couples spinning together inside a music box.

he closes his eyes, following the rhythm, visualizing the images from the textbook.

what a mind, you think. it would be nice to live inside his brain: to know every thought before it's fully processed, to see what images flash through his mind, to watch the connections between lines from books and quotes an unsub dropped.

on the other hand, you don't know what you're doing. spencer's eyes flutter open and closed every once in a while and he oh-so-softly laughs whenever he commits a mistake. you consider kissing him, but you don't want to interrupt this brilliant mind at work.

once he's comfortable enough with the pace, he leans his forehead on your shoulder, transitioning into slow dancing. you wrap your arms around his waist, and you just melt together.

rocking you back and forth just in time with the rhythm, he whispers in your ear, "you know, waltzing was considered... scandalous back in the day. couples danced in what they called 'closed position,' they were practically, uh, pelvis to pelvis."

you chuckle, giving him a nod. he feels you nod and takes it as a sign he's good to continue.

"yeah, up until the waltzes of strauss, it was deemed inappropriate. i get that, 'the blue danube' is such a beautiful song, it's hard to pass up the opportunity to... y'know..."

reid rambles on, whispering to you all throughout, as if he were professing his love for you. and in his own little way, you knew he was.

he takes a few (many) awkwardly timed steps, and even you can admit your bodies don't flow together seamlessly. but really, it isn't half-bad.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x male reader #trans spencer reid #criminal minds #dancing #x reader #gn reader

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aliorsboxostuff · 11 months

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Idk if u will do this request but! Miguel’s time is like futuristic set right? ( trans people would just transition and be more accepted in this timeline sí right? 😭) so Miguel He went to college at a high prestige science university and so did reader for he is too an smart as him with his own creations in robotics and chemistry. Miguel had tried to get alone room accommodation but failed and got partnered up with transftm!reader and they became roommates. Reader fell in love with Miguel but he didn’t notice cuz he was too focused on his work and whatever. Years go by aka spider verse but suddenly miguel needs help from his old college roommate. Angst fluff maybe…smut??? Sorry English isn’t my first language 😭😭

Hey anon! I appreciate the idea and i love how much you fleshed it out! Dont worry, i completely understand your vision, and i get it english is hard for me too lol i hope i got your ideas right tho, sorry this turned into angst more than what i was aiming lmao enjoy all!

History

Tags: Miguel O’hara x FTM!Reader, Villain!Reader, Lyla, Past Relationship, Angst, Falling Out, Fighting, Arguments, Dirty Thoughts, Meet-Cute, Pining, Secret Crushes, Miguel is as dense as ever, poor reader on this one HAHA

They had a history. Of living together, spending time with each other, but despite all of that it all went downhill. Who knew your ex-roommate turns out to be Doc Oct

(Takes place before Post Credit Scene in into the Spiderverse)

—

"Miguel, I hate to tell you this but we can't-"

"There has to be another way, you designed this Lyla!"

"Hey! Don't blame the AI, blame the maker! I only followed what you said!"

Lyla huffs and glitches to another part of the console. Miguel is currently hunched over a table in the corner of his lair, the only light illuminating his project is the light rod over his workbench and the monitors around him.

The girl busies herself with schematics, working out equations and trying to find where they went wrong.

Miguel's latest work on the multiverse brace is to eliminate the glitches that it makes whenever someone uses it. It could potentially lead to wounds from the cells traveling to a different world, and even the healing factor won't fix it. Worst-case scenario, it would lead to a fatal wound, possibly death, and Miguel can't risk that if he's gonna start interdimensional travel.

His eyes scan over the chip connected to his computer, adding and removing codings that might've gone wrong. He's wearing the headband Lyla gifted him, or mailed to him when it was his birthday months ago, to be exact.

"I swear the shell is all good, Miguel. It should all contain the molecules needed for the portal bracelet,"

"Can you please stop calling it that?"

"What? 'Portal'?"

"Yes. It's not a portal, we already have that," Miguel rolls his eyes, gluing them back to the screen.

"Then what are we calling it?" Lyla pouts, adjusting her heart glasses.

"Transdimensional Pathfinding Wristlet."

Lyla pauses her work, and turns to Miguel, her brows raised, the blinks once, twice. "Wh- seriously?"

"Y'know what, I'm not even gonna try," He shakes her head before glitching to another monitor. "Leave it to the crazy scientist to name his things,"

Miguel ignores what his AI had said, instead focusing back on the chip. If this succeeds, it’ll be the first dimensional trip the prototype could make, and he’d prefer not to be a piece of burnt toast once he comes out of it. He coded another line, before he ran a diagnostic. The screen glares red, the annoyingly big letters of ‘ERROR’ pops up.

Miguel blinks, before he feels his claws coming out, promptly making him stand and throw his chair across the room. It shatters, the metal pieces clinking to the concrete floor. He heaves, sharp fangs bared, barely causing anger at his fingertips.

Lyla fixes him with a look. “That your fifth chair Miguel,”

The man takes a steady breath, wiping his hand across his face, working at his jaw. He tilts his head sharply and something pops. He faintly hears Lyla clicking her tongue.

"There's a guy I know,"

—

"What do you mean there isn't any- I booked a single room last week,"

"I'm sorry but there must've been a mishap in the system. I'm going to have to put you with an available roommate,"

"I don't want-" Miguel sighs, tapping his foot insistently. "Look, is there any way I can register for another single room?"

"You can wait a couple of weeks for a vacant room, but you'd need to consult with the head of the faculty." She nodded to him, a regretful look behind those blonde bangs. Miguel huffs, hands on his hips, thinking out a decision.

"Fine," He groans. "Who's still available for a roommate then?"

The girl's brows raise before she quickly types something into the computer, reading out what looks like a list with numbers and names. "Oh!" She smiles. "Room 304, on the third floor is still awaiting a roommate,"

"Great, thank you," Miguel grumbles, already picking up his boxes where he left them on the floor.

"If you'd like-" The girl calls for him again. "I can talk to the faculty member, see if I can help you with the room situation,"

"Sure, I'd appreciate it," Miguel's back is already turned to her as he makes his way to the building's elevator. With his gym bag slung over his shoulder, and the boxes of his unfinished work, traversing the hallway takes a bit of an effort. Students were not mingling around because most of them were already in their rooms, with the time turning just after 5 PM.

