#queer people shouldn’t ever feel othered in their own family

[everythingsbetterunderthestars]

Similar to the other post I just made but I need to scream it again into tumblr because I want to: MY PARENTS ARE SO AMAZING you guys if you think people from different generations can’t understand us (especially queer people) that’s not true my parents are literally the best

[ireadyabooks]

Summer Full of Shivers ☀️☠️🩸

Summer scaries have arrived! This time of year is for spooky stories around the campfire and spine-tingling books that you maybe shouldn’t save for right before you go to bed. But hey, that’s part of the fun, right! We can never get enough horror in our lives and have some chilling reads for you to sink your teeth into in the summer heat! Check out some of our recent favorites below, and don’t forget to keep an extra light on at night! Or don’t . . . we leave that up to you . . .

The Getaway by Lamar Giles

Jay is living his best life at Karloff Country, one of the world's most famous resorts. He's got his family, his crew, and an incredible after-school job at the property's main theme park. Life isn't so great for the rest of the world, but when people come here to vacation, it's to get away from all that.

As things outside get worse, trouble starts seeping into Karloff. First, Jay's friend Connie and her family disappear in the middle of the night and no one will talk about it. Then the richest and most powerful families start arriving, only... they aren't leaving. Unknown to the employees, the resort has been selling shares in an end-of-the-world oasis. The best of the best at the end of days. And in order to deliver the top-notch customer service the wealthy clientele paid for, the employees will be at their total beck and call.

Whether they like it or not.

Yet Karloff Country didn't count on Jay and his crew -- and just how far they'll go to find out the truth and save themselves. But what's more dangerous: the monster you know in your home or the unknown nightmare outside the walls?

Start reading The Getaway now!

Shiver by Maggie Stiefvater

From the #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Raven Boys, the haunting and original supernatural romance returns in a new edition

For years, Grace has watched the wolves in the woods behind her house. One yellow-eyed wolf--her wolf--is a chilling presence she can't seem to live without. Meanwhile, Sam has lived two lives: In winter, the frozen woods, the protection of the pack, and the silent company of a fearless girl. In summer, a few precious months of being human . . . until the cold makes him shift back again.

Now, Grace meets a yellow-eyed boy whose familiarity takes her breath away. It's her wolf. It has to be. But as winter nears, Sam must fight to stay human--or risk losing himself, and Grace, forever.

Start reading Shiver now!

The Deep Dark by Molly Knox Ostertag

From Molly Knox Ostertag, writer-illustrator of the New York Times and ABA Indie bestselling The Witch Boy trilogy and The Girl from the Sea, comes a darkly beautiful story of identity, family, love, loss, and magic.

Everyone has secrets. Mags’s has teeth.

Magdalena Herrera is about to graduate high school, but she already feels like an adult with serious responsibilities: caring for her ailing grandmother; working a part-time job; clandestine makeouts with a girl who has a boyfriend. And then there’s her secret, which pulls her into the basement each night, drains her of energy, and leaves her bleeding. A secret that could hurt and even kill if it ever got out -- like it did once before.

So Mags keeps her head down, isolated in her small desert community. That is, until her childhood friend Nessa comes back to town, bringing vivid memories of the past, an intoxicating glimpse of the future, and a secret of her own. Mags won’t get attached, of course. She’s always been strong enough to survive without anyone’s help.

But when the darkness starts to close in on them both, Mags will have to drag her secret into the daylight, and choose between risking everything . . . or having nothing left to lose.

Start reading The Deep Dark now!

A Darker Mischief by Derek Milman

The Honeys meets The Secret History in a work of dark academia like no other -- a boarding school thriller about a queer teen from Mississippi who finds himself swept into a world of old money, privilege, and the secret society at the heart of it all.

When Cal Ware wins a scholarship to an elite New England boarding school, he's thrilled to leave his past behind. Back home in Mississippi, he was the poor, queer kid who never fit in. But at Essex Academy, he'll be able to reinvent himself. Or so he hopes . . .

But at Essex, Cal's classmates only see his cheap clothes and old iPhone. They mock his accent, and can't believe he's never left the country, or heard of The Hamptons. Cal, at his breaking point, is about to give up and return to Mississippi when he learns about a secret society on campus -- the key to becoming Essex royalty.

Cal knows he's not exactly secret society material, but to his surprise, he finds an unlikely champion in the handsome, charismatic, and slightly dangerous Luke Kim. As they get swept up in the mystery and glamour of the Rush process, Cal finds himself falling in love for the first time.

But as the initiation rituals grow riskier -- and increasingly nefarious -- Cal must decide how far he's willing to go, and how much of himself he's willing to sacrifice, to save everything and everyone he cherishes most. Because nothing at Essex -- not even Cal's first love -- is quite what it seems.

Start reading A Darker Mischief now!

The Other Ones by Fran Hart

A beautiful and unputdownable story about love, friendship, and the ghosts that grief can leave behind, The Other Ones is a heartfelt, contemporary romance with a haunting twist . . .

Salem Amani is a world-weary sixteen-year-old living with his mother and older sister in a haunted house. But all Sal really wants is to be ordinary, which is hard to do when you live in a house full of ghosts. And when a strange boy arrives on his doorstep asking more questions than he’s at all comfortable with, Sal’s efforts to be ordinary are put under even greater strain. Until Pax makes his offer: “I could help you with the hauntings . . . I’m good with ghosts.”

But despite his initial dislike of Pax, Sal can’t help but find himself unexpectedly drawn to the boy. And as the two grow closer, and Pax offers to help Sal scare away his ghosts for good, Sal finds himself sinking deeper into a lie concealing the truth about his family.

When the true nature of the “hauntings” is revealed, Sal must confront reality – or risk losing Pax for good.

Start reading The Other Ones now!

[thtdamfangirl4]

I tried really hard to bring my hopes down so I wouldn’t be disappointed by the RWRB movie and despite both my best efforts and some truly great scenes from the actors in the movie, I was so upset by it.

The Paris scene was gorgeous and intimate and IMPORTANT. Sarah as Zahra was literally flawless. Taylor and Nick were infinitely better than I thought they were going to be. The chemistry was good. I liked Uma Therman.

But.

I was never going to be happy with this movie. It was rushed (due to the nature of it being a 2 hour movie) and cut out not only important scenes for development, it cut people who are integral to the plot and entire plot lines that were paramount to the book’s intention.

It needs June. It needs Nora and Pez to be ACTUAL characters. It needs Ellen and Oscar to be divorced and have the family dynamic that makes Alex who he is. It needs Rafael Luna. It needs Catherine. It needs Bea to be flawed and have a personality and not be sanitized for no discernible reason. It needs the full progression of Alex and Henry’s relationship. It needs emails. It needs better coverage of the email leaks and aftermath. It needs friendship and queer community. It needs 23 year old protagonists. It needs Alex spiraling and figuring himself out.

