#trans stories | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

farmerlesbian · 11 months

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I just heard about this website called TransRural Lives which just went live! Go check it out! You can also find them on Instagram, Facebook, and Youtube.

"A digital storytelling project exploring and celebrating the lives of transgender older adults who live in or have strong ties to rural areas and small towns in the Pacific Northwest."

The stories are audio recordings from the trans elders themselves, and I find it incredible to listen to their stories and literally hear their voices. This is definitely worth checking out and maybe even getting connected and sharing your story. You will also find a variety of resources and archives on the website. Check it out!

If you want to get involved, they're taking volunteers, donations, help to spread the word, and stories from rural trans people. Here's some info from the website on who they are looking to hear stories from:

Who is eligible to participate in the project?

Transgender* adults 50 years of age and older who live in or have strong ties to rural areas and smaller cities/towns in Washington State (outside the Sea-Tac metro). In 2024, we will be expanding the project to include transgender older adults who live in Oregon, Idaho, western Montana, and British Columbia.

* We include and welcome anyone and any identity that falls outside the gender binary, including nonbinary, genderqueer, gender-diverse, gender non-conforming, and Two-Spirit folks.

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Edit to add: I am in no way associated or affiliated with this project. I simply came across it while surfin' the web and thought yall would be into it and wanted to share it with tumblr! If you have thoughts or feedback or want to get involved or just want to talk to the project, I encourage you to reach out to them. Check out the website! I have zero affiliation with it.

#trans #pnw #trans stories #queer #rural queer #rural trans #Trans Rural Lives #washington state #pacific northwest #trans elders #links #LGBT #LGBTQ #LGBTQ+#transgender #transsexual #mod alfalfa #TransRural Lives

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terrible-eel · 9 months

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Hey so I am going to be in an anthology! I'm really excited for this book to come out and it would mean the world to me if you sign up to receive an email letting you know when the release date is! Or even just reblogging and sharing this on other platforms would be helpful! This is essentially a Kickstarter and we need to give this as much traction as possible because it may be able to be published in stores if it gets popular enough!

The editor on this project has been wonderful to work with and extremely supportive of my decision to have a trans main character for my contribution which is called "The Witch". The artist working on my story has also been so wonderful but I'm not sure if I can release their name yet.

Just again, please support this work. It's very powerful and pushing for a lot of good things.

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itgetsbetterproject · 8 months

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🏳️‍⚧️ NEW TRANS FILM ALERT AND IT'S TOOO GOOD! 🏳️‍⚧️

"Within the space of 24 hours, Feña is swept through the extremes of human emotion when people who seemed to disappear when he transitioned are suddenly back in his life."

“ONE OF THE BEST FILMS ABOUT POST-TRANSITION ADJUSTMENT.”

“I HOPE SOMEDAY A TRANS PERSON IS HAVING A CLICHÉ TALK WITH THEIR PARENT AND THINKS, “MY GOD. I FEEL LIKE I’M IN MUTT.”

Here's where it's showing across the U.S.: muttthefilm.com/us-theaters

#itgetsbetter #trans movies #trans film #mutt #mutt film #trans stories #post transition #transition #transitioning #trans youth #queer youth #lgbtq youth

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celticcatgirl2 · 4 months

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Alice Egg moment!!!

In high school when I still identified as a cis guy my boyfriend at the time was a trans man. While he talked about his family being transphobic we never discussed marriage nor did he ever bring up pressure to present feminine in the specific context of a wedding ceremony as even being a hypothetical.

Yet I like REGULARLY imagined a scenario where we where about to get married and his family was trying to pressure him to present femininely and I would step in and say “if you want someone to wear the dress so badly I’ll do it!!!”

I guess as just a way of standing up for him but I also did basically just imagine a scenario that gave me an “excuse” to present femininely at my wedding and thought about it WAY more often than would make sense for the actual circumstances of my and my ex boyfriend’s lives.

#shut up alex #personal #trans #transfemme #transgirl #nonbinary #egg story #egg #trans egg #enby #egg moment #trans story #trans stories #dating stuff #kinda

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bam-stroker · 7 months

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ROYAL ROGUE - Beta Reader's Needed

Hear, ye Hear, ye! I have reached the phase in my romance novel writing process where I am in need of beta readers.

What does that mean?