Finally, he reaches the elevator doors. Miguel shuffles the boxes into one hand, struggling to press the button before he is beaten to it by another hand reaching for the ascend button too.

"Here man, let me help you," The person says, already picking up the two boxes that cover Miguel's vision even before he said anything.

"Hey don't-" He begins, before he finally gets a good look at the person that dared to touch his scraps. The man in front of him, standing just inches taller than him, hair with an unintelligible style, captivating eyes and the faintest smirk on his lips.

Miguel's brain stutters a bit. "I'm- nevermind, thanks,"

"Of course dude," And Miguel's interest plummets. "What floor?"

"Third please," He nods, pressing the button once he and Miguel get in. The door closes and leaves the two in silence, only the faint whirr of the elevator's machine.

"So, late to dorm assignments?"

"Nah, they messed up my request,"

"Shit, really?" He turns to Miguel, his brows furrowed.

"Yeah, now I'm stuck with a damn roomie,"

"Oh yeah? What room?"

"304, apparently," Miguel huffs, looking down into the box he's carrying, the tape on it peeling slightly. The guy halts, now his brows are raised.

Miguel's turn to look confused, before the guy chuckles lightly. "Funny you say that 'cuz,"

"I'm room 304," He smirks, readjusting the boxes.

There's a pause, before he feels the red of embarrassment gathers on his cheeks. "You're-"

"That damn roomie? Yeah,"

"Fuck, sorry I didn't-"

"No no, it's fine! Really," The guy laughs, shaking his head while Miguel tries to formulate a coherent sentence. "I don't mind man, I get wanting your own space though,"

"Hey, I hope I'll be a good roomie," He bumps Miguel's shoulder lightly, his smile not fading. Miguel finds himself mimicking it slightly. After that, he introduced himself to Miguel, his major and such.

The elevator opens just after that, the two make their way down the hallway. He asks about Miguel's major too, just as they reach the door.

"I seriously didn't think I'd get a roomie," He chuckles, turning the key with a million other key chains. It jingles, before he pushes the door open and into the room. "I'll go check with the front desk-"

"Oh!" He turns after putting down the two boxes he was carrying. "Just got the text, said they'll give you the key tomorrow,"

"Great," Miguel rolls his eyes, putting down his box on the vacant desk and his duffle on the chair. He turns, inspecting the room that he's been sent to stay in. One side is already cluttered with his roommate's stuff, plants and books and papers strewn about. He tilts his head when he spots a flag on his desk.

"You're trans?" Miguel asks, turning to him where he was still standing with his phone out. He hums and lifts his head, meeting Miguel's browns.

"Oh that old thing? Yeah," He scratches the back of his neck. "I know, I get it. No one really cares nowadays, the worlds moved on, whatever,"

He glances at the little flag, pink and white and blue adding color to the messy desk. He smiles. "It's a reminder, I guess,"

Miguel stares at the flag, just once, before he nods and shrugs, turning to open his boxes. "Sure, that's cool,"

He can practically feel the sunshine radiating from his roommate behind him. He crosses his arms, turning again to face him, and he's right because his roommate has a really bright smile. "I hope we'll be good friends, Miguel,"

—

"Miguel there's so many people in Nueva York how am I supposed to-'' Lyla stops, before she grins. "Nevermind, found him!"

Miguel finishes his spider shot, cracking his neck again as he sets the syringe down. He turns towards Lyla, the AI already projecting the location. "Looks like our guy lives in… the slums? I thought you said he was a prodigy,"

"Yeah well not everyone gets a decent job even if they are a genius," Miguel huffs, running his hand through his hair as he looks at the mirror.

"Who's you said the guy was again?" Lyla begins to scroll through the data.

Miguel sighs. "Old roommate, back in college,"

"Ooh, interesting," She giggles.

"Lyla don't-"

"I'm not looking through his history! Just a peek, though,"

Miguel lets out another sigh, walking towards the large opened window. "Uh, hey Miguel, are you sure about this?"

"Why what's wrong?"

Lyla displays her screen as it glitches in front of Miguel. According to her research, the old roomie has been caught by the police stealing items from hardware stores and electronic stores, a handful of accounts of disruption of peace according to the other tenants in his old apartment. And he's currently deemed missing.

"Where did you say his location was?" Miguel reads through the file, his brows knitted.

"Just here, some abandoned warehouse in the slums,"

—

“Miguel, man, you’ve got to eat,” A tray for warm food was suddenly placed between Miguel's paperwork. He huffs, pushing the plate away and to the edge of his already small table. He hears a sigh, before the plate is moved out of his peripherals, and Miguel is back into his work.

“Dude, you only ate like, one energy bar after going to the gym,”

“I’m fine,”

Another exasperated sigh, before his roommate goes back to whatever robotics he was working on. Miguel has been perfecting his latest assignment the whole week, going back and forth on his computer, writing down research papers and consulting with his professors. Meanwhile, the man that he shares his room with is tinkering with a recent robotic piece he’s been pouring his heart into.

It’s correct that they share most of their schedule together. Miguel would wake up before dawn, and so would he. They’d run a couple of laps around campus before hitting the gym just before it gets too crowded. He’d spot for Miguel while Miguel would comment on his form if it needs any improvement. Sometimes they’d share breakfast together, before they head for their different classes, though ever since Miguel has been engrossed in his recent paperwork, their time spent together has been blessed. It'd be a lie to say Miguel doesn't miss their shared time, but he supposes seeing him back in their room after a long day is enough. Though, it doesn't seem enough for his friend.

Unbeknownst to Miguel, his roommates have been supporting a devastating crush on him. Stolen glances, longing eyes whenever Miguel's back is turned towards him. Times when he’d stare a bit too long whenever Miguel was doing his bench presses, times when he’d stand close just to feel the comforting warmth beside him. He’d fuss over Miguel, bringing food or drinks, bringing things Miguel might've forgotten with his busy schedule. Sometimes, when Miguel worked too late and too much, he’d fall asleep on his desk, at which he’d bring his blanket to cover Miguel’s back. In the morning, he rolls his eyes and says something about Miguel getting a bad back, which Miguel would promptly ignore.

It’s currently Friday night. The man that's sitting on the opposite side of the room has seemingly lost interest in his robotics and decided to peer out of their bedroom window. Suddenly, Miguel is bombarded by a loud shout coming from outside of their room, and snaps quickly to the source. He sees his roommate has opened the bedroom window and is looking out into the campus’ courtyard.

