#trans klaus

[rockmerhys]

Would you believe? They’re all trans?? Absolutely incredible

[saddeningamountofredgummiebears]

https://www.etsy.com/listing/213450169/genderfluid-pronouns-necklace-custom

Genderfluid Pronouns Necklace - Custom - Build your own! - Silver Chain

This Genderfluid Pronouns Necklace - Custom - Build your own! - Silver Chain is just one of the custom, handmade pieces you'll find in our n

@the-trans-klaus okay but Klaus totally has one of these right?

[timetovolunteer]

When you find a typo but you’re so far down the Snicket rabbit hole you wonder if it IS a typo and it makes you suspect that Klaus has really been a girl all along

[baudelaire-library-blog]

Atypical

This is a short little trans!Klaus fic I’ve written for @autisticnoahfoster, because Josh and I are just tiny transkids getting by on headcanons, and Klaus is 100% a gentle transboy.

This isn’t accurate to canon, I’ve made it so the siblings end up living happily with Monty forever with no Olaf intervention.

Klaus Baudelaire first became aware of the concept of gender at the age of six as he was working through his parent’s large library shelf by shelf. He was, at that point, on the third shelf from the bottom (and rapidly running out of options, since he had always been short for his age and couldn’t reach shelf number 4), which is where he encountered a book titled “A Stranger In My Own Body: Atypical Gender Identity Development and Mental Health”. The book was hardcover, slightly heavy, and it weighed Klaus down as he slid it off the shelf. He carried it over to the large armchair, where he remained for more than 12 hours, taking detailed notes.

A habit of Klaus’s had always been to take notes whilst reading- he was a fan of lists, and his notebook full of records made it possible to organise his thoughts, and revisit his new knowledge if he ever found himself forgetting something important. He often found it soothing to sit in his room with the lights dimmed and read back through his folders.

The notes he made while reading this book were incredibly detailed and specific, more so than usual. Gender was never really a concept that had occurred to him before- his parents were relaxed in how their children chose to dress and behave, so when their younger daughter had asked to cut off all of her shoulder length hair and give away her dresses and skirts, they hadn’t seen it as anything worth mentioning. To them, she was just a girl that didn’t like to be feminine (which, in their opinion, was a societal construct that nobody should be required to adhere to in any case). However, as Klaus made his way through a book filled with facts and research that told him that it was possible not to be what you’re expected to be, he became increasingly convinced that ‘Laila Baudelaire’ didn’t exist.

By the time Beatrice Baudelaire walked into the library at 9 o’clock to take her child to bed, she found Klaus fast asleep with a book closed in his lap and a page of his notebook filled with neatly printed facts about gender divergence and the disconnect between sex and gender. The page ended with “Conclusion: I think I might be a boy”.

She carried the sleeping child upstairs to his room and switched the light off, promising herself that she’d speak to him soon about everything.

---

The next morning, the Baudelaire parents were woken before dawn broke by their youngest child sitting at the end of the bed with a clip board and a series of flashcards. His hair was messy and falling in his eyes, and his glasses weren’t yet on, causing him to squint a little in order to make out the features of his parents faces. Beatrice noted that his pyjamas were getting slightly small on him, the ends of the sleeves only coming partway down his wrists. She smiled fondly at him, and marvelled at how old he seemed to have gotten all of a sudden.

“Mother, Father. I couldn’t sleep so I’ve put together a presentation.” “Laila, it’s not even six yet.” mumbled Bertram, scrambling sluggishly to sit upright in his bed. “This is important. Do you know what Gender Identity Disorder is?”

He continued to walk them through his notes, complete with diagrams and references, for a further hour until he felt they understood where he was coming from. When both parents nodded and agreed that Klaus was almost certainly correct in his feelings that he should have been born male, the young boy felt a breath of relief leave him that it felt like he’d been holding for 12 hours. They sat and discussed for a while longer how they could accommodate his feelings and validate his identity. They eventually came to the conclusion that, for now at least, the boy was content with a simple change of language- for him to be referred to as their son, with masculine aligned pronouns, and the name he would have been given had he been assigned male at birth.

—

From that day onwards, he lived as Klaus, and memories of Laila were all buried.