If I’m honest, that omission might be what disappointed me the most and I haven’t let myself ruminate on it until these words were being tapped out by my fingers. Alex’s bisexual awakening in the book made me feel more seen and understood than any other book I’d ever read, any character I’d connected to. And it resonated within his character throughout the book. Without him learning about himself, the importance of this story is diminished for me and my own journey and connection.

RWRB is my favorite book of all time. I turn to it when I’m happy, sad, anxious, confused, tired, wired, and everything in between. It’s literally perfect to me, no matter anyone else’s opinion. I relate to Alex more than any other character in any other media. Henry is my favorite fictional character, period. I wanted so desperately to like this movie.

There were scenes I loved. But so much in between reminded me starkly of what it was missing.

This is not a hate post about this movie, nor does it stand to denigrate the actors or writers or crew, etc. Nor does it serve to shame anyone who DID love this movie. I hope you DO love it. I hope it brings joy to those who loved the story before and invites those who are unfamiliar into these characters. Most of all, I hope it provides joy to young queer audiences who are seeing themselves represented in a romcom.

But this process feels almost like grief, which sounds so dramatic. For me and people like me, whose souls were unwittingly bared on the pages Casey McQuiston wrote years ago. For people who found an anchor in this novel and hold on for dear life so we don’t drown. To me, this book is perfect, and to alter it in any way was going to disappoint me.

My hope is that in the coming weeks, I can find a way to truly separate this book and my unending catalog of feelings about it from this movie adaptation, which I probably would have loved if I wasn’t a die hard book fan, so that I can enjoy both and recognize that only a piece of the book made it to the screen.

(Truthfully my greatest hope is that they personally grant ME the rights and unlimited budget to write and direct a full miniseries adaptation that is a faithful interpretation to the letter, but no one is going to do that.)

I’ve seen like hundreds of posts already saying that we shouldn’t shit on this movie or take away from other people enjoying it, and I agree. And I apologize if you feel that’s what I’m going with this post. It’s not my intention. But I do want to say that you’re also allowed to be disappointed. You’re allowed to feel like you would’ve wanted it to be different. Just don’t walk around disparaging the book or the talented people who made it possible, and certainly not the fans who are just loving the story and characters you love too, just maybe in a different way.

Idk, this blog is a mess and a safe space and I just wanted to put my initial feelings somewhere because they have kind of taken over my brain. I’m tired and still processing, but if I don’t get out this spiral, I’ll stay in it.

I want to like it. But there were just too many changes. It felt like a different story. As Alex and Henry have both said, “we all must learn and grow.”

[enemy-to-the-state]

I Am Transsexual and Want An Education

Most of you know I am a transsexual. I do not hide it and I have never tried to.  

I am also a college student. Like many Americans, I cannot really afford to be there. Many trans people like me cannot afford higher education either.  

Transgender people don’t have the same kind of opportunities that cisgender people do. Either you live a lie and torture yourself because you know your family will forsake you if you say anything, you tell them everything and are kicked out, or you are lucky enough to get a neutral to positive response. Yes, neutral is lucky. 

The trans folks that say nothing and live in agony being unsupported and trapped can maybe go to college but know that if they say anything their tuition might be out the door, that their parents or family or guardians will throw them to the wolves. So they either suffer in silence or end up committing suicide. 

The trans folks that came out and were kicked out have basically no chance at ever going to college. You might be able to get government and private loans, but you’ll be drowning in debt by the end of it all. Debt you may never be able to pay off alone. 

The remaining lucky ones most likely still come from low to middle income families that can’t really afford college anyways. It is a borderline no-win scenario. 

How is this fair? Can’t everybody see this is cruel? This is a struggle faced by all queer people, but is intensified by the trans label. We are easy targets. 

I was once talking to a girl who was also queer, but not trans. I said, “Rae, in my state, it is illegal for me to use a public restroom. It is illegal for public institutions to give me my life saving medication. I have almost no rights. We are witnessing a modern-day segregation.” I live in Florida. 

She turned to me and said, “You know it’s hard for me too. There are like, no gay bars in my city. No fun ones anyway.” 

I felt like I had been slapped. I never really talked to her again.  

Of course, all queer people face oppression, but for her to dismiss the violent and dangerous actions that are being taken against my people in favor of her own problems highlights a deeper issue with the attitude towards trans people. 

We are an afterthought. 

We are different. 

Other people are so far removed from the plight of trans people that they do not recognize how privileged they are by comparison and damn it I refuse to be an afterthought for much longer. 

I do not want to live in quiet, secret moments anymore. I do not want to be in the shadows and behind closed doors. I want to feel comfortable out in the open. I shouldn’t have to hide. Let me wear what I want and be what I am. Let me hold my boyfriend’s hand in public. Let me be able to take off my binder or just not wear it at all. Let my people have healthcare and basic human decency. Let us get an education and let us use the goddamn bathroom. Let us. Let us. Let us. 

[midnight-in-eden]

This is what I meant in this post about being an angry atheist. I was taught to think anger was bad. I was taught to place moral value judgments on emotions. And anger like angry atheists have was especially bad, because it was linked with pride.

And you know what? It’s true!! My anger is my pride saying I should never have been treated like this. My anger is my self worth saying I am worth more than this, and not because of my Father, because of me. My anger is my protectiveness for myself and people like me saying The abuse and trauma have gone on too long.

For my ancestors who left their homes and walked on bloody blistered feet for a lie. For the girls in my family tree who were treated like cattle, collected in a herd for their husband. For the people of color denied access to exaltation and eternal families through the priesthood and temple ban, for the queer people who are still denied those things. For boys at BYU who underwent electroshock and induced vomiting “therapy” for the crime of being gay. For every child abused by a bishop or other leader. For every woman who wanted a career and gave it up because she was told her only priority was having and raising children. For every young man who felt pressured to go on a mission or face rejection and soft shunning from his community. For children who were denied baptism because their parents were gay. For everyone who was ever traumatized by a violent and invasive temple ceremony they weren’t warned about ahead of time. For all the people in poverty who faithfully gave their mite even when it was the only money they had. For every non-believing kid who’s sat through self righteous lectures from emotionally abusive parents. For every person who was ever coerced to sit in a closed office with an adult man and confess masturbation or anything else sexual, especially the children who were made to give these “confessions.” For every girl who grew up feeling like her body and sexuality were a dirty and shameful thing because of all the modesty culture and law of chastity lessons. For all the kids who grew up scared by the story of Abraham and Isaac, for all the kids who felt like their faith wasn’t good enough because they knew they couldn’t do what Nephi did to Laban.