“Yeah, I'll join you! Be right down!” He hollers, before he shuts and locks the window. Miguel turns, blinking away the slight dizziness he got.

“Who was that?”

“A friend, they're having a party at one of the frat houses, you wanna join?” He grins, pulling on his leather jacket and pocketing his belongings. Miguel has never been to a party and he's not about to start going, especially when he has a deadline to push. He shakes his head, always swiveling back his chair.

“No thanks,”

He hears his friend scoff. “Come on Miguel! You’ve been working on that thing for ages now, you deserve a break, and the deadline isn't for another month!”

“I’m not interested,” Miguel bites back, barely glancing at his pleas.

“Just this once, I promise it’ll be fun! I’ll be there and I can take care of-”

“I said I'm not interested.” He spits out, already hunching into the part he’s soldiering. He doesn't hear anything, not an answer or another push for him to join. The air has changed, something heavy hangs between them. The tension is palpable, but despite it all Miguel only hears the shuffling of his friend's boots.

“Sure, whatever,” His roommate fixes a stare at the back of Miguel's head, before he unlocks their door. “Y’know, one of these days that work of yours is going to destroy you if you're not careful,”

And with that, he leaves Miguel alone for the night.

—

“What the fuck!” Miguel jumps and manages to hold on to the side of the building. “Lyla searches for his weakness points!”

“Hah! You think this has a weakness, Miguel?!” The man shouts, a wide grin on his lips. “I’ve perfected these arms, they are practically indestructible!”

“SO this is how you greet your old roommate?”

“I’d prefer for us to meet for coffee, but after how you treated me, I think this…” He brings a menacing robotic arm towards him, as if to inspect it. “Is way better,”

The arm suddenly lunges towards Miguel which he narrowly avoids. He jumps and entwines two of the appendages together as he lands behind the man, at which he growls and breaks free of Miguel’s red webs. “I never treated you badly!”

“No, not really huh,” He smirks. “But you never noticed the shit I did for you anyways!”

He spears those sharp arms towards Miguel which he does a couple of doges before jumping down the rooftop they were currently fighting on.

“All of those morning coffees, late dinners, all for nothing! None! All because you were so fucking focused-” He sharply turns, grabbing Miguel’s wrist and stopping him from dropping a punch. He suddenly pulls Miguel towards him, burning anger behind those eyes. “On combining a damn spider's DNA with yourself!”

He throws the Spiderman across the street, breaking several walls until the momentum finally stops. Miguel groans, cracking his neck when Lyla suddenly pops up. “Boss, the control panel for those arms is on his back, if you could pull it apart from him, it’ll stop him from controlling it,”

“On it.” Miguel swiftly stands, running through the many rooms he passed before leaping into the air, catching the man off guard. He throws a punch that lands on his face, throwing him off balance and into the concrete street below. He grows, and fixes his jaw, before launching back to full force against Miguel.

“It was all fine until you went out with that fucking brunette!” He shouts, throwing debris towards Miguel which he weaves and dodges. “Did I ever mean anything to you?!”

He’s got Miguel pinned to the ground, and pushes all of the arms to stab at him, but instead misses and gets buried in the ground instead when Miguel swiftly pulls away with his web. He struggles to get the appendages out of the strong concrete, suddenly finding them stuck, an opportunity for Miguel to rip the control panel off. He swings above the man, landing directly behind him where he quickly digs his nails into the seams of the panel.

“I’m sorry,” Miguel manages before he pulls. An ear-splitting scream, before deathly silence. Miguel could only hear his heavy breath, before sparks of green ran through the man's body, and it jolted him. He shouts, before falling into the pavement. Miguel takes a beat to examine the control panel, before throwing it somewhere on the ground. He spots the bareback of his once roommate, a horrid sight of root-like marks growing around the man's back. Miguel furrows his brows, before he hears the faint police sirens, no doubt coming over to clean up the commotion.

Just as Miguel was about to make his leave, he heard the man cough, a horrid groan behind him. Miguel glances slightly, as he hears him begin to speak.

“I was right… Your work did destroy you.”

Requests are opened! Remember to reblog!

#miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x m!reader #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #atsv miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fic #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara x ftm!reader #miguel o'hara x trans!reader

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theemmtropy · 8 months

Text

Beard Care, a Gale x Transmasc!Tav fanfiction

Rating: T, for implied sexual feelings. Nothing explicit!

Tags: Domestic, wholesome, transmasc/trans man Tav, second person POV, supportive Gale, facial hair shaving, shaving with straight razors

Summary: Gale shows you how to care for your new beard, reassuring you that he loves you for who you are. [This takes place after you return home with him.]

Yall know this meme:

In my head, this is that, but mlm and trans.

Read here, or on AO3. Hope you enjoy!

Adventuring has had its costs, but in the end, it has been worth it. Thanks to the generosity and gratitude of those you’ve helped, you’ve finally saved up enough money to begin transitioning with the magic potions available in Waterdeep. And the potions have been working wonders.

You wake up in the late morning, the bed cold beside you. Gale keeps odd hours, sometimes staying up late into the night- or waking up incredibly early- to work on a spell or ritual that has occurred to him. You don’t mind, as you often disappear into your own study to work on your own projects throughout the day. You two are alike in that regard: you’re secure enough in your relationship to know that even when you’re not spending time together, you’ll still be excited to share your work at the end of the day.

Getting up, you head to the bathroom to wash up and get dressed. To your delight, your scruff is starting to grow into a fuller beard, and you realize that you can ask Gale for advice on keeping it neat.

After getting dressed, you make your way downstairs to the kitchen to find your partner attempting to make pancakes- attempting being the key word.

“I don’t understand, what’s the difference between regular flour and bread flour?” You hear him mutter under his breath.

“Protein content, babe,” you answer, causing him to jump with surprise.

“Good morning love, didn’t hear you come in,” Gale says with a smile. “I’m afraid you’re out of flour…” He gestures to his apron and the floor, both of which are covered with all-purpose flour. An overturned mixing bowl rests on the floor as well, with little cat pawprints indented into the soft white dust.

“I take it Tara got a little antsy?” You ask, getting a broom and dustpan and sweeping up the majority of the mess.

“She thought she saw a mouse,” he responds, chuckling. “I intended to surprise you with breakfast in bed, but I suppose it’s too late for that now.”