Do you have a lot of opinions on stories in the fantasy genre? On dragon romance? Or on trans/nonbinary representation in stories? You're an adult? Then you're the kind of person I'm looking for! A beta reader is someone who gives all the input on story/characters/what's missing/what seems confusing - you are the view for the writer to see past the cloud of their creation to find out how readers will feel about their story.

What does this NOT mean?

If you aren't comfortable giving thoughts/feedback and don't read in the genre I'd say hold off for when I reach the final stages of the book to read it instead.

Great, I'm interested - What's the story about?

Valentine was born to be the royal heir to the kingdom of the Sun. Forced to choose between being a prince or princess, they decide to throw it all away to work on becoming a rogue at the local thieves guild instead. Training to one day be adept enough to run away and leave the strict control of their unsympathetic mother for good. Sent on a quick retrieval mission in the nearby mountains, they instead encounter a highly unusual dragon by the name of Asrir. A collector of oddities and very much one himself. The two of them bond over their frustrations with societal expectations and find quick friendship. Over time friendship blooms to love and the two of them face both the challenge of admitting their feelings and escaping the clutches of the queen.

Over arching theme: In a world built by the gods for balance - where do people in the in-between belong?

Features:

Transmasc Nonbinary love interest

75% trans characters / fairies with magic to help people transition

Found family

Dragons

High fantasy

Slow burn friends to lovers

Happy ending

High heat dragon sex scene 18+

Content Warnings: Transphobia (hinted at and 1 scene directly), verbally abusive mother, magical drug use (1 time at a party), body horror with immolation themes, self hatred

Want to read a snippet of an older draft? Here's a taste.

Feel free to comment in the replies here or send me an ask if you're interested so I can give next steps!

Please reblog as well to boost. If not you, someone you know might be a great fit

#royal rogue #dragon romance #monster romance #monster boyfriend #dragon boyfriend #monster fucker #writeblr #beta reader #beta reader request #beta reader wanted #romance author #high fantasy #knightcore #lgbtq+#trans stories

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quark-nova · 1 year

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Do including t4t folks who date outside their gender include nblnb and nblm/nblw? Does it include people in these groups who are in an AMAB+AFAB relationship? IDK if this is tmi, I'm AMAB transneutral enby, my husband is a AFAB trans man. We've been together a decade , he's currently also pregnant: we're in the process of having a child. Whenever we bring up our relationship in t4t spaces, people either treat me like a cis man who doesn't belong in these spaces and as if our relationship is basically c4t MLM, or treat him as as a bi butch woman as opposed to a trans man especially when people found out he was pregnant and wasn't interested in his explicitly queer masculinity and transition making him identical to a cis man.

Plus, neither of us really pass due to how we present ourselves, I at most look like a flamboyant gay man, tall lanky hairy and bearded who plays around with makeup expression but doesn't gravitate towards feminine wear. He's gendered as a butch lesbian almost exclusively as opposed to a man, he doesn't bind which alone gets him misgendered, he wears masc clothing but a variety of factors in which he presents himself and even basic things such as how his voice sounds are enough for him to lose that association with manhood and gets him clocked. Do I need to be transfem and transition to look like a woman for our relationship to be seen as "t4t" enough? I'm not a trans woman or transfem and I'll never be, does that make me a cis invader incroaching on actual t4t people? Does he have to transition specifically in a way to fit cis centric standard of manhood, does he have to desire top and bottom surgery as opposed to "just" hormones in order to be seen as his actual gender in t4t spaces? Are t4t people not allowed to have children nautrally, does that makes us too close to cishets in their eyes for people's comfort?

We have mutual nblnb friends , same AMAB+AFAB, agender + multigender. Both of them present in ways that align with their AGAB, they're not men or women but their relationship in t4t spaces has been dismissed and treated as a "cishet relationship" constantly, with them being actively misgendered even in trans positive spaces. Are they just straight too, silly little cishets who want to hog up t4t resources from? Do t4t relationships only count as queer if they're binary/binary? If both people have the same gender? If people go through full medical transition? If they're both the same AGAB? What makes t4t inherently worthy in the eyes of people within the community, none of us are aware because we've all been actively excluded or dismissed for one reason or another, had our transness intrinsically erased due to not being the "expected" t4t couple.