I’m angry about historians who were excommunicated for telling the truth. I’m angry about people excusing racist and sexist scriptures. I’m angry about men telling me they’ve read about polygamy and came to terms with it, so I should too. I’m angry about queer people being called enemies of the family and signs of Satan’s increasing power. I’m angry about being manipulated. I’m angry about the abusive relationship I was taught to have with God, how I was told I would never make it without him, that I shouldn’t trust my own understanding but only what God (and his prophets) said, that I should be grateful he gave me this opportunity to have trials, to suffer, because it would turn me into someone better, someone he could accept living with him. I’m even angry for the girls who sadly took out their second pair of earrings based on the whim of an old man.

Yes, I’m angry! Aren’t you? Isn’t it wonderful? Isn’t it such a relief, such a gasp of fresh air straight into your lungs, to allow yourself to be angry about things you know are wrong?

[kiiitasticbooks]

Sex Dreams About Your Friends Are Normal, Right? | A Review of Cash Delgado Is Living The Dream by Tehlor Kay Mejia

Cash Delgado has a good life in the quaint town of Ridley Falls. She has Joyce’s Bar, where she manages a familiar group of regulars and emcees the ever-popular Karaoke Thursday. She has her six-year-old daughter, Parker, whose spunky attitude always keeps life interesting. And she has her best friend, Inez O’Conner, who improves Cash’s sometimes overly responsible outlook with one full of joy and potential.

But change is on the horizon when Chase Stanton, the former bar manager at Joyce’s (not to mention Cash’s last hookup), returns to town with business prospects that could threaten the local institution and all of Cash’s plans to someday bring new life to the place. And if that isn’t enough, Cash starts having very intimate dreams of Inez. Dreams that could threaten the foundation of her well-ordered life.

As Cash embarks on a reluctant journey of self-discovery, she’s forced to confront all the ways she’s been hiding in her own life. But will she choose to remain the same, or will the desire for love (even a love that looks different than she ever imagined) prove worth the risk?

⭐⭐⭐⭐

I received an ARC of this book in exchange for this review. Cash Delgado Is Living The Dream was published July 2nd, 2024.

I love a good book about small town communities and queer found families, and Cash Delgado Is Living The Dream really delivered on both of those fronts!

There’s not too much to say about the plot for this book that hasn’t already been said by the description. We follow Cash, a single mom who works at a bar she loves, but unfortunately does not own. When a former coworker (who Cash has also slept with in the past) stops by one day, Cash learns a big franchise is thinking of opening a bar in their small town, almost certainly spelling the doom of Cash’s bar unless she can figure out a way to make sure the rival bar doesn’t open a location.

Also? She’s having sex dreams about her best friend. But she’s totally straight… right?

I was actually surprised by how much I enjoyed this book! I probably shouldn’t have been, since I really enjoyed Tehlor Kay Mejia’s earlier companion novel, Sammy Espinoza’s Last Review, but Cash Delgado was not a book I expected to love as much as I did!

A big part of my enjoyment of this book was the community. Being set in a small town with a close community, it was easy to fall in love with the side characters and the way they interacted with each other! Being able to rely on the old men who come into the bar to argue about which musician did a cover of a song better or the Stitch And Bitch club meeting to do crafts together made this book feel cozy and sweet, and made Ridley Falls seem like the sort of place I would love to live!

But I also really enjoyed the queer found family in this book. Cash’s best friend she totally isn’t having sex dreams of, Inez, lives on a farm with a few other queer characters, and they’ve built their own mini community out there, helping out with whatever everyone else needs and piling their money together to pay for the house. Even though Cash is totally straight and not having sex dreams featuring another woman, this small community of LGBT people is there to help her out in any way they can, whether that’s helping Cash with her fashion choices, watching Cash’s daughter for a while, or helping Cash realize that society’s compulsory heterosexuality has made her think she can only have relationships with men (and not her best friend, who she is having sex dreams about).

If you’re in the mood for a small town community, queer found family, and a main character realizing she may not be straight and may, in fact, be in love with her best friend, I definitely recommend Cash Delgado Is Living The Dream!

[youngharridan]

Let me preface this by saying I adore Annie Autumn. Its one of those great one-sided/parasocial kind of relationships of my online life. I’ve been following her for awhile now after seeing her tagged in another friend of a friend’s posts. I bought a baby blanket from her for a friend of mine when she was doing a fundraiser, and I have one of her hook rugs on my wall as well. It’s devastating watching her go through cancer treatment and now settling into end of life care - but I also really value what she is willing to share with everyone. Radical queer community grieving at its finest. That is all to say – this is a funny kind of review. Not that I ever strive for objectivity or anything like that. But this little zine really hit a spot in me and its really interesting to give a bit of a longer reflection.

I bought this on a total whim – Annie made merch for her living wake and asked Instagram if people would buy it. Which hell yeah of course we wanted it! Let everyone wear this beautiful stuff while giving you some money for your family. And she included this zine with the totes and shirts. I knew she had built her home with her family and community and jumped at the prospect of hearing more of the story. It’s a short zine – maybe less than 10 pages, colour printed on cardboard. It’s structured around two weather events that woke Annie up in the middle of the night and threatened her home. In-between these stories of fire and flood is a bit about the actual building of the house. The thing that initially struck me is that this is a climate crisis story, displaying the real cost of our collective failure to address climate change meaningfully and sharing the material effects of this crisis. This is a story that is both political and personal in all the best ways.

Annie talks about how building her own house was a dream of her’s from when she was a teenager. I feel like it is such a strong trope in the queer community that we all dream of running away from society to start a commune where we can live freely and build things together. I have personally harboured this dream, but during the covid-19 pandemic lockdowns I was confronted with just how interconnected we all are and thought that this kind of running away fantasy was really cruel. I don’t want to turn away from the world, I want to find a way to live in it while also being in community. This also led to me to looking at houses instead of property when it came to buying a house. I did kind of abandon the city in the end and run away a bit, but just up the hill to the mountains where we could afford to buy a house just outside of the insane Sydney property bubble.

There is something that I struggle with that comes in later in the zine that I want to dig into a bit, towards the end. Annie reflects on how the house is far from perfect but that:

“I love that she’s still a bit of a work in progress, that I’ve shown my kids that you can build a life using your hands, and that life can resist dominant paradigms that dictate that you ‘cant’t’ or ‘shouldn’t’ make things for yourself. That tells you not to try in case the things you make are ‘bad’. That its better to work in a soulless job so that you can pay others to use their hands to make things for you – your clothes, your home, your garden”.

