transdickiebird
Acin'Grayson
a fic writer's sideblogAO3: Acin_Graysonbasically where i store useful shit and blurbsmain: simons-saying
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Stop me if you hate the concept: short, fat, hairy lady gets isakai'd into a high fantasy, and instead of "oh look at all these ethereal elves woe for I am but a flawed mortal" routine she lands in Dwarf territory and is immediately revered as the most enchanting and desirable maid in all the land. This immediately becomes a zesty romantic drama. Thoughts
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Did I daydream this, or was there a website for writers with like. A ridiculous quantity of descriptive aid. Like I remember clicking on " inside a cinema " or something like that. Then, BAM. Here's a list of smell and sounds. I can't remember it for the life of me, but if someone else can, help a bitch out <3
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You always got strange looks whenever you fed the neighborhood ravens. “I give them food, they give me company,” you’d say. One day, a raven excitedly comes up to you and whispers, “A neighbor plots against you, my lord.”
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something about foreshadowing being more prominent the second time around reading a story but in a way that the meaning is changed forever and you can never view a story the same as you once did before. do you know what i mean.
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lrb reminded me i did actually think abt disabilities for obvious [gestures at self] reasons in my bug worldbuild that i never talk abt coz literally the most fun thing ever is designing mobility aids and other adaptive/assistive technology for non human anatomy
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there is never too much art. there is never "everyone depicts this scene/character so if I depict it, it won't add anything" yes it will. no two people will do the exact same piece of art even with the same prompt. so paint or draw or sketch or write your favorite character or scene from your favorite movie or TV show. there will always be someone who wants more of your art and more of what you have made and there is never too much art
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ultimate motivation to finish your book
from somebody who just published their book:
people will send you selfies of them holding your book and it WILL make you cry
realising you actually made money? from the thing you created?? mindblowing. incredible.
putting your physical book on your shelf and staring at it alongside all the books that inspired you, knowing you finished something you poured so much of your love and care and time into
seeing how many people have your book marked as ‘currently reading’ on goodreads and how many more have it on their ‘to be read’
family members asking if you’re Still Doing That Writing Thing? and being able to tell them that you actually just had a book published, thanks, yeah it was pretty successful, it’s been a really smooth process,
the immense excitement of having successfully launched a book and knowing you’re going to do it even BETTER next time around
seeing all the different currencies and marketplaces in which your book was sold…..all around the world ppl are holding it in their hands…..and reading it…….incredible………
sales reports are frustrating and awful but hey at least you’re making sales!!!!!
you’re an Author now buddy! i sort of went by author before bc this isn’t the first time i’ve technically been published - anthology stuff! - but like, now it’s official, it’s the best feeling in the world
the selfies. they’re the best part. the selfies are incredible dude
the feeling that this is only the beginning of a long, exciting, wonderful journey as an author - and that the only way to go is up.
so get out there and get writing!!!!!! your book is gonna be in your hands someday soon and it’s gonna be an indescribable feeling.
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that ‘pakige?’ post but me, a couple hours after posting a fic, like ‘comints?’
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Writing is not about 'telling an epic story' or 'making something that will outlive you'. Writing is about going "You know what would be fucking awesome?" and then committing word crimes
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Does this fanfiction make sense? Hold water? Not an ounce! Does that mean I’m going to stop writing it? Not an ounce! I’m a moron with a keyboard and half an idea and that’s your problem now. God couldn’t stop me and neither could my dad, and now I’m on your screen with another thousand words of whatever the fuck this is. Bon appetite bitch!
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informative
Dick is stuck on the couch with some busted ribs, he has an educational conversation with his brothers.
Ao3 Link
Dick lounges on the couch in a muscle tee and sweats, flicking disinterested between various streaming services.
His dysphoria isn't usually this bad. He's got it on a leash, for the most part. But today it's eating at him.
There's movement behind him, pulling Dick out of his mindless clicking. He turns to see Tim and Jason entering the media room. Jason has a bandage on his nose, and Tim a brace on his left wrist. It’s clear they’ve both just finished their post-patrol showers.
Jay pauses in the doorway for a moment, looking at Dick. "What's got you looking so…" Jason gestures to all of him. Which is fair.
He decides to be blunt about it. "My ribs are busted and I can't wear my binder."
"Oof," Jason sympathizes. The teen throws himself into the armchair next to the couch.
"That's rough, buddy."
Dick narrows his eyes, sits up as much as he's able and glares at his younger brother.
"Timothy, if you quote that line at me one more time, I swear-"
"What," the brat smirks. "You'll throw a pillow at me?" He knows Dick is on enforced bed rest. There's nothing he can really do. However…
"If you antagonize me I can sic Alfred on you."
Tim's smirk drops. "You wouldn't."
Dick glares harder. "Don't test me, rugrat."
Tim feigns having been shot in the chest, stumbling back a step. "A dig at my age," he croaks dramatically. "Whatever shall I do?"
Tim and Dick continue to bicker and snark for a while. Jason sits there, watching them with an amused expression.
"What's so bad about not being able to bind, anyway?" Tim asks cluelessly.
Jason and Dick lock eyes. "Cis people," they say in unison.
"It's a genuine question!" Tim protests. "You basically never bind as it is, what makes today worse?"