The way people talk about t4t as this club which queerness is so narrow and if you fall out of what's expected for t4t you're basically straight? There are straight t4t people who are awesome and face their own isolation within queer spaces that I cannot speak on, so I won't. Having different AGABs or not being strictly MLM/WLW just feels like a quick way to get misgendered or to have your queerness and transness taken into question. It sucks. T4T is celebrated but only if you're a certian type of T4T.

Yes, both you and your friends should absolutely be included in T4T discussions! These are an extremely valuable experiences that you're bringing, and dismissing it as "c4t" or "cishet" is just misgendering. NB4NB relationships are not any less queer, and they're not "cishet lite" just for being of different AGABs - once more, it's reducing nonbinary people down to their AGAB, which is sad to see so often in queer/trans spaces.

I haven't been in T4T relationships myself so I can't comment on the isolation that some kinds of T4T relationships face, but it's absolutely true that some types get talked about more than others, creating unfair expectations for people whose relationships don't fit inside this norm. Which is sad, as subverting expectations of gender like you do is as queer as queer can be!

#t4t #trans stories

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newlevant · 5 months

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Thank you so much to everyone who backed and shared the Kickstarter!! Tumblr users really came through. Shoutout to the person who tagged Neil Gaiman, you’re an MVP! Becoming Who We Are is officially a go 🥳

Still a few days left to preorder, and you can get the Kickstarter-exclusive hardcover edition:

#trans stories #queer comics #trans #queer #queer youth #comics anthology #comics Kickstarter #becoming who we are #trans kids #comics #trans comics #kickstarter

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fandom-hoarder · 2 months

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A video essay on queer stories and the ways they're misunderstood by mainstream media and queerphobes.

youtube

#video essay #jessie gender #across the spiderverse #nimona #queer representation #the queer experience #trans stories #Youtube

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brickett6 · 5 months

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before I transitioned (at around age 15ish?) I had a nagging feeling in the back of my head that never really went away, that I was doing something, wrong. Any time I talked to a girl i felt a weird inherent kinship with them I didn't with guys? and always wanted to be around them. Whenever I was with just guys I didn't feel anything special, just kinda, normal. This feeling of wrongness slowly faded as I entered adolescence never really leaving me. I learned what a trans person was and said "not for me", but whenever i did hear a passing mention of transness I would grapple onto it, wanting to hear every detail I could. The kinship i felt towards girls became one i felt towards queer people, which was annoying because I wasn't queer, I felt like I was intruding in a space I didn't belong in but desperately wanted to. At the start of 2020(other than you know) I saw a tweet written by a trans woman who had come out and all of a sudden the wrongness i had suppressed from my early childhood explodes out of me in a brief jealous rage (thankfully i didn't send her any hate comments). After that things slowly snowballed until fall when i suddenly realized I was trans after accepting I was bi. The wrongness that had smoldered in the back of my mind my entire short started to go away after I accepted myself, came out to friends, and finally started hormone replacement therapy.

I have no idea why I wrote this timeline of my transness other than to get it out of my fucking head. I originally wanted to focus on the wrongness but as I wrote I realized it stopped being a forefront emotion basically after the end of grade school. The sort of nawing discomfort you get when you don't come out came kind of slowly weirdly.

#transfem #trans #transition #trans stories #coming out #trans realization

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folxlorepod · 9 months

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Boo! 👻

Folxlore is a finished queer horror audio drama set in Glasgow, Scotland. It's a narrative anthology series of existential horror. We don't bury our gays but we sure do put them through hell 🖤

Folxlore totals 25 episodes. It begins here:

#Folxlore #Podcast #audio drama #queer horror #glasgow #trans stories #tin can audio #queer podcast #horror podcast #this is just to have a new pinned post rlly

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hellyeahheroes · 3 months

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youtube

The Film DISNEY Didn't Want You To See by Aranock

#thought provoking #queer media #lgbtq stories #queer rebellion #trans stories #trans metaphor #Nimona #Youtube

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sweaty-confetti · 9 months

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transmasc rapunzel

there is a lot that they don’t tell you about rapunzel.

firstly, he was a young man. many mistook and continue to mistake him for a young lady.

secondly, he chose his name himself. before that, he had another one, one forgotten and whittled away.

he lived in a tower, hair long and fair, made up in pretty skirts with frilly sleeves. not by his own wishes.

his mother loved him. but she didn’t see him.

his mother looked at him and only saw a princess.

“just you wait,” she would tell him, patting his locks. “one day when you outgrow this silly phase i’ll let you see the world.”

like his hair and his namesake, though, rapunzel grew and grew and grew and the phase continued, like a moon in stasis.

one day, rapunzel’s mother was off traveling.

“i’m going to buy some paints,” she said, and waved him goodbye. “you stay in your tower, young lady.”

he tipped his hair out the window so she could climb down, silently wondering when it would be his turn.

a day or so later, while he was painting his walls and singing to himself, he heard a voice calling from below the tower.

“ ———! let down your hair!”

frowning, he made his way to the window. “who are you?” he called.

the man below him was chiseled, muscular, well-dressed, everything rapunzel was not.

the strange man bowed. “i found my way here by chance, milady, and heard your singing, like a nightingale. i thought it only right to free you.”

rapunzel was a bit flattered, although displeased by the man mistaking him as a girl. “well, thank you, sir. would you like to come up?”

“if i may,” he said, and smiled, teeth pearly-white and sharp.

rapunzel was enchanted by this knightly man the moment he stepped foot in his tower.

he was a picture-perfect prince, chivalrous and kind, or so it seemed - so he said.

he took more care of rapunzel than his mother did, which wasn’t much. he preferred to spend his time boasting of his achievements.

even worse, whenever rapunzel hesitantly tried to clarify that he was a boy, the man would laugh uproariously and tell him he wasn’t - and would never be.

it had only been a few hours when rapunzel burst out of his seat and cried, “leave my tower at once!”

the man looked affronted. “how dare you? what have i done to warrant such disrespect?”

“all you do is talk about yourself! you ignore me, belittle me. i mention here and there that i’m a young man, and you treat me like nothing.”

“i treat you like a princess should be treated,” barked the man. he bared his teeth, still pearly and sharp, like a wild, rabid dog’s teeth.

“no one should be treated like this. no princess, no prince, no one else,” rapunzel declared.

“you are a heinous woman,” the man snarled, grabbing rapunzel’s hair roughly and brandishing his sword at him. he yelped and dodged the sword, staggering towards the window in pain.

“i may be heinous, but i am most of all a man,” he responded, tossing his hair until it flowed out the window, the man dangling from it.

“never come near my tower or me again,” he hissed, grabbed the man’s abandoned sword, and chopped off all of his hair.

he felt a weight leave him as the man crashed to the ground, yelling and muffled by his severed locks.

standing at the window, he felt the breeze fly through his shorn hair. for the first time in years, he felt free.

many days later, he heard another voice call up to his tower.

“hello, hello! is anyone there?” called a high voice.

“what do you want?” he called back.

“there is someone! pray come to the window and talk to me for a bit.”

grudgingly, rapunzel obliged.

the man below him was dressed shoddily, face smeared with dirt. his hair stuck in all directions, his only weapon a small knife.

“pleasant greetings to you!” the man waved. his voice was high pitched, like rapunzel’s. “my name is campanula, and you?”

“rapunzel,” he said, and crossed his arms. “why have you come here?”

“i stumbled across your tower while searching for food. i’m quite hungry,” he sighed. “would you mind offering food to a sorry young man like me?”

despite his wariness, rapunzel had a kind heart, and relented quickly. “if you wish,” he said.

then a thought struck him. “oh, i’m so sorry. i have nothing to pull you up with; all my hair has been shorn.”

to his surprise, campanula simply grabbed a protruding stone from the tower and began to scramble up. he laughed, a bit bemused. “why would i need your hair?”

“my mother always used it to climb up here,” said rapunzel, still in awe. “so did the last man. how could you come up on your own?”

“sometimes, one has to be self-sufficient,” campanula said. “i would never rely on someone else for everything; how unfair to them, and to me!”

“i see,” said rapunzel. he had never thought of it that way. his awkward distaste for his mother and the previous man made more sense now.

he served this visitor some bread and butter, and they struck up a conversation.

it had been days and campanula still hadn’t left, much to rapunzel’s pleasure. he was a nice young man to have around, and he was certainly kinder and more accommodating than his mother.

one day, he asked his companion, “i’ve been meaning to ask you. your voice is so high, like mine - why?”

campanula shrugged. “when i was born, everyone told me i was a girl.”