This kind of sentiment is something that greatly irritates me while also being something that I agree with to a certain extent. I live in a house that someone else built – and we paid someone to renovate the kitchen in the first year we lived here, and I don’t regret either of these decisions. I also really want to learn how to paint the walls myself and take on other repairs eventually as well because learning skills rules. The garden is going to be a lifelong project for me. At the moment it’s a fussy cottage garden that the retirees that lived here before us obviously poured so much love and care into, but is full of plants I want to slowly replace with natives and productive fruits and vegetables. I don’t think it’s fair to blanket say that all work is soulless, and that paying professionals to do things for you is wrong. But I do think we could all stand to learn the true cost of things like food and clothes on the planet, people, and animals. So call me a fake radical but I am happy to give some jobs over to the tradies in my house.

I kind of can’t believe how long this went – hoping to review more zines this year but don’t expect >500 words very often.

[allamericansbitch]

the gaylor thing is so harmful because it shouldn’t even fucking matter, but it turned into this giant discourse that’s directly affecting so many different people in so many different ways… taylor herself, the men she’s seen with, the girls she’s seen with, young queers who might have felt safe in that particular community and are now feeling marginalised and attacked (my coming to terms with myself experience had a lot of “oh if they’re so aggressive about XX being gay, they’ll be just as aggressive with me” - like these are teenagers we’re talking about, literal children that may’ve found comfort in that part of the community, that felt validated and seen) ((i’m obviously excluding grown ass adults that keep pushing the gaylor agenda from this particular example)), just anyone who got/gets caught up in this fucked up narrative - it’s a mess

but the main thing for me is like who the fuck cares who taylor swift is fucking/has fucked!? that’s a weird thing to speculate on, it’s such an invasion of privacy, it’s literally no one’s business

-

i’m gay so every other song i listen to is gay (to me) sometimes.

like avril lavigne’s girlfriend… wow gayest song ever… TO ME!! when i’m singing it in the car with my friends having a laugh about my life and reminiscing about this girl i had a crush on in sixth form “hey hey you you i don’t like your girlfriend // hey hey you you i want to be your girlfriend”

in that moment, for me, it’s a song about three girls, about my situation and only that — which is completely okay and not at all harmful!!

it’s the same as when i’m jamming to ed sheeran’s “i don’t wanna know about your new man ‘cause if it was meant to be, you wouldn’t be calling me up trying to, cause i’m positive that he don’t wanna know about me” thinking about this bi girl who left me for a guy - ed obviously didn’t write this song to portray that story

like please, if i sing “i knew you dancing in your levi’s” about my masc ex gf or if my cousin sings it about a fuckboy from her uni, what’s the difference?? that’s what art’s all about..

for example, rwylm is my favourite song because it encapsulates perfectly how i feel about my depression: help! i’m stuck!! everybody has moved on and continues to do so but i have this giant weight holding me back!! in my head i’m still the same as i was at 23!! my friends and family have accomplished things, the world has moved on and i can’t figure out how to!! i’m right where happiness left me!!

i don’t interpret it as a relationship/breakup song at all, which was pretty blatantly written as.

my interpretation doesn’t harm anyone bc i don’t shove this perspective down anyone’s throat, nor do i state it to be the ultimate truth. i just use the song for catharsis and comfort.

taylor’s songwriting is very nuanced and that’s good art!! it’s good to have a broad audience that can relate to all these core feelings you’re emoting, each in their own way, but it’s just creepy to speculate about someone’s (a stranger’s!!!) sex life, queer or straight alike.

taylor’s songs can be gay… or they cannot. not because they were written that way, not because she is or isn’t queer, but because of the way everyone personally experiences it.

i wish this was the common ground in the fandom bc i’d love to publicly joke on my blog that “hits different is sooo having your first girlfriend after only dating boys” without people interpreting it as me claiming that taylor is a wlw and coming at me with death threats and (more often than not) homophobic narratives. it would literally just be a silly text post that some people might relate to, or find funny, simple as. it wouldn’t be me pushing someone’s sexuality, bc (1). i wouldn’t; (2). it’s not that deep (as seen by the many examples i shared)

personally i’d just love to listen to my gay little music (that’s not necessarily factually gay) and ramble about it with on my silly little blog to my little internet friends without it being a whole thing (tm) which gaylors have made

idk this is just a rant bc it makes me sad… everyone should be free to enjoy music as they wish and most importantly everyone should learn to not gamble/theorise on people’s sexuality - it’s frankly very unsettling

so!! many!!! good!! points!!! yes yes yes!!!

it's sooo weird to care about who taylor is with. it literally does not matter and it does have negative affects, she's said so herself.

i've only seen a few discussions about the negative affects this whole gaylor thing has had on people who are queer and obviously i cant speak to it, but i didnt even realize it could totally affect y'all negatively due to it's intensity, that makes total sense and could be really intimidating.

and what you said about those songs and your examples is so!! true!!! thats your interpretation and thats beautiful! it's yours and thats what makes the songs, or any art in general, come alive. you're making it your own and giving it meaning and depth with your own layered experience. that's unique and your painting it with your own colors! no one else has those exact colors! it's yours! and thats amazing!

a great example of how individual, personal experiences can make interpreting a song so much deeper and more meaningful, you saying you view rwylm about your personal experience with depression... i view it through my relationship with my anxiety and the trauma it's caused me! and that's so cool how 1 song can mean so many things like a relationship to a person, depression and anxiety? thats so magical and much more meaningful than just simply speculating about which of her exes its about...

[alarrytale]

hi, i’m the anon about not liking harry and louis anymore, i appreciate your answer. we may have different opinions but your points definitely made me see things from a different perspective. one thing i definitely agree with is that louis could be more gentler with his queer fans. i know he’s closeted and because of that he can’t be as open as he may want, but there’s plenty of artists who aren’t lgbtq+ who love and appreciate their queer fans. i’m an optimistic, for better or for worse, and i hope there’s a change in the future where he realizes and/or is able to do appreciate us more explicitly.

i also agree we should be able to criticize harry and louis when they fuck up. they’re not perfect and they’re bound to do things who are wrong or we may disagree with. i hate how when you criticize them you’re immediately labeled as a hater. i love them and that’s why i criticize them. back when harry made the nyc clap for the queen i was angry and disappointed, and i rightfully criticized him, but i got asks about how i was the worst for criticism him, and when louis and team cancelled the asian leg without a clear explanation i also criticized it and once again i got asks about how i hated him and should just become a solo harrie if i hated him so much. as i said i don’t hate them, i don’t think i could ever hate them, but when they act wrong we have the right to speak about it.

i’ve been defensive over louis after the tweet because i saw people mocking his mental health and speculating about his trauma in regards to jay’s and fizzy’s deaths, and as someone who’s struggled with mental illnesses and has had loved family members die which has deeply affected me, i felt sick and distraught over it. but i’m now aware not everyone who’s felt hurt over the tweet are like that, they’re just expressing and letting out their feelings. i shouldn’t police how they process their feelings.

sorry for rambling, it’s just something i’ve been thinking about and i needed to let it out. once again thank you for answering my ask, i hope i didn’t come up as rude or pushy, i just want the best for people in this fandom and i don’t want people to feel sad, angry or miserable all the time, but that’s not something i can control. i wish you well and i hope you have a good day.