Violet, of course, was onboard immediately even without Klaus’ detailed explanation (however, when she noticed quite how much her little brother seemed itching to educate her, she sat down and diligently listened to the presentation, accepting note cards and information packets she was expected to keep for future reference. She even smiled and nodded when Klaus ran away with himself and his words tumbled together into an unintelligible string of sounds that she couldn’t quite make out).

When Sunny was born, she was brought up as neutrally as possible- Bertram and Beatrice refused to give in to pink babygrows and a pastel pink nursery, instead opting to raise her in soft yellows and whites until she was old enough to choose for herself what she liked. She spent time with Violet every day, watching her sister build and invent, with her eyes filled with wonder and her tiny hands grabbing for the tools (though, in hindsight, that could solely have been a desire to use Violet’s favourite screwdriver as a chew toy). She was closest, however, to Klaus, who was her best friend from the first day she came home. There was never any clear reason why, but the two were thick as thieves almost immediately. Klaus was a fiercely protective older brother, always filled with the softest love for his little sister. His only wish on his twelfth birthday was for his baby sister to grow up happy, safe, and herself.

Klaus knew he was lucky to be in such an environment, one where gender roles were the subject of jokes and disagreement, instead of being rule of law for raising children. Looking back, he couldn’t picture himself and Violet growing up with waist length pigtails and frilly frocks, pushed to cooking and dressing up rather than reading and creating. There was something about his parents’ attitude that kids have a right to discover and decide for themselves that filled Klaus’ heart with warmth. He knew, from the moment they accepted him, that he wanted to model his future self after them.

—

The Baudelaire fire arguably hit Klaus harder than either of his sisters. Violet, at fourteen, was ferociously mature and independent, emotionally able to get through anything. And Sunny, despite being less than a year old, had already developed a level of stability that Klaus didn’t expect to ever reach in his life.

When he lost his parents, he lost his security. Although they weren’t 100% capable, Violet and Sunny could easily cope on their own, but Klaus was too sensitive. Through the jumble of anger, sadness, and sheer terror that seemed to cloud his brain from the moment Mr Poe’s ominous figure descended onto Briny Beach and delivered the dreadful news that grey morning, Klaus was internally kicking himself for expressing any form of emotion whatsoever. “I’m a boy. Boys don’t do this. Crying is weakness, weakness is feminine.” Although the conscious part of him was aware that sensitivity wasn’t rooted in gender, and that women were far from weak, too much of him was filled with darkness and hurt to listen to that part of him. In his world, everything had come crashing down- two of the only people that truly understood him had gone, forever, taken away like a wisp of smoke.

The first night at the Poe household, he managed to wake Edgar and Albert by sobbing gently into his pillowcase. Apparently, to real men like the Poe boys, losing both of your parents in a sudden and tragic accident wasn’t a valid excuse for a boy to be in tears, so they threw pillows at Klaus until he learnt to cry silently. Then, life at Count Olaf’s house, where he was faced with psychological abuse and constant misgendering every opportunity, had sucked so much out of the siblings that even crying felt too much for Klaus. He dragged himself through everyday, so caught up in trying to solve everything, save everyone, protect his sisters with his every waking breath, and burned himself out. He found himself drifting away like ash in wind, and the only chunk left of him that felt capable of feeling anything at all, felt strongly that he wished he had perished alongside his parents that dreadful day.

—

When the Baudelaires arrived at their Uncle Monty’s home, it took a long while for Klaus to come back to his old self. He had become used to nothing going right, and refused to become comfortable with a new guardian until he was certain they were safe. Safety felt a long way off for him, though, even if his sister’s felt secure in their new home.

Klaus settled into a rigid caricature of his old self for the first few weeks. Everyday he would rise, silently eat breakfast at the table until he was excused, and resign himself to the library for the remainder of the day. He would sit stiffly in an uncomfortable desk chair, refusing to allow himself access to the heavenly-looking beanbag, because comfort isn’t possible in a world of uncertainty. For people like him, comfort is a myth. He read and read until he ran out of books on the shelves, and then started from the beginning, this time with a pencil and paper to take notes, just as he did when he was a child. Reality hit when he realised that the past couple months had completely ripped out every core part of who he once was, as he struggled to even comprehend what he was reading about the Virginian Wolfsnake, let alone write it up.

All the heartbreak culminated when he came across another shelf in the library, filled with fiction and photo albums. One album was titled Baudelaires in the loopy script that was so unmistakably his mother’s. A tear was already trickling down his left cheek, which he aggressively wiped away because manly, manly, manly.