You shrug. “It’s okay, I can just make us some Baldurian toast. But first,” you grab his hands and put them on either side of your face. “Feel.”

Gale looks confused at first, then a huge smile breaks across his face. “Tav! Your beard is coming in! Actually from the feel of it, it’s here! Oh how wonderful.”

He gives a kiss to both of your cheeks, and you feel your heart swell. Gale has always been supportive of your transition, had even helped you find a hospital that would sell you the potions needed. When you had first met, you’d been scared that he would find you weird, abnormal. But he’d never treated you any differently than he treated the rest of the party, had always given you respect- and once you’d started your relationship, more than respect. There is no doubt in your heart: Gale loves you for who you are.

“I have a favor to ask, before I get to breakfast,” you say. “Would you help me shave? I want it to look nice, groomed- like yours.”

“Well, I’m quite flattered- though not surprised- that my careful trimming has inspired you in your journey,” he responds, standing up straight and showing off his facial hair.

You laugh and roll your eyes, as he removes his dirty apron and sets it on the dining table. He then leads you back to the bathroom. There, he produces a straight-edge razor and shaving cream. “Now, do you want to do it yourself whilst I instruct you, or do you want me to shave you so you can see what it’s supposed to look like?”

You think about his hands on your face- his gentle, steady, lithe, practiced fingers. A thrill runs through you. “I want you to do it.”

He gives a mock bow. “Your wish is my command.”

You sit on the edge of the tub while Gale fetches a chair from another room. Then, once he’s sat opposite you, he lathers up the shaving cream and applies it to one side of your face. “I’m going to do one side at a time, so I can keep a grip on your face,” he explains, then brings the razor to your skin and gently- but firmly- begins his process.

“Now I will say,” he continues as he works, “I didn’t always know what I wanted to do with my beard. I tried a goatee, that was atrocious. I tried just a mustache, but it made me look too pretentious.”

You try not to laugh, worried about getting cut if you move too much. His free hand holds your head at an angle, his fingertips firm against your jaw and the base of your skull. He is so close, his eyes peering at every detail of your skin.

“I eventually found a balance and shape that followed the angle of my cheekbones, while not disrupting the balance of my facial features.” With this, he completes the one side, wipes any residue off, and then applies more cream to the other side.

You turn your head obediently, which prompts him to murmur, “Yes, good boy.” Your body heats up upon hearing this, but Gale doesn’t even seem to realize that he said it; his brow is furrowed in concentration, eyes never leaving your face.

After finishing the other side and wiping it off, he traces a finger under your chin, down your neck. “Shaving this part is optional, I often just leave it, but I can get it for you, if you want?”

In answer, you lift your chin, craning your neck back to stretch the skin out for him. Gently, he applies more cream, and then places a hand at the bottom of your neck, grasping ever so slightly to keep you still. The cold of the razor sends a shiver down your spine as you feel him draw the blade up your neck, stopping only when getting to the underside of your jaw. Then he repeats the process until your neck is clear of hair.

Wherever Gale’s hands touch, you feel your skin spark with life, with need. If he knows the effect he’s having on your body, he doesn’t indicate it. “There,” he says, pulling away once he’s finished. “Let me get you a damp cloth to rinse your face off, then you can have a proper look in the mirror.”

Your skin turns cold as he removes his hands, and you sigh, wishing the moment could have lasted longer. But when he returns with the washcloth, you quickly wipe your face, eager to see the results.

Standing up and looking in the mirror, you see yourself staring back, as always, but this time you feel more… you. Your eyes well up with tears of joy as you gaze at yourself, until you notice Gale staring at your reflection as well.

“You look quite dashing,” he says warmly. “Though, I’ve always thought so, of course. How else would you have been able to seduce me?” He adds playfully.

You crack a grin at him. “Why, I would have seduced you with all your favorite foods, naturally. Speaking of, I believe I promised you Baldurian toast?”

“Before we get to that,” he says, voice growing lower. “I can think of another intimate activity we should do first.”

You match his stare; there is a hunger in it, but not a hunger for food. “I believe I can think of one, as well.”

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 gale fanfiction #bg3 gale x reader #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #trans #queer #queer fanfiction #my stuff

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gatheringbones · 1 year

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[“I never felt like I was born in the wrong body,” he says, referring to the dominant medical discourse, though he hated looking in the mirror and says he “felt extreme discomfort” with the body he had. Lucas has been binding his chest for two years using a compression sports bra, always a little too tight, usually followed by a T-shirt and a man’s shirt. He does so for safety, because he sometimes goes to rural Putnam County: “very small, really Southern places,” doing HIV education. “If they knew I was queer, let alone trans, I would probably be killed, so I kind of have to keep all of that very much on the ‘down low’ when I’m doing work out in the community.” But to his co-workers he is “very, very out.” For Lucas, undergoing top surgery is an assertion of what some feminists call bodily autonomy. Pro-choice activists argue that the government has no right to tell women what to do with their body; transgender activists say that they have the right to change their body if they please.

Lucas is at the surgeon’s office with Oliver, a former boyfriend who is also a bearded trans man; and Rachel, a bisexual Latina, his “soul mate and sister.” Lucas says he has “always known” he wanted top surgery,” even before he began injecting testosterone. A few friends in Gainesville who had undergone surgery with Dr. Garramone became mentors to younger trans people in town like Lucas, directing them to friendly therapists and doctors, and helping them get letters for testosterone. Having crowdfunded the $7,000 he needed for top surgery, Lucas is giving away $500 to charity.

And then there is Nadia, a twenty-eight-year-old from St. Louis who works as an employment coach at a nonprofit agency. The odd girl out, she is having her chest masculinized, but not as part of a gender transition. As a how-to book suggests, top surgery is “not just for those transitioning from female to male” but also for others on the gender spectrum, including “gender non-conforming, gender fluid, bi-gender, butch, and so on.” Nadia feels some camaraderie with trans men undergoing top surgery and considers herself “near the trans community, but not in it.” She has short brown hair, bushy eyebrows, and olive skin, and she is wearing large horn-rimmed glasses, a men’s shirt, and hip-hugging straight-leg jeans that look baggy on her slender frame.