Hi, again anon!

Yes! It's important to call them out and criticise them. They aren’t perfect and they will screw up. We shouldn't just tolerate everything with a smile. You aren’t a hater if you don’t agree with something they do and point it out. We love them, but the love shouldn't be unconditional. If calling them out on stuff you don’t approve of makes you a hater, then fuck them. Stick to your own morals and boundaries.

And yes we shouldn't police how others process their feelings! We've all got our own frame of references and life experiences that influences our feelings and reactions. If you are easily influenced by others feelings or reactions and don't like how they act, then instead of criticising them, policing them or try to control them, remove yourself from the situation. Mute, unfollow or block. It's important to not kill others joy or let other people drag you down with their negativity. Fandom is supposed to be fun!

[kulturegroupie]

Hi this isn’t related to classic rock or Led Zeppelin. This is more of a question . What is your opinion on religion? Especially Christianity? I was raised a Christian and recently I am either agnostic or an atheist. Is that bad? I’m not hating on Christian’s it’s just there are many that love to spread fear and force their religion down everyone’s throats. And they always say awful things about the lgbt. They say that we have to repent. Also as to why I have problems being religious is because I am a part of the lgbtq+. And I have been stuck in the closet for a while. I feel like I’m such a bad person because I want to have a girlfriend instead of a boyfriend. I know I shouldn’t care about what people think, but deep down inside I feel like I’m bad because I might be bisexual or a lesbian. I know it’s not a sin to be a part of the lgbtq+ but I sometimes think it is because for so long my relatives and other people I know have always said that the lgbtq+ is evil. It’s awful because they have caused so much hate and they have hurt so many people who are a part of the lgbtq+. I honesty hate religion because it feels like it’s here to control and hurt people who think freely and are trying to be their true selves. I hate seeing my parents and relatives judge gay people and trans people. When gay people and trans people are just trying to be them selves. I wish I can be out the closet and be my true self but I don’t think I will ever be able to.

hi anon! well i'll let you judge yourself, here are two of my favourite books:

from nietzsche's book:

The belief in the Christian God has become unbelievable [...]. Everything that was built upon this faith, propped up by it, grown into it, including the whole European morality, is bound to “collapse”.

from crowley's book:

Man has used the idea of God to dictate his personal conduct, to obtain power over his fellow, to excuse his crimes, and for innumerable other purposes, including that of realizing himself as God. He has used the irrational and unreal conceptions of mathematics to help him in the construction of mechanical devices. He has used his moral force to influence the actions even of wild animals. He has employed poetic genius for political purposes.

this is a very sensitive topic and i know i'm most likely gonna get hate for saying this, but my experience with christianity has always been very complicated. the religion was forced upon me when i was a little child, and i was forced to believe in something i really didn't and couldn't understand as a small kid. they say "get them young and you'll have them forever", right? well that process didn't quite work on me, i quickly grew tired of being thrown by force into a spiritual path that wasn't my own.

i sought new spiritual ways, i read about eastern religion, i read philosophy and that's how i understood where i stand and what i stand for.

being a christian AND a queer person is especially hard, i get you, because that religion (and many of its followers) asks you to betray something as pure and personal as sexuality and feelings of love.

my opinion on religion is simply this: everyone has their own religious path and it's their right to follow it. it's something extremely personal, which has to form throughout a person's life assisted by their own personal choices and beliefs. no one can force a spiritual journey on you, not the government, not your teachers, not your family. it has to come from you.

[ahungeringknife]

Repostober 2

Me, a certified robot fucker taking a semi horror prompt and writing some robot fucker shit about it instead? Couldn't be! There is no actual robot fucking in this so sorry but Josh and Ryan def got up to some shit in my daydreams oops

The first patchwork Josh met was named Alan when he was twelve. He’d been assigned to his family by the government same as most families and he was Josh’s best friend. Alan looked like an older teenager with one brown and one pink eye and clearly mechanical hands. His hair was the same color as his pink eye and was styled in the fashion of the decade. Despite being a patchwork Josh thought Alan was the coolest guy ever and Alan was around all the time always ready to do whatever Josh wanted to do and talk about what worried him. A constant companion for the difficult task of being a teenager in a country without a lot of teenagers.

By the time Josh graduated college he’d aged out of needing Alan. He had other friends and Alan was returned to the government. Josh missed him but knew it was always coming. Like when his dog had died. His family had had a mock funeral for Alan when Josh had been on winter break as a sophomore in college and his parents had returned him. It made the feelings easier to deal with that Alan was dead and not just somewhere else.

The next patchwork Josh met was in his late thirties. He’d never married and his social worker was concerned he didn’t have a partner and wasn’t really looking. Josh never claimed to be asexual and his lack of contribution made Jenna worried about him. He just liked being by himself mostly and other humans could be so exhausting. Especially in his work. Retail was hell. So Jenna had had him fill out a form for a patchwork and one day after work there was a knock at the door.

He wasn’t expecting anything really. Usually patchworks were reserved for families or people trying to start families like his own parents. They weren’t sent out to single people. Especially not queer men. So he was surprised when he answered the door to green and blue eyes and a blue fringe. “Hello, I’m Ryan,” the patchwork said and offered Josh his hand to shake. Josh just stared at him for a second before good manners kicked in and he shook Ryan’s hand. He was handsome and Josh realized was exactly his type. He’d fucking filled out a form about it of course he was Josh’s type!

“Josh Natter,” he said.

“It’s so great to finally meet you. Can I come in?”

“Oh- of course,” Josh opened the door further and looked at Ryan’s hands. Alan had been a family unit so was allowed to look more like a robot. Ryan’s hands were perfectly people like.

“Did no one call ahead?”

Josh thought about the calls he’d screened the last few days with a grimace. “They did, I just didn’t pick up. I was busy,” he lied.

“No problem. Here, this is for you,” and he pulled a folder out of the satchel he had and handed it to Josh. “Take a look at it, please.”

