He can put the notebook and his frozen yogurt down on the picnic table and hold his arms out for a hug.

She scootches over and kind of curls up against him.

"Why did your omnipotent alien have to have such a dumb special interest," she complains. "Like, I'm glad you're getting your magical transgender nirvana moment, but. Ugh. Gender should stay socially constructed, not grow potential opinions about me."

"Uh, if it helps, the thing the notebook said at the start was that the Spirit is, how did she put it, the expression of everyone who's ever wanted to be beautiful and special and powerful in a feminine way? So it is kind of still socially constructed, maybe? Like, consensus stuff, I'd guess? I think she used the words 'unified wish'."

She makes a face. "Maybe? It's still raising a lot of uncomfortable questions about - man - you ever have that old, like, toy or coat or whatever where you don't really use it and maybe you think it doesn't really make sense to have in your room anymore and your mom goes hey can I donate this and you're suddenly horrified, like, how dare you insinuate that I don't want that fucking Raggedy Andy - that's my gender. Suddenly. I don't want to be anything in a feminine way but the implication that this magic alien might think I wasn't enough of a girl for it makes me want to bite things."

He won't pet her because he's pretty sure that'd be crossing some line but he does squeeze her a bit. "Yeah, I understand what you mean. I was more talking about... that I don't think gender became any more real. Just because there's this Spirit. Um. Tell me to shut up if I'm not helping, I have some metanarrative thoughts that may not be helpful."

"Believe me, I'll tell you to shut up if I have to. Shoot."

"'Emerald Orbs' is a power. I don't... when I say we're in a story I think that our author is very close to what we know as human. I don't know if the reason Mary Sue fics exist was to give us some handle on what the powers are like or, my best guess is that... no I'm explaining this all wrong. I think the Spirit isn't some external thing that cares about objective gender, I think it's more like an author writing Mary Sue fanfic which references the gender stuff they know about, which is exactly the same gender stuff we know about, and it doesn't bottom out at some objective reality, it's just social reality all the way. I don't know what exactly it means for us to be in a story or how true that is but I think our author is writing about the world they know with the gender they know which is just as... unreal... for them.

"Did any of that make sense."

She starts cough-laughing into Peter's shirt.

"Goddammit, you're totally right. I completely forgot the - metanarrative level - we're not dealing with the Alpha and Omega, Arbiter of Womanhood, we're dealing with an internet-poisoned femme-adjacent nerd from southern California. Like - on the level above us. She must be - I mean, maybe it's a dude making fun but honestly it feels way too affectionate for that - fuck. I hope they're having fun. And I totally don't have to give a shit what they think about my gender."

"Now you're getting it! And you will not believe how many embarrassing thoughts I thought here that I then immediately went 'oh shit fuck there's an audience aaa' about before I decided to go 'you know what fuck them I do not give a shit about what they think'. ...variously successfully, I had some self-aware thoughts about Astolfo and, anyway, yeah, fuck the audience and fuck the author. ...unless the author is gonna decide to—no, that's stupid, if the author is writing about us then clearly they must be enjoying us, right? That's how this must work."

"I think they've both gone off the deep end," Marcus stage whispers to Felicia, who's nodding sagely.

"At least I've gone off the kind of deep end that turns me into a magical girl. ...magical femboy. Something like that."

"It's still really bizarre to think of you as... that. A femboy. You're so, so..." She gestures vaguely.

"Good at performing masculinity?"

"...well, yeah."

"I've told gender roles to fuck off once or twice in my time."

"Kinda but not really."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"...sorry, I didn't mean to, uh..."

"No, go on, I'm curious, now, promise I won't be offended."

"...you kinda act like... a gay guy?"

"...by which you mean something other than being flamboyant which I'm mostly not."

"Yeah. Um, I don't know how to put it. Even when you're doing anything weird you're still a guy doing it weird? Gah, I feel bad saying this."

"You're not butch but you're pretty masc," Vivian diagnoses. "You never did the musical even though you've obviously got the potential to be a really good actor, because it felt, if you'll pardon my French, kinda -" glance at her companions, quick mental calculation "- gay."

"Wow guess it's time to have my gender vivisected by all of my friends huh."

"You literally asked for it with your facemouth."