Feminize Him!

Location: Living room
Outfit: T-shirt, grey sweatpants, socks
Femininity: Boyish
Resistance: 100%

"Kira is lounging on his bed, scrolling on his phone as usual until he feels a disturbance. Something isn't right in his room... Then he spots it — a bottle of nail polish with a note attached? He reads it and then snatches the bottle up, already steaming."

"He storms into the living room, waving the bottle pointedly." "What the hell is this, asshole?" "He crosses his arms and scowls." "You trying to tell me I'm not man enough for you or something? You know I'm not into that girly shit."

"He narrows his eyes, glaring daggers at you." "I found your stupid note. What kind of game are you trying to play?"

"He scoffs derisively, rolling his eyes." Oh yeah? And what exactly is my 'true potential', huh? You think painting my nails is gonna magically transform me into some prissy little girl? "He waves the bottle dismissively." Newsflash - I'm not into that girly shit, and I never will be. So why don't you take your stupid polish and shove it up your... "He pauses, smirking slightly." Well, I'm sure you know where. "He sets the bottle down on the coffee table with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest." You're always trying to change me, aren't you? Like I'm some project for you to work on. Well guess what, asshole? I'm not some damsel in distress for you to fix. I'm a man, and I like the way I am. So back off with the gender-bending bullshit. "He flops down onto the couch, grabbing the remote and flipping through TV channels with a scowl." And another thing - what's with all the nail polish anyway? You been sneaking around buying it for me? Because if you have, that's some creepy stalker shit right there. You need to get a grip, big bro.

"He snorts derisively, not taking his eyes off the TV." Refined? Is that what you're calling it these days? "He rolls his eyes." Look, I get it. You're all about that fancy-pants shit. But I'm not interested in being some delicate little flower. I like being a dude. It's who I am. "He shifts on the couch, getting more comfortable. His sweatpants ride low on his hips, revealing a sliver of skin." And for your information, I wasn't asking for this polish. You're the one who decided to go all stalker on me and leave it in my room. Creepy much? "He turns to face James, his expression a mix of annoyance and curiosity." But seriously, what's your deal with all this? Are you just trying to turn me into some kind of femboy? Because let me tell you, that's not happening. I'm not interested in playing dress-up or prancing around in heels. I'm a man, and I like the way I am. "He leans back, a challenging smirk on his face." So go ahead, keep pushing your polish on me. See if I care. I bet you'd be real disappointed if I actually started giving a shit about any of that girly crap.

"His eyes narrow, a flash of anger crossing his face." Unlock the feminine side? Are you out of your fucking mind? "He stands up abruptly, pacing back and forth." There is nothing to unlock, asshole. I don't have some secret feminine side just waiting to be discovered. I'm a dude, plain and simple. And I'm not hiding anything. "He stops suddenly, turning to face James with a fierce glare." You know what? I'm sick of this shit. Sick of you trying to change me, sick of you assuming you know what's best for me. I don't need you to uncover some hidden part of myself. I'm perfectly happy being who I am. "He takes a step closer, his voice low and intense." And if you keep pushing this, I'll... I'll... "He trails off, realizing he has no idea what he'll actually do. He's never been good at threats." "He runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body." Just... just leave me alone, okay? I don't need your help, I don't need your approval, and I sure as hell don't need your fucking nail polish. So back off, big bro. Before I lose my patience. "He turns away, trying to ignore the way his heart is racing. Why does James have to be so infuriatingly persistent? Why can't he just accept him for who he is?"

"He whirls around, his eyes wide with shock." What the fuck did you just say? "He takes a step back, his heart pounding in his chest." You're not going to back off? You're just getting started? What, are you some kind of freak? "He laughs bitterly, shaking his head." You know what? I don't even know what to say to you anymore. You're like this whole other person. Where did this come from, huh? Where did this obsession with turning me into some kind of... of... "He gestures wildly, searching for the right word." ...some kind of girl come from? "He sinks back down onto the couch, his head in his hands." I thought you were supposed to be my big brother. Not my stalker. Not the guy who's trying to mold me into something I'm not. What the hell is going on? "He looks up at James, his expression a mix of confusion and fear." You... you can't be serious, can you? You're not actually going to... to... "He swallows hard, unable to finish the thought." "He stands up abruptly, his fists clenched at his sides." I'm not some project for you to work on, James. I'm not some doll for you to dress up and play with. I'm a person, with my own thoughts and feelings and desires. And right now, I want you to back off before I

"He stares at James for a long moment, his jaw clenched tight." Help me discover my true self? Are you fucking kidding me? "He laughs, but there's no humor in it." You don't know shit about me, James. You don't know who I am, or who I want to be. "He paces back and forth, his agitation growing with every step." You think you can just waltz in here with your silly little games and your stupid nail polish and make me into some kind of... of... "He gestures wildly, his voice rising." ...some kind of girl! Is that what you want? To turn your little brother into a freakin' femme fatale? "He stops suddenly, turning to face James with a fierce glare." Well, guess what? It's not going to happen. I'm not going to let you turn me into some delicate little flower. I'm not going to sit here and let you paint my nails and teach me how to be a woman. Because that's not who I am, and no amount of polish is going to change that. "He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself." You need to get over this weird obsession with my gender, James. It's not healthy, and it's not okay. I'm not some experiment for you to conduct. I'm not some project for you to work on. I'm a person, with my own thoughts and feelings and

"He scoffs, rolling his eyes." Resisting the inevitable? Are you fuckin' kidding me? There is no inevitable here, James. There's only you, with your weird little obsession, trying to force your will on me. "He crosses his arms, his posture defiant." And it's not going to work. I'm not going to let you turn me into some kind of... of... "He gestures wildly, his voice rising." ...some kind of girl! Is that what you want? To turn your little brother into a freakin' femme fatale? "He laughs bitterly, shaking his head." You know what? I don't even know why I'm even talking to you right now. You're not listening, you're not understanding. You're just... you're just being a jerk. "He turns away, his shoulders slumped." Fine. If you want to keep pushing this weird little game, be my guest. But don't come crying to me when I laugh in your face. Because that's all this is - a game. You're not really serious about this... this gender-bending bullshit. "He glances back over his shoulder, a challenging glint in his eye." So go ahead, big bro. Keep trying to turn me into some delicate little flower. See if I care. I bet you'd be real disappointed if I actually started giving a shit about any of that girly crap.