Josh took it and sat on the couch. Ryan made himself comfortably in the lounge chair. He made an appropriate surprised sound of delight when the leg part kicked out so he could recline. Josh hated to admit it was pretty endearing. He read over the documents while some talk show played on the TV. It was basically telling him what was expected with Ryan and if he didn’t participate within five years he’d be fined a not insignificant amount. If he no longer wished to participate Ryan would leave and Josh’s BLI would be reduced to that of a college student. He couldn’t afford his current home with his part time retail job and that rate of basic income. It also outlined what he could and couldn’t do to Ryan and if he was found to have damaged Ryan he’d be fined or face jail time.

He rubbed the back of his neck as he finished reading. He shouldn’t have let Jenna convince him to fill out the form. Of course, contribution didn’t include raising. He was friends with plenty of people who’d been raised by the state. It hadn’t been torture and no one came out any less fucked up than those raised by actual parents. If anything having patchwork parents was probably better. Patchworks couldn’t make mistakes.

Josh put the papers down and just looked at the TV. “Need to talk about it?” Ryan said in a way that was very similar to how Alan used to ask when Josh was having some Very Big feelings as a teenager.

Josh looked over at Ryan and he was so pretty. He was sure some government intern had had to investigate his porn history to go with him filling out the questionnaire to make Ryan his Type. “You’re real cute,” he said.

Ryan’s lips moved in a shy smile. “Thanks.”

“But I’m not attracted to you at all,” Josh got up and Ryan frowned at him. He put the folder on the coffee table. “It’s late. Come help me make dinner,” and he went into the kitchen. Ryan followed slowly behind him, unsure how to handle this. Josh didn’t know what he expected. He had enough sense of self worth to not just fuck a stranger as soon as he met him. Josh didn’t call himself asexual but he wasn’t really interested in people until he got to know them. Then the horny thoughts were constant and distracting just like any allosexual.

“You want me to help you make dinner?” Ryan asked, confused, standing on the edge of the kitchen.

“Yeap,” Josh said taking stuff out of the fridge. He wanted something for comfort. Box mac and cheese with spicy sausage and spinach. Maybe some biscuits out of a tin. Yeah. That sounded great. He looked over when Ryan didn’t move, his mismatched eyes looked so confused. Josh had never seen a patchwork so out of their element. “Well?”

“This is not… how I expected it to go,” Ryan said slowly.

Josh grimaced. “So what I’m hearing is other men are more desperate than I am,” he put everything in the fridge on the counter and went digging for a pan to wilt the spinach and another to boil the macaroni.

“Most people without families want to complete their contribution to society quickly. So yes,” Ryan said.

Josh shrugged. “I’m just not interested. So make yourself interesting,” he said.

Ryan blinked at him. “Huh. Okay I guess,” and he stepped into the kitchen to help Josh with dinner.

[mishafletcher]

Are you a Gold Star lesbian? (Just in case you don't know what it means, a Gold Star lesbian is a lesbian that has never had the sex with a guy and would never have any intentions of ever doing so)

So I got this ask a while ago, and I've been lowkey thinking about it ever since.

First: No. I am a queer, cranky dyke who is too old for this sort of bullshit gatekeeping. 

Second: What an unbelievable question to ask someone you don't even know! What an incomprehensibly rude thing to ask, as if you're somehow owed information about my sexual history. You're not! No one—and I can't reiterate this enough, but no one—owes you the details of their sex lives, of their trauma, or of anything about themselves that they don't feel like sharing with you.

The clickbait mills of the internet and the purity police of social media would like nothing more than to convince everyone that you owe these things to everyone. They would like you to believe that you have to prove that you're traumatized enough to identify with this character, that you can't sell this article about campus rape without relating it to your own sexual assault, that you can't talk about queer issues without offering up a comprehensive history of your own experiences, and none of those things are true. You owe people, and especially random strangers on the internet, nothing, least of all citations to somehow prove to them that you have the right to talk about your own life.

This makes some people uncomfortable, and to be clear, I think that that's good: people who feel entitled to demand this information should be uncomfortable. Refusing to justify yourself takes power away from people who would very much like to have it, people who would like to gatekeep and dictate who is permitted to speak about what topics or like what things. You don't have to justify yourself. You don't have to explain that you like this ship because this one character reminds you a bit of yourself because you were traumatized in a vaguely similar way and now— You don't have to justify your queerness by telling people about the best friend you had when you were twelve, and how you kissed, and she laughed and said it was good practice for when she would kiss boys and your stomach twisted and your mouth tasted like bile and she was the first and last girl you kissed, but— 

You don't owe anyone these pieces of yourself. They're yours, and you can share them or not, but if someone demands that you share, they're probably not someone you should trust.

Third: The idea of gold star lesbians is a profoundly bi- and trans- phobic idea, often reducing gender to genitals and the long, shared history of queer women of all identities to a stark, artificial divide where some identities are seen as purer or more valuable than others. This is bullshit on all counts.

There's a weird and largely artificial division between bisexuals and lesbians that seems to be intensifying on tumblr, and I have to say: I hate it. Bisexual women aren't failed lesbians. They're not somehow less good or less valid because they're attracted to [checks notes] people. Do you think that having sex with a man somehow changes them? What are you so worried about it for? I've checked, and having sex with a man does not, in fact, make your vagina grow teeth or tentacles. Does that make you feel better? Why is what other people are doing so threatening to you?

Discussions of gold star lesbians are often filled with tittering about hehe penises, which is unfortunate, since I know a fair few lesbians who have penises, and even more lesbians who've had sex with people, men and women alike, who have penises. I'm sorry to report that "I'm disgusted by a standard-issue human body part" is neither a personality nor anything to be proud of. I'm a dyke and I don't especially like men, but dicks are just dicks. You don't have to be interested in them, but a lot of people have them, and it doesn't make you less of a lesbian to have sex with someone who has a dick.

There's so much garbage happening in the world—maybe you haven't noticed, but things are kind of Not Great in a lot of places, and there's a whole pandemic thing that's been sort of a major buzzkill? How is this something that you're worried about? Make a tea, remind yourself that other people's genitalia and sexual history are none of your business, maybe go watch a video about a cute animal or something. 

Fourth: The idea of gold star lesbians is a shitty premise that argues that sexuality is better if it's always been clear-cut and straightforward—but it rarely is. We live in a very, very heterosexist culture. I didn’t have a word for lesbian until many years after I knew that I was one. How can you say that you are something when your mouth can’t even make the shape of it? The person you are at 24 is different to the person you are at 14, and 34, and 74. You change. You get braver. The world gets wider. You learn to see possibilities in the shadows you used to overlook. Of course people learn more about themselves as they age.

Also, many of us, especially those of us who grew up in smaller towns, or who are over the age of, say, 25, grew up in times and places where our sexuality was literally criminal.