When Nadia was twenty-one, her breasts suddenly grew to about a 32C. “They just went boom,” she says, and she told me they felt outsized for her small frame. At certain points in her monthly cycle, when they bloomed even more, she couldn’t even bring herself to get dressed. She felt more comfortable in an androgynous style, wore men’s clothing, and hated the way her buxom bosom made her clothes fit. And she loathes having them touched. She identifies as female and has no interest in taking testosterone, but she sees her breasts as an impediment, a part of her body that does not reflect how she sees herself. Nadia’s queer circle includes trans friends with whom she shares a deep sense of alienation from standard-issue notions of femaleness. She is here with her girlfriend, Flora, an art student whom she met on OkCupid four years ago; the two were drawn together by their mutual interest in art, politics, and graphic novels.

Nadia upends conventional notions of what women should look like and how they should be. She’ll remain female, but she shares with the others here today the belief that their breasts don’t fit and that by changing their bodies they can become more comfortable in their skin and more successful in their lives.”]

arlene stein, from unbound: transgender men and the remaking of identity, 2018

#arlene stein #currently reading #gender stuff #lesbian literature

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sapphos-catpanions · 2 years

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if you’re like me, you’ve thought “if they’re putting trans women in women’s prisons, where are they putting the trans men?”

in women’s prisons, duh. the following are quotes from sagal sadiq, a trans-identified female inmate at the central california women’s facility, about the trans-identified male transfers that she is forced to live with. california, remember, does not require that a male inmate take any legal or medical transition steps before being granted transfer to a women’s prison.

“Under SB 132, these ‘trans-predators’ as I call them… they are just here to try and have sex with the women.”

“Even if it is true that they are at risk of violence in a men’s prison, this is just trading one victim set for another.”

“I submitted a [formal complaint] to housing staff. The officer asked me why I was documenting it and I said this behavior was inappropriate and was I believed that it was going to escalate.”

“Sometime after this, this predator I reported decided to retaliate against me. We were in the kitchen and he ‘shoulder-checked’ me, which means when he walked by me he hit me with his shoulder super hard … in an effort to bully me and dissuade me from carrying on with the [grievance] I had filed,”

“We were thoroughly frisked and put in a cage. I felt I was being kidnapped. They claimed that it was for our protection, but if they really wanted to protect us they would address the predatory behavior of this man, not lock up the whistleblowers.”

“When women complain [or] when they feel threatened … they are just moved. From bed to bed, room to room, and eventually yard to yard. And if you complain a little bit too long … you are put ‘in jail’ [solitary confinement].”

“For me, as an African refugee and civil war survivor – this triggers all my PTSD. You know what happens to women in wars and situations of strife… I don’t want to see that mirrored here. I came to America to be safe. To see this happening, even on a minor level, to my sisters here is very triggering to me.”

“Nobody thought too far into the process of how these ‘trans women’ are being vetted. You can’t just self-declare when you look like a 400-pound linebacker. These people clearly are not [transgender], they’re here for other reasons,” Sadiq says, “But because SB-132 is the law, everyone has a hands-off approach.”

“SB-132 is to protect trans rights, but trans men don’t have these rights. The patriarchy is protecting itself. You’re a biological woman? Stay in your place. You have no right to demand anything. But if you’re a biological man, you can be whatever you want. It’s encouraged. If you want to [be moved] here to prey on these females — who cares?”

“All humans have inherent rights imbued within us, and the idea that a new law was created not to protect, but to elevate a class of individuals above an entire gender, serves only to marginalize women.”

her sworn statement:

https://static1.squarespace.com/static/5f232ea74d8342386a7ebc52/t/6297b41a683f4e20e5e927e2/1654109210863/Sagal+Sadiq+Declaration.pdf

https://reduxx.info/women-being-punished-for-complaining-about-male-transfers-inmate-in-california-womens-prison/

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familyabolisher · 3 months

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I’d love to hear more about the terrible thing at the edge of the lake! It’s really well written, and idk if i was just projecting or if you’re so skilled that you made it clear that Anthony lived his childhood as a girl without ever really saying it. Genuinely, i don’t know how you did that.

lake story commentary under the read more >:)

yeah i mean, as you say, the crux of this story is that our narrator is a trans man. i threw in a handful of clues that gestured towards the fact:

the name being the very first thing we learn about him, and the fact that he takes pride in it (& feels the need to share that pride with his "audience"). it's a chosen name; he is a pretty pretentious guy, and he wants us to see the artistry behind it. the story closes with him telling us that he "[has] been Anthony Misha Cohen ever since" he entered the lake; with what the lake represents in the story, this is him telling us that he decided to transition.

that the dead fox "made no advances" on the dead rabbit, and "thus disproved that claim to all of Nature’s predispositions being wholly ineluctable"; this is, of course, a gesture towards biological determinism. anthony points it out to us because that's what he's trying to focalise in telling this story. a lot of the piece is about agency versus inevitability, what we do and what is done to us. in the end, he chooses to act rather than be acted upon, which is how he is able to articulate his transness.

that one of the body parts thrown up by the lake is a severed breast; ha ha, top surgery, etc. looking at this more broadly, the narrative focus turning to these individual, isolated body parts ("Ought the lake to have thrown up a whole human body for my taking? It never did.") was intended to speak to a sense of alienation induced by dysphoria.

to speak a little more broadly, the story is in part about finding yourself coming into conflict with narratives of "coherence," which is to say, normativity, and (as i glossed in the second bullet point) about agency vs. subjectivity. i like to read the lake in the passage from streetcar that i referenced as representative of what lies outside the limits of heteronormativity; if you don't know, this specific passage has blanche describe the time she accidentally caused the suicide of her gay husband by revealing to him that she saw & was disgusted by his sexual relationship with another man. when he shoots himself, he becomes a 'terrible thing at the edge of the lake,' and i'm caught by his being, specifically, a 'thing'; for the rest of the play, he & his death come to metonymically stand for the essential failure of heterosexuality & sexual normativity that leads blanche to eventual ruin. he ceases to be a person and becomes a piece of metonymy; a signifier of the possibility of queerness, and the social paradigms that such a possibility threatens to rupture. this slots in well with my interest in spatial demarcation in fiction as a process of marking the boundaries of hegemony; all of streetcar takes place in one apartment, and who can and cannot live comfortably within the borders of the apartment aligns entirely with who can and cannot live comfortably within the borders of heteronormativity. compare apartment to lake; if the 'thing at the edge of the lake' is allan grey, and is therefore the possibility of queerness, then the lake itself is the repository, in a sense, for everything that sexual normativity & hegemony fundamentally cannot absorb.