"It's probably about choice," Dick says after a moment of pondering. "I don't have the option of binding so even though I barely do it, I'm conscious of the fact that I can't."
"Makes sense," agrees Jason, nodding sagely.
"Stupid question," Tim starts slowly, carefully. Dick eyes him. “But why don’t you just, you know, get top surgery?”
“Oh my god, Timothy, you can't just ask people why they don't get top surgery!”
“Shut your fuck, Jason.”
Dick drags his hands down his face, tired beyond words.
Siblings, he swears.
“Mean Girls reference aside, Jason makes a good point. Asking a trans person about their surgical status is generally considered rude. I know,” he says before Tim can get defensive, “that you’re coming from a place of genuine curiosity. But most people, when they ask, they're just being invasive.”
Tim nods, subdued. “Okay, I understand.”
“Good. Now, personally? I want top surgery, but the recovery time isn’t something my schedule can handle right now. I have a lot of responsibilities that can’t be put off. It would be two weeks before I can return to light activities, and Nightwing would have to be shelved for at least six weeks. And we all know how bad I am about bed rest,” he jokes.
Tim nods thoughtfully. Jason leans across the space between them, places a hand on his shoulder and rubs it vigorously. It's the other’s way of expressing sympathy, Dick knows.
He appreciates it.
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Link
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: DCU
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Barbara Gordon & Dick Grayson
Characters: Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon
Additional Tags: Good Friend Barbara Gordon, Lesbian Barbara Gordon, Trans Dick Grayson, Trans Dick Grayson Week, Trans Male Character, Lesbian Character, Friendship, Good Friend Dick Grayson
Series: Part 1 of Trans Dick Grayson Week 2021
Summary:
Babs, being his best friend, is of course the first person he tells.
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doing it right
Ao3
Damian has some questions, Dick is there to help.
“Richard.”
“Hey, Dames,” Dick answers, placing a bookmark between the pages of his graphic novel.
The boy is standing in the doorway of the library, looking to the unfamiliar eye as though he’d rather be anywhere else. Dick knows better, though, and recognizes the lines of nervousness in the set of his shoulders.
Dick pats the neighboring seat of the couch invitingly. “Join me.”
Damian does, crossing the room and perching on the couch with an uncharacteristic stiffness.
He must be very anxious about something. Normally he’d claim his seat with all the princely grace of Alfred-the-Cat claiming the entirety of the sun room.
“What’s up, bud?” Dick asks, toeing the line between ‘understanding big brother’ and ‘too soft for Damian’s delicate sensibilities.’
For once, the softness pays off. Damian huffs out a sigh, collapsing into the cushions. He very much does not make eye contact as he says, “I seek your council. I’ve thought long on the subject, and I’m ready to admit that you have more experience here than I do.”
Dick has to work very hard to mask his surprise and concern. For Damian to be so open with his request for help means he’s genuinely desperate. “What can I help you with?”
“You are transgender.”
Dick blinks. “Uh, yes?” Where was this going?
“Father is very accommodating of your identity, as is made evident by...” Here, he gestures to Dick’s chest. He’s shirtless, as he usually is around the manor, and his top surgery scars are clearly visible.
“Yes?” He draws out the response, still lost. He decides that cutting to the chase probably won’t scare the boy off. “Damian, sweetheart, where are you going with this?”
Damian is silent for a few long moments, picking at the seam of his jeans.
“I do not think… I am not... ” He bites his lip. “I am not precisely a boy. I thought perhaps I was transgender, but being a girl feels wrong too, why- I am doing it wrong?”
Dick feels his heart break. He can’t believe he’s failed his sibling this way. If he had just taken the time to talk about things like this- No, now is not the time for should-haves. He needs to focus on fixing it.
He takes Damian’s hand in his own and holds it tightly, a grounding point. “Kiddo, angel, I think I understand.”
The kid finally makes eye contact. It’s so filled with hope that Dick feels the urge to cry.
“Transgender isn’t just boy-to-girl or girl-to-boy, it’s an umbrella term. There is more to gender than boy and girl. There's a whole, massive grey area in between and outside of those two options. You are not ‘doing it wrong,’ kiddo. You are doing it your way, and it’s beautiful. I think there's a word for what you’re feeling. Would you like to hear it?”
Damian nods, tears flowing freely. The kid has Dick’s hand in a death grip, now.
“Nonbinary.”
Dick feels like maybe all the years of struggling to find words for himself have paid off, seeing the look of relief on this kid’s face.
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Bright
There was something special that Dick had noticed about being trans.
It was the well of happiness that bubbled up inside him whenever people recognized him as a man.
As far as he was aware cis folks just didn't experience it.
He got it when strangers called him sir, when he heard the clerk at the DMV call for Mr. Grayson. He felt it whenever he heard Richard Jonathan, regardless of how exasperated Bruce was when he said it. Dick got the flare of joy when his teammates called him by his name. Every he and him and his was punctuated by pride in himself and a rightness in his soul.
Of course, these were all well and good, but nothing settled Dick into his bones like hearing Bruce say son.
Ao3
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Since you all liked Why I Wrote It bingo, I decided to make another variant. Transcript under the cut.
Keep reading
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