Shortly after I graduated high school, a gay man in my state was sentenced to six months in jail. Why? Well, he’d hit on someone, and it was a misdemeanor to "solicit homosexual or lesbian activity", which included expressing romantic or sexual interest in someone who didn’t reciprocate. You might think, then, that I am in fact quite old, but you would be mistaken. The conviction was in 1999; it was overturned in 2002.

I grew up knowing this: the wrong thing said to the wrong person would be sufficient reason to charge me with a crime.

In the United States, the Defense of Marriage Act was passed in 1996, clarifying that according to the federal government, marriage could only ever be between one man and one woman. It also promised that even if a state were to legalize same-sex unions, other states wouldn't have to recognize them if they didn't want to. And wow, they super did not want to, because between 1998 and 2012, a whopping thirty states had approved some sort of amendment banning same-sex marriage.

Every queer person who's older than about 25 watched this, knowing that this was aimed at people like them. Knowing that these votes were cast by their friends and their families and their teachers and their employers. 

Some states were worse than others. Ohio passed their bill in 2004 with 62% approval. Mississippi passed theirs the same year with 86% approval. Imagine sitting in a classroom, or at work, or in a church, or at a family dinner, and knowing that statistically, at least two out of every three people in that room felt you shouldn't be allowed to marry someone you loved.

Matthew Shepard was tortured to death in October of 1998. For being gay, for (maybe) hitting on one of the men who had planned to merely rob him. Instead, he was tortured and left to die, tied to a barbed wire fence. His murderers were both sentenced to two consecutive life terms in prison. This was controversial, because a nonzero number of people felt that Shepard had brought it upon himself.

Many of us sat at dinner tables and listened to this discussion, one that told us, over and over, that we were fundamentally wrong, fundamentally undeserving of love or sympathy or of life itself.

This is a tiny, tiny sliver of history—a staggeringly incomplete overview of what happened in the US over about ten years. Even if this tiny sliver is all that there were, looking at this, how could you blame someone for wanting to try being not Like This? How can you fault someone who had sex, maybe even had a bunch of sex, hoping desperately that maybe they could be normal enough to be loved if they just tried harder? How can you say that someone who found themself an uninteresting but inoffensive boyfriend and went on dates and had sex and said that it was fine is somehow less valuable or less queer or less of a lesbian for doing so? For many people, even now, passing as straight, as problematic as that term is, is a survival skill. How dare you imply that the things that someone did to protect themself make them worth less? They survived, and that's worth literally everything.

Fifth, finally: What is a gold star, anyhow? You've capitalized it, like it's Weighty and Important, but it's not. Gold stars were what your most generous grade school teacher put on spelling tests that you did really well on. But ultimately, gold stars are just shiny scraps of paper. They don't have any inherent value: I can buy a thousand of them for five bucks and have them at my door tomorrow. They have only the meaning that we give them, only the importance that we give them. We’re not children desperately scrabbling for a teacher’s approval anymore, though. We understand that good and bad are more of a spectrum than a binary, and that a gold star is a simplification. We understand that no number of gold stars will make us feel like we’re special enough or good enough or important enough, or fix the broken places we can still feel inside ourselves. Only we can do that.

The stars are only shiny scraps of paper. They offer us nothing; we don’t need them. I hope that someday, you see that, too. 

[gilmores-glorious-blog]

more of my vox machina bullshit, reaction to the last three episodes edition:

- percy and scanlan’s friendship is my favorite thing (the two of them + vax are my comfort trio of dumbasses),, i loved scanlan pulling percy aside to be like “i love you but you’re fucked up” because.. so true of him <3 also when scanlan tried to flirt with cassandra and percy just immediately went “NO.”,,, idk i just have a besties agenda

- grog is actually an icon and my hero and i love him. king of skinny dipping in acid <3 (his friendship with pike is!! actually the cutest fucking thing ever!!!!!!! they mean everything to me!!!!) but why is his dick named captain winky

- i let out a genuine screech of horror when cassandra’s name appeared on the gun,, like i figured that she was working for the briarwoods but it still HURT (and percy’s reaction was so sad <3 when he just crumpled to the ground and started sobbing i,, 🥺😭😭)

- these last two episodes were rough…… my loves were really going through it,,, what with keyleth fucking dying and scanlan losing his voice which for him is probably literal hell and vex having to fight her brother and percy. y’know. HAVING A FUCKING DEMON INSIDE OF HIM.

- okay but vex being so upset about keyleth when she got wounded/was dying is something that can be so personal……….. like,, she’s always been a bit cold to keyleth because of abandonment issues or whatever but she was so anguished when she thought keyleth was going to die!!! 🥺🥺🥺😭 sapphic behavior

- scanlan using the same spell to silence delilah that she used on him and imitating her little “shhh” is,,,,,,,,,, very hot ngl,,,

- why do i feel kinda bad for the briarwoods though :/ this is why villains shouldn’t be sexy,, it makes me sympathize with them 😩😩

- vax calling scanlan by his last name is so important to me actually <3

- actually vax’s nicknames for everyone are just,, 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 so precious 🥺🥺🥺 as well as scanlan calling keyleth “green” :,)

- god there was so much twin angst :,(… possessed!vax fighting vex who just wanted her brother back,, vax being worried about vex when she was fighting orthax!percy,,, they are everything to me…….

- okay…………. it’s time we talk about mr. percy de rolo…. because HOLY FUCKING SHIT. first of all, demon!percy had no goddamn right to be as hot as he was. like,, jesus fucking christ 👀…. but also my GOD the trauma on that boy!! he was already so fucked up he didn’t need to have the freaking demon inside of him make him hurt/try to murder his new family while making him internally relieve his trauma by showing him his old family getting murdered again— and the whole battle was just so intense,, when he pointed the gun at himself i simply wanted to sob,,,, and the fact that the only way he finally got orthax out of him was by shooting his own hand out??!!!!? someone get this bitch some fucking therapy, p l e a s e. or just let me tenderly hold him.

- AHSKRJTHDAKTKTHDHAJTK EXPLICITLY CANON QUEER SCANLAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i’m legit. So Happy about this. like i knew that he and most of the other characters were at least implied queer in the campaign, but i thought the only thing they’d have in the show was vax being bi and i was just,, so excited that they decided to make it undeniably clear that scanlan is into guys !!

- speaking of the queer guys in this show… we knew that vax and gilmore had a thing, but like,, that last scene with the two of them,,,,, oh they FUCKED fucked. (good for them 😌)

- percy’s so nice and sweet and cute and carefree without orthax :,) he was smiling 🥺 and he was being genuinely kind to scanlan too which made me very happy because,, more people should do that actually

- @ these fucking dragon bitches: this is why we can’t have nice things.

sooooo yeah,, i’m in deep, and i would like season two to be here immediately please !!