“i insisted in my heart of hearts that i wasn’t, and most people have accepted it. i am a young man; nevertheless, hints of femininity stay with me.”

rapunzel was astonished and overjoyed. “me too!” he cried. “all my life my mother has told me i am a girl, but i know i am a boy.”

campanula seized his hands in his, smiling. “others like you and me exist! you are a fine young man, rapunzel.”

he felt tears fall from his eyes, but with freedom instead of pain. “thank you, thank you,” he cried, and kissed campanula quickly on each cheek.

flushed and pleased, the other man leaned backwards. “sweet prince,” he said, “shall we leave this tower and find new horizons to explore?”

“oh, that would be heaven,” rapunzel cried, face pink. “if i could be by your side in the world, i would be happy.”

“then, my dear, we shall go!”

holding hands, they climbed slowly down the tower, campanula teaching rapunzel where to place his feet.

rapunzel took a deep, shaky breath, his bare feet touching the wet grass for the first time.

hand in hand, they stepped forward into the sunlight.

#emo moss talks #emo moss writes #spilled ink #writeblr #writers on tumblr #spilled ideas #trans writers #trans writer #trans stories #trans story #rapunzel #folktales #fairytales #trans man #ftm #t4t

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whitney-alysse-young-blog · 6 months

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AN EVENING AT THE LAKE

Whitney Alysse Young

I walk in dim moonlight and gaze into the shallow glistening water of my favorite lake, admiring my reflection through its shimmering ripples. My shoulder length auburn hair flutters as a gentle breeze lightly wisps through it. My petite frame carries me silently and gracefully. I have practiced my stride for countless hours during my transition, and my hips sway imperceptibly underneath my fashionable print sundress. I look for a perfect spot and settle for a patch of lush green grass beside the shore. I have always relished the soft spongy texture of lush grass and it squishes between my newly manicured feet with fresh French tips adorning my toes. I shrug off my overnight bag from my feminine alabaster shoulders.

My overnight bag, a purse of sorts was given to me by my Mom. She made it by hand - khaki suede leather with dainty tassels, dotted with various brightly colored sequins that now reflect the dim moonlight. I fondly remember the day she gave it to me. She gave it to me soon after I came out, a token that symbolized both sadness over the loss of her son, and joy that she had gained a daughter. I love my bag's stylish look and appreciate the painstaking hours it took for her to make; most of all I cherish the symbolism of acceptance by my mother as her daughter - the fact that she viewed me as Whitney and that my male self was all but a distant memory. As I reminisce I feel a torrent of emotions, and tears well in my eyes. She was so happy that day. WE were so happy, and the warm embrace we shared provided me with a sense of validation that I was female and always have been.

My shoulders that held my bag, purse...whatever you want to call it...were once attached to muscular arms that have since evolved into their now slender form, replaced with a thin layer of fat underneath my skin like most other women possess. The thin extra layer has now enveloped my entire body, even hiding my once visible abdomen after years of feminizing hormone therapy. My face, once chiseled and angular has become softer, more rounded and feminine.

I kneel down and retrieve a beautiful lioness print fleece throw blanket from my bag. She has piercing eyes that always seem to beckon me. I gently spread my throw on the ground. I am Whitney now both on the inside and the outside. It was one year ago today that I had gender affirming surgery. So for all intents and purposes today is my birthday! Surgery is not a cure all. I have the same likes and dislikes, the same idiosyncrasies, but it has helped me cope with my everyday battles with the cold, cruel world - battles that I was unable to face before.

I smile and lie down on my throw gazing at twinkling stars and dim moonlight. I am finally happy that my mind is now in perfect alignment with my body. I look about furtively and ensure that nobody is watching before I remove my sundress, leaving me wearing only my pale shrimp colored bra and matching silk panties. I feel vulnerable as most women would even though I am sure I'm alone. We have always been told that we are the weaker sex. "The 'weaker' sex", I mutter. "it's such an archaic term as if women are not supposed to be strong". Our vulnerability is not a sign of weakness as much as it is a keen sense of awareness of things both seen and unseen - women's intuition if you will. I view my vulnerability as a strength, not a weakness.

I gaze lovingly at my bra and my breasts through the sheer lace fabric. I adore what hormone replacement therapy has done with my body. My breasts are not overly large. I never opted for implants because I never really felt they were necessary for my smaller frame. Besides, I like them! They are…well, they are perky! I feel a warm yearning deep within my tummy like a tiny match, and I watch with fascination as my nipples react. They become erect before my very eyes and protrude underneath my bra's sheer fabric, a product of the cool breeze intermingled with my growing feeling of desire.

I stare at my feminine body, a genuinely female form that finally matches my mind, my soul, my very feminine essence. I watch myself breathe, my tummy rising and falling methodically and my belly button piercing rises and falls in unison. My piercing has a surgical steel base with a cute little dragonfly that dangles at the end, one of many that I now own. I had my belly button pierced the day after the stitching was removed from my newly formed vagina last year - a symbol of rebirth like a Phoenix rising from the ashes.

The intensity of the little match inside grows within me. I stare at my flat front and feel just a trace of familiar wetness deep within my core. I feel blessed. Most transgender girls are unable to experience such a sensation, but when my mood is just right, I feel its erotic warmth, not as much as most women, but still plainly evident. I gently place my hand on my new vagina still awestruck that I have one now. The thin fabric of my panties is the only barrier that separates my hand from my vagina and I begin to caress it softly. My thighs part slightly so I can gain better access. It is much more natural for me to touch myself now, and I do not feel as clumsy as I once did right after my surgery.

My other hand roams freely about my body with soft, gentle caresses until it reaches one of my breasts, which I lovingly cup in my palm. I deftly remove my bra and slip off my panties. I am taking a huge risk now, but it enhances my desire. I gently graze my palms over my sensitive nipples, lightly pinching them from time to time. The sensation elicits a jolt of sexual pleasure along a direct conduit to my vagina.

I stare at my new vagina in awe. I whisper incredulously, "I have a pussy now!" It's still pretty hard to fathom. I gingerly touch my clitoris and a jolt of electricity courses through my body. Last year I would have been grasping my penis, but thankfully it no longer exists. Its only remnant is my now throbbing little button. My pleasure is much more fulfilling now, more passionate, more passive, and definitely more feminine! I am now consumed by an intense fire that burns brightly within me, but I am in no hurry to release like I was when I had the body of a male. I relax and just let go. I have all night.

I continue to lightly massage my throbbing little button and a tiny but audible gasp escapes from my full, glossy lips. My fleshly desire begins to grow exponentially when I gently plunge my finger into my quim's folds causing my back to arch instinctively. I allow my finger to remain inside me for a moment savoring its fullness. I slowly withdraw my finger and am met with a barren empty feeling that I ignore - for now. I tentatively touch my finger to my tongue and I taste my pussy juices. The familiar heady and slightly pungent, but strangely sweet taste of my sex overloads my already heightened sensory perception.

I slowly plunge my finger inside me once again and withdraw it until it is nearly out and plunge it back in. In-out-in-out...over and over. God, it feels so...so...nice, so...so - oh it is impossible to describe the pleasure I feel with mere words! I mew softly and caress my sensitive little button with my thumb, continuing to finger my vagina with one hand; I softly caress my nipples with the other. My movements become a little more methodical, more feverish now and I spread my legs wide open to full missionary position a passive position of submission in of itself. I bend my knees as if I am in imaginary stirrups at my gynecologist's office, only now I am examining myself.

I shudder and thrust my hips to meet the onslaught of me pleasuring myself. I moan uncontrollably as the delicious pressure of my impending orgasm approaches like a freight train hurtling down the tracks. My body can take no more and I am pushed over the brink. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over me like the ripples in the lake that gently lap the shore. As my orgasm fades into the night, I sit up. My legs are still quivering and they feel like rubber, preventing me from standing to get dressed again. I am content to just sit for a moment under dim moonlight and twinkling stars in my little patch of lush grass beside my favorite lake. I am a woman who is completely in touch with my feminine energy. I am a female in mind, body, and soul...[to be continued?]

(This is my first attempt to write transgender erotic fiction, any genre of fiction for that matter. Constructive criticism and suggestions on how I can improve my writing skills are always welcome. In fact they are encouraged, but those who offer derisive or hate-filled criticism will be blocked.)

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