He couldn’t internalise the pain once he reached the second page and saw LAILA ROSE BAUDELAIRE, 22.03.2000 accompanied by that one hideous baby photo in which he’s wearing a puffy knee white length dress and pink ribbons in his hair. He allowed himself to cave, to give into all the demons that had been tearing him apart since the day he stepped foot in the charred ruins of his childhood sanctuary. He sank to the floor with the photo album clutched to his chest, his hands shaking. He cried out desperately for his mother, begged for his father, wished for some way that he could see them again. He needed his mother’s soothing voice telling him that he was such an intelligent boy, the brightest young man she’s ever met, the son anyone who be lucky to have. He wanted his father to marvel at his work and look down with a tear in his eye as he wonders at how someone like him ended up with such a perfect son. Realistically, Klaus knew that could never happen. Logic told him that his parents were dead, gone, buried. But his heart, the heart he’d tried to switch off so desperately, was crying out for a miracle.

Instead of a miracle, he received a Monty. Which, looking back, he realised was an incredibly close second.

His uncle found him on the floor of the library and pulled him straight into a hug. He held the shaking boy close and sobbed with him; the man let out loud, ugly cries that couldn’t possibly be seen as manly. Klaus’s damp eyes widened as he looked at the scene in front of him.

Monty, a tall, cisgender scientist with an incredible moustache and not a hint of femininity surrounding him, was in tears. Actual, messy tears. The kind of tears that so many people had told Klaus he couldn’t shed because they would stop him being seen as the boy he was. Something there clicked in the 12 year old- somewhere in his brain, his emotions felt like they’d been switched back on. Sadness didn’t feel like breaking anymore, it felt like a normal human feeling.

He started to pick up the pieces of the old Klaus from that point onwards. As Monty helped him cover up the page of the photo album and replace it with a current photo and the words KLAUS CASSIAN BAUDELAIRE, 22.03.2000, he recovered his sense of pride. As he went shopping with Violet for new gears for her newest invention (a shower head that acted as a three-in-one soap dispenser, shower, and hairdryer to save water, money, and time) he recovered the feeling of childlike wonder. As he babysat Sunny and watched her open cans of pasta sauce and chocolate pudding with her large teeth, he remembered how to feel love without pain. The first time Uncle Monty took all three children to the cinema together, Klaus remembered how to be happy. And he never let that go, in all the rest of the years he lived with Monty.

—

On Klaus’s 17th birthday, he received a small gift wrapped vial from Monty. He knew what it was as soon as he saw the size and shape of the package and tried his best to still his shaking hands as he unwrapped the present. As expected, it was a shot of testosterone, and Klaus flung himself into his uncle’s arms for a hug, sobbing with gratitude. After five years in a safe home with a loving parental figure, the boy had learnt to show emotions again. Nowadays, he took pride in being called a crybaby. He realised, somewhere along the line, that his parents would be so proud of him for being able to be sensitive and smart when so much of the world has told him that those traits were strictly for girls. They would be proud of the man he’s grown up to be, and that fact alone is enough for him.

Violet’s gift was also small, but meant just as much. It was a little bottle of blue nail polish, silver glitter swirling in with it.

“You remembered." “Of course I did, Klaus. You always stole mine when we were little. One of your first notecards to me was ‘one day i will take over the world with a huge beard and some really sparkly nails’. Monty’s present gets you one step closer to the beard, so I’m really just filling in the blanks."

Klaus grinned, a genuine smile taking over him. It hit him in that very moment that this was exactly where he needed to be. Although it would, of course, be preferable for his mother and father to be stood by his side as well, he realised that the family that he had built for himself through everything was strong, and sensitive, and perfect.

[greenes]

a concept: trans klaus

[rockmerhys]

A little sketch redraw cause the absolute power he radiates here is incredible

[rockmerhys]

Happy Valentine’s Day!! Got a sneak peak of the Vday photo shoot the UA did post apocalypse, just 4 u😌❤️

[amr102-art]

Its Trans Day of Visibility so i hope all of you have/ had a good day and do well on your endeavors!

(Also pictured: Lili Elbe, Marsha P. Johnson, Silvia Rivera, Alan L Hart, Reed Erickson, and Lou sullivan (source: 10 trans people in history post+ Transguys.com + lit by Trans people)