[transgenderteensurvivalguide]

“Elliot Page doesn’t remember exactly how long he had been asking.

But he does remember the acute feeling of triumph when, around age 9, he was finally allowed to cut his hair short. “I felt like a boy,” Page says. “I wanted to be a boy. I would ask my mom if I could be someday.” Growing up in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Page visualized himself as a boy in imaginary games, freed from the discomfort of how other people saw him: as a girl. After the haircut, strangers finally started perceiving him the way he saw himself, and it felt both right and exciting.

The joy was short-lived. Months later, Page got his first break, landing a part as a daughter in a Canadian mining family in the TV movie Pit Pony. He wore a wig for the film, and when Pit Pony became a TV show, he grew his hair out again. “I became a professional actor at the age of 10,” Page says. And pursuing that passion came with a difficult compromise. “Of course I had to look a certain way.”

We are speaking in late February. It is the first interview Page, 34, has given since disclosing in December that he is transgender, in a heartfelt letter posted to Instagram, and he is crying before I have even uttered a question. “Sorry, I’m going to be emotional, but that’s cool, right?” he says, smiling through his tears.

It’s hard for him to talk about the days that led up to that disclosure. When I ask how he was feeling, he looks away, his neck exposed by a new short haircut. After a pause, he presses his hand to his heart and closes his eyes. “This feeling of true excitement and deep gratitude to have made it to this point in my life,” he says, “mixed with a lot of fear and anxiety.”

It’s not hard to understand why a trans person would be dealing with conflicting feelings in this moment. Increased social acceptance has led to more young people describing themselves as trans—1.8% of Gen Z compared with 0.2% of boomers, according to a recent Gallup poll—yet this has fueled conservatives who are stoking fears about a “transgender craze.” President Joe Biden has restored the right of transgender military members to serve openly, and in Hollywood, trans people have never had more meaningful time onscreen. Meanwhile, J.K. Rowling is leveraging her cultural capital to oppose transgender equality in the name of feminism, and lawmakers are arguing in the halls of Congress over the validity of gender identities. “Sex has become a political football in the culture wars,” says Chase Strangio, deputy director for transgender justice at the ACLU.

(Full article with photos continued under the “read more”)

And so Page—who charmed America as a precocious pregnant teenager in Juno, constructed dreamscapes in Inception and now stars in Netflix’s hit superhero show The Umbrella Academy, the third season of which he’s filming in Toronto—expected that his news would be met with both applause and vitriol. “What I was anticipating was a lot of support and love and a massive amount of hatred and transphobia,” says Page. “That’s essentially what happened.” What he did not anticipate was just how big this story would be. Page’s announcement, which made him one of the most famous out trans people in the world, started trending on Twitter in more than 20 countries. He gained more than 400,000 new followers on Instagram on that day alone. Thousands of articles were published. Likes and shares reached the millions. Right-wing podcasters readied their rhetoric about “women in men’s locker rooms.” Casting directors reached out to Page’s manager saying it would be an honor to cast Page in their next big movie.

So, it was a lot. Over the course of two conversations, Page will say that understanding himself in all the specifics remains a work in progress. Fathoming one’s gender, an identity innate and performed, personal and social, fixed and evolving, is complicated enough without being under a spotlight that never seems to turn off. But having arrived at a critical juncture, Page feels a deep sense of responsibility to share his truth. “Extremely influential people are spreading these myths and damaging rhetoric—every day you’re seeing our existence debated,” Page says. “Transgender people are so very real.”

That role in Pit Pony led to other productions and eventually, when Page was 16, to a film called Mouth to Mouth. Playing a young anarchist, Page had a chance to cut his hair again. This time, he shaved it off completely. The kids at his high school teased him, but in photos he has posted from that time on social media he looks at ease. Page’s head was still shaved when he mailed in an audition tape for the 2005 thriller Hard Candy. The people in charge of casting asked him to audition again in a wig. Soon, the hair was back.

Page’s tour de force performance in Hard Candy led, two years later, to Juno, a low-budget indie film that brought Page Oscar, BAFTA and Golden Globe nominations and sudden megafame. The actor, then 21, struggled with the stresses of that ascension. The endless primping, red carpets and magazine spreads were all agonizing reminders of the disconnect between how the world saw Page and who he knew himself to be. “I just never recognized myself,” Page says. “For a long time I could not even look at a photo of myself.” It was difficult to watch the movies too, especially ones in which he played more feminine roles.

Page loved making movies, but he also felt alienated by Hollywood and its standards. Alia Shawkat, a close friend and co-star in 2009’s Whip It,describes all the attention from Juno as scarring. “He had a really hard time with the press and expectations,” Shawkat says. “‘Put this on! And look this way! And this is sexy!’”

By the time he appeared in blockbusters like X-Men: The Last Stand and Inception, Page was suffering from depression, anxiety and panic attacks. He didn’t know, he says, “how to explain to people that even though [I was] an actor, just putting on a T-shirt cut for a woman would make me so unwell.” Shawkat recalls Page’s struggles with clothes. “I’d be like, ‘Hey, look at all these nice outfits you’re getting,’ and he would say, ‘It’s not me. It feels like a costume,’” she says. Page tried to convince himself that he was fine, that someone who was fortunate enough to have made it shouldn’t have complaints. But he felt exhausted by the work required to “just exist,” and thought more than once about quitting acting.

In 2014, Page came out as gay, despite feeling for years that “being out was impossible” given his career. (Gender identity and sexual orientation are, of course, distinct, but one queer identity can coexist with another.) In an emotional speech at a Human Rights Campaign conference, Page talked about being part of an industry “that places crushing standards” on actors and viewers alike. “There are pervasive stereotypes about masculinity and femininity that define how we’re all supposed to act, dress and speak,” Page went on. “And they serve no one.”

The actor started wearing suits on the red carpet. He found love, marrying choreographer Emma Portner in 2018. He asserted more agency in his career, producing his own films with LGBTQ leads like Freeheld and My Days of Mercy. And he made a masculine wardrobe a condition of taking roles. Yet the daily discord was becoming unbearable. “The difference in how I felt before coming out as gay to after was massive,” says Page. “But did the discomfort in my body ever go away? No, no, no, no.”

In part, it was the isolation forced by the pandemic that brought to a head Page’s wrestling with gender. (Page and Portner separated last summer, and the two divorced in early 2021. “We’ve remained close friends,” Page says.) “I had a lot of time on my own to really focus on things that I think, in so many ways, unconsciously, I was avoiding,” he says. He was inspired by trailblazing trans icons like Janet Mock and Laverne Cox, who found success in Hollywood while living authentically. Trans writers helped him understand his feelings; Page saw himself reflected in P. Carl’s memoir Becoming a Man