& that's what anthony's lake is! ofc we're talking about transness in my story, but i'm playing around with the same essential idea of something that exists through its abjection & its absence, made sense of through its presumed impossibility. & it sets him at odds with his family, none of whom can see it. long before he can put words to what he wants, he has to live with the physical presence of the lake, & how that presence moulds his interfacing with the world even as he is the only person able to "see" it. as i said, i'm playing with the idea of spatial zones as standing in for discursive ones; the lake represents the marginalised, peripheralised forms of gender + sexuality by which sexual normativity + hegemony has to make sense of itself, and anthony lives with a heightened awareness of their existence before he has the language or the frameworks to properly recognise them. similarly, even people who cannot "see" the lake (for whom sexual normativity is naturalised such that the lake's "function" can become, in effect, background noise) can read this accidental departure from the norm into his affect.

& this idea of course brings us to the eyeball which provokes what is discursively figured as transition. i wrote this as an inversion of blanche's "I saw! You disgust me!" - when blanche "sees," queerness is no longer a distant & peripheral construction shoring up her understanding of heterosexuality without her ever having to confront it, but is instead in her immediate vicinity, and her response is to set off the chain of events that restore allan to "the edge of the lake" and to metonymic signifier. when anthony is "seen," by the lake itself, the world made possible by the lake is -- again -- no longer distant & peripheral, but immediate, and confrontational ("nothing but the water to distinguish it from me") (this is also why i referenced clare quilty, and vladimir nabokov/vivian darkbloom -- lolita doppelgangers strike a similar chord to this moment!). unlike blanche, his response to seeing and being seen is to finally admit to himself that the world represented by the "lake" is the world to which he wishes to belong. it's important that this is a conscious and deliberate choice -- throughout the story, it's always possible for anthony to remain, essentially, an unhappy girl, and to grow up into an unhappy woman. he tells us as much -- "But there were practical reasons for which I between the ages of eleven and twenty-one felt that I could not merely become that which I anticipated so fervently. If the lake were to take me—as I was certain it intended to do—I for so long committed resolutely to the idea that it had to be a happy happenstance, a fortuitous accident by which I could willingly and joyously forfeit all agency in the matter. I lasted so long in this state." anthony knows, at some level, what he is, but he spends a long time trying to make sense of it without having to act. when he is finally "seen," he acts, and this to me is a useful way of thinking about transness; not as deterministic inevitability, but as an expression of gendered agency.

i don't want to break it down sentence-by-sentence because i feel like that takes a lot of the fun out of reading it, but i hope this commentary was helpful -- i love this piece, i was dying to talk about it.

#ask

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risingscorchingsuns · 2 months

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What was hikaru's transition experience in the corps? How did they take his coming out (if that happened)? How easy was it for him to get care (you said shinobu did his top surgery)?

This is a great question! Unfortunately Hikaru being trans is one of the most historically inaccurate parts of his story, if not medically, then definitely socially. I use a lot more modern methods and language because I wanted Hikaru to be trans similarly to how I am. It’s my canon-accurate Achilles Heel 😭

Don’t get me wrong, trans people definitely existed back in the Taisho period!! We’ve always been here, but back then we were recorded a little differently, generally regarded as “women in men’s clothing”, et cetera. I will never deny their existence, and Hikaru being modern with his gender expression isn’t meant as erasure or denial to them, but as an expression of myself via a fictional character. Their existence is real, and valid, and they are no less trans than Hikaru- at the end of the day, he’s my silly little self insert, and I wanted to write his experiences based off of mine. If the focus of Hikaru’s story was his gender journey, I would put more emphasis on the time period and the difficulties surrounding being trans in the Taisho period, but the themes surrounding Blazing Heart’s Rhapsody are acceptance and solace found within family, and love in spite of war. This isn’t a story about trans people- Hikaru just happens to be trans ☺️

Hikaru realized he was a boy very very young, (probably around 6 or 7) and his father, Hiroki, encouraged him to live in whatever fashion made him feel most comfortable. Because Hikaru grew up in the woods with only his father and little brothers, he was never really socialized as a woman or a man- he was just Hikaru, the oldest Eritora child. He likely hit puberty while living on his own in the Sumitomo Forest, but didn’t experience dysphoria until he was found by the Kochos when he was 16. When he was brought into the Corps, Hikaru experienced gender norms full-force for the first time. It wasn’t really that they didn’t support Hikaru being trans, it was more that he didn’t fit. He was Different, and that made him Othered. For the first time, Hikaru was struggling with where he belonged, and that was when he started to really learn the societal importance placed on gender roles. Additionally, Hikaru is neurodivergent, so these norms never made much sense to him logically in the first place. So while he never really had to come out, he did have to fit in, which was difficult for him to navigate. He talked to Shinobu, who in all her medical expertise, gave him the best advice she could. She was the one who helped him hormonally transition, (if she can inject herself with 700x the lethal dose of wisteria without fucking poisoning herself, she can probably make Hikaru’s testosterone. She’s iconic like that I think.) and ultimately it was Shinobu who helped Hikaru figure out where he stood in terms of gender identity. Hikaru is a self-made man in every sense of the phrase, but he couldn’t have done it without the help of those around him.

As for top surgery, I don’t really have a canon-friendly justification for that. Shinobu’s not a plastic surgeon, she’s probably done minor surgeries before, but never anything to the level of gender-affirming surgery. I feel like she’d DIY that shit tbh. She could pull it off. I’d let her do my top surgery. Shinobu says trans rights 🗣️

Thank you for this ask!!! I rarely get to do longform Hikaru analysis :D

#hikaru eritora #leon rambles #demon slayer oc #demon slayer #kny #kny oc #leon askbox

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touristclass · 4 months

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Hi again! Want to relate something about dating in case it is of any interest.

Right out of the blue, I was asked out by a straight man (here where I live). Flattered, I went on a few dates with him. Nothing serious, I thought. But it did not take long at all before he was pressuring me into a physical relationship. And pressuring me a lot!

Obviously, I was never a typical guy, when living as a male. So when I was doing the guy thing (long before transition), I would take my time. And was never pushy, preferring to get to know somebody well first. Before things got physical. Turns out that, from what I understand from cis women I know now, that how I was is not typical male behavior at all. So I was a bit blindsided. When the roles were reversed and I was the woman this time.

I'm hearing from my straight cis girlfriends that a lot of straight guys expect sex by the second or third date at the latest. I suppose this is fine if that is what a particular lady wants. And I'd even fantasized about doing that on the first date! But when it happened for real, and when the opportunity was there. I did not want to take it. Yet. Because my intuition was telling me not to.

And I am glad I didn't. Because the more I learned about him, the more I found we were not very compatible. So better to not have made things any more serious, and we could go our separate ways without it being harder (I broke it off with him because of compatibility issues that had nothing to do with sex).

Fantasy is one thing. But reality is something else. So if you find yourself out there. Dating guys. Know what to expect. Establish boundaries. And don't do anything you are not comfortable in doing. Even if you do not understand why, because it could be your intuition warning you. And if you have principles and a certain sense of right and wrong for you. You do not have to compromise that. For anybody.

Last but not least. Flattery is what got me to go out with him in the first place. And it is nice to be treated like a lady. So be careful with that if it is shown toward you. And be safe.

Your trans friend, ~Jen @touristclass

#trans pride #transgender #transsexual #transgender support #lgbtqia #transisbeautiful #gender dysphoria #male to female #cross dressing #mtf trans #female gender identity

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amadeusevenstar · 5 months

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Oh! Please share as much as you want about Trans!Johnny omg!!

okay since you asked so nicely 👉👈

first of all, and i cannot stress this enough, this hc goes hand in hand with trans dutch for me, you cannot have one without the other. like their friendship reminds me so much of how it is to grow up as a young trans guy and finally finding someone that seems to know exactly what ur going through (even if maybe neither of you know why yet) also it’s just nice to think they at least had each other with all the shit they were going through. they met before highschool, with dutch having transferred schools enough times due to being expelled that no one remembers him pre-transition (except johnny ofc)

Johnny came out super young. he was one of those people who always knew, and openly expressed those feelings of being a boy to his mother, who had no idea how to deal with it at first, but came around pretty quickly. She got him more boyish clothes (not much just what they could afford) and she cut his hair herself. this all happened before she even met Sid, (mainly bc i cannot imagine a scenario in which sid would be okay with having a trans step son) and to this day he’s still none the wiser.

the first person johnny came out to (besides his mom and dutch ofc) was ali. they’d become really close friends, and knowing what an amazingly kind and accepting person she was, he felt safe telling her almost everything. they started dating shortly after.

then of course there’s his relationship with kreese and how being in cobra kai affected him. (cannot decide if it makes more sense for kreese to know about him being trans or not, but ultimately i don’t think it really matters.) Johnny’s never really had a good male figure to look up to until this point and so he soaks up every single thing kreese teaches them. real men know how to fight, how to defend themselves, how to protect those who can’t fight for themselves, that’s what a real man does. and most importantly he takes no shit. no fear, no mercy. dutch agrees.

of course, this is when things start to go downhill with ali, and when they break up johnny tells himself it’s because she just doesn’t get it. she doesn’t understand. she doesn’t have to fight to be who she is, she just gets granted that by right of existing. it’s different for him. he has to earn it.

which is exactly why daniel larusso pisses him off so much. larusso and his stupid infuriating soccer moves, and his quick wit, and his kind and beautiful smile, and charisma with everyone he meets. he’s scrawny and weak and he’s not masculine or macho at all, he doesn’t even try, he doesn’t put in a modicum of effort and yet ali seems to think daniel’s more of a man than johnny ever will be. and it’s not fair. johnny had to work to earn his place, so why doesn’t daniel? johnny had to hurt people, hurt himself, break bones, run to the point of complete exhaustion and then keep running more. he had to practice lowering his vocie, and learn how to stand the right way, to walk the right way, to put away childish things, and puff out his chest act like a real man. all this work with no end in sight, and daniel doesn’t have to do a god damn thing.

it’s not fair.

#(can u tell i’m projecting a lot here lmfao)#i feel like this is pretty similar to a lot of the other takes i’ve seen on it but yeah #cobra kai #karate kid #johnny lawrence #lawrusso #tagging lawrusso bc all my posts are about thag even if it’s not mentioned lol #the karate kid 1984 #tkk #trans johnny #ftm johnny lawrence

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burnedwriter · 1 year

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Ehem... may I request a mini drabble fic.. of ftm trans masc reader x wesker face sitting~ reader is insecure on the down stairs region and wesker wants to make them feel less insecure 😉🫠👀

A/n: sorry for taking so long with replying to your ask,i had to do some research and ask some of my trans friends to help me write this fic(huge props to them),I decided to write the smut scene in kinda gender neutral language since the reader can be at any point of their transition,anyways hope you enjoy!

warnings:smut mixed with comfort,tans masc!reader,face sitting,petnames.

''is there something bothering you my dear?'' wesker said.Nothing could escape this man's gaze.He studied your behaviour and every move you did throught the week seeing that you werent acting like your usual self.It made him think what might be the reason you are acting this way.He thought to himself was this the right time to confront you about it?Seeing you lay on the couch reading your book it was very prominent in your face that something was occuping your thought as Wesker stood at your feet.

''yes..''you finally admitted to him,closing your book and placing it on the table next to you as you sit up leaving some room on the couch for wesker to sit down next to you.

''Did someone harm you,my dear?,i can take care of them,just let me know who it is...''he said with his usual serious tone as he sat down next to you.

''Wesker it's fine,no one is to blame its just....''you tried to reasure him that everythng was fine,but a man like albert he was not buying it.

''Do you love me Albert?every part of me?even if im different?''you said feeling a sense of relief as you finally admitted your deepest insecurity.Giving him a hint of how you felt about yourself.The small silence filling your body with anxiety as you see wesker not responding,expecting a negative respose but instead you heard him say something that was really rare coming from his mouth.

''let me show you how much i love you''he said,it was one of the few times he showed genuine passion breaking his usual cold demeanor and showed his vulnurable side catching you off guard since it was really out of his character.After that you really dont know how things turned out the way they did,everything moved so swiftly that your brain couldnt comprehend what just happened.

Now sitting on Wesker's face ,your legs on either side of his head.Taking his time with you showing you how much not only loved you but apprecieting your beauty,bitting on your inner thigh before moving up leaving a trail of bite marks.His tongue skillfully touching all the right places,building up the pool of heat that started to form in your lower abdomen,ready to snap at any moment as your breathing became slower and more dagged out.

''Albert~,im close~''you moaned loudly your voice quivering as you dag your nails into the couch,his strong arms keeping you in place from moving or losing your balance as Wesker continued to use his skillful tongue pushing you over the edge,your whole body shook,your mind going blank destroying any insecurity you had for your body as you reach the finish like,climaxing all over wesker's mouth.Once you reached your climax Wesker's arm were locked around your thighs in a firmer grip,as he saw that you were about to get off of him.

''Where are you going?I m not done showing you my love yet''

#resident evil x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x you #resident evil x transmasc!reader #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker x you #albert wesker smut #albert wesker x transmasc!reader #wesker x reader #dead by daylight wesker

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transmascrage · 2 years

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When it comes to transmasc representation in old media no one fits better than Oscar François de Jarjayes from "The Rose of Versailles" (1979) (Lady Oscar for my Italian friends). So much so that at some point I thought of having Oscar as my second name.

He's a fictional character set in a story based off of real-life Marie Antoniette as a teenager.

He's raised as a boy because he's the youngest of six, and never actually goes "back" to being a woman, because he dies fighting during the French revolution.

Oscar’s identity is a cause of great conflict in the manga and the anime. His agency is constantly taken into question, everyone around him is convinced he’s being forced to be a man by his father, when he’s constantly rejecting womanhood.

Transgender Identity as Parental Abuse, And Oscar's Agency

It's important to mention that Oscar is almost always referred to as a woman. The people close to him know he’s not cisgender, and always refer to him as a lady. But people who have never met before assume he’s a boy.

He's always told to be more feminine by those around him except, most of the time, by his father. His father's decision to raise him as a boy is actually portrayed as dramatic, with thunder and lightning.

His friend André calls him Oscar while André’s grandma scolds him, telling him to call him Milady Oscar because of his lower rank as a servant.

And even as Oscar tells her he likes it better this way, André’s grandma brushes her hand on a dress, reminiscing that Oscar could be wearing that instead of his boy clothes, and that she hopes one day he'll attend a ball dressed as a beautiful lady.

Later she drunkenly moans: "Oh poor Oscar, there's a conflict inside of [him], [he] doesn't know whether to be a man or a woman!"

Throughout most of the show, actually, people think Oscar acts like a boy because it's his father's wish, when it's Oscar himself deciding to present as a boy.

Oscar's agency is always questioned, just like it is for transmasc people and trans men (as well as the vague entity known as “the children”), supposedly "brainwashed" young girls. Many transphobes actually think trans kids are forced to transition because of their parents.

The recent decision in Texas to investiagte and remove transgender children from their families on the basis of “child abuse” echoes this sentiment, for example.

In the very first episode, André tells him "It's not too late! Become a woman, Oscar!" as he runs away. And even though he hated the prospect of becoming the Captain of the Guards, he chooses that over becoming a woman.

The narrator even says "And so Oscar chose to become a man."

He's running away from his assigned role at birth by doing something he hates. He could have chosen to stay and "become" a woman, like Andrè and his grandma say, but he doesn't want to.

As his first assignment as captain, he’s ordered to dress as Marie Antoniette to take her place during a planned kidnapping, and he reacts by throwing away the dress and walking away angrily. His father actually sees his manhood as a costume he can take off whenever it’s necessary, Oscar sees it as his identity.

And even after Oscar's father decides to marry him off, he still doesn't want to play the role of a woman. But nothing seems to convince people that he's acting of his own accord.

Alternatively, many characters treat him like a silly girl who’s just playing pretend. It’s true that Oscar is young, but his identity in manhood is just as strong as those of the men around him.

Detransition Because of Social Pressure

Oscar doesn't express any wish of wanting to be a woman, except once when he dresses as a woman hoping to make a man fall in love with him, but learns the man is already in love with Marie Antoinette and desists.

Marie Antoinette also feels attracted to him, even though she says she’s disappointed Oscar was born a girl.

Which I think is very relatable for a transmasc person, to feel like we're unlovable as we are. Oscar trying to fit in his "womanly role" (the one time in the entire show) isn't really out of place, it's reminiscent of transmascs and trans men detransitioning because we're not accepted by the people around us.

Andrè, confesses to being in love with him (when he's seen him in nothing but men's clothes his whole life, might I add. He's not attracted to Lady Oscar, he loves Oscar the Captain of the Royal Guards.) but Oscar pushes him away and joins the army instead.

Transgender Identity Seen as Childish

At this point, his father regrets letting Oscar be "too unfeminine" and plans to marry him off.

This, to me, is another aspect of being trans even in a supposedly accepting family. There's an age threshold at which it's not acceptable to be trans anymore, that it's something childish that eventually the teenager will forget and join in their role in society. Then there’s the entitlement that families feel they have over children.

Yet another man, his rival, asks for his hand, but Oscar refuses. Then, as a Commander in the Army, he affirms his leadership on his troop, making yet another man, André’s friend this time, fall in love with him.

Most of these men have seen Oscar appear exclusively as a man. All of them, to my knowledge, are aware that Oscar isn't a cisgender man, but Oscar never presents as a woman, and he still manages to make three men fall in love with him.

Oscar realizes that he's in love with Andrè as well, and switches to fighting against the Monarchy with him, but dies by his side during the Storm of the Bastille.

The Return of Oscar

In a completely non-canonical book that only came out in Italy, Oscar doesn't die and instead becomes the Black Knight (a character that appears in the original manga), fighting against injustice.

It's revealed that he didn't die, instead just lost his memory. Once he regains it, he moves to England and lives a quiet life as Rose.

But that doesn't last, and he goes back to France to become the Black Knight. This is, in my opinion, just another instance of detransition that doesn't last (it's non-canonical as well). After all, Oscar is alone in England, the people that previously supported his masculinity are dead or have disavowed him, like his father.

He also kisses Napoleon. This man can't stop making men fall in love with him.

The story ends with Oscar leaving for America, but all of this is not canonical anyways.

In conclusion, Oscar's identity in manhood is constantly questioned or completely disregarded. Even as he says "My duty as a soldier comes before being a woman" everyone assumes he's simply being edgy.

Oscar is born to be a soldier and dies as a soldier. But being a soldier isn't even something he wanted to be in the first place. He just took on the role to avoid becoming a woman, both in the sense of getting married and starting a family, and in the sense of being seen as a woman.

Really, Oscar uses "soldier" as a short-hand for "man."

#lgbtq #lgbtq community #transmasc #transandrophobia #the rose of versailles #lady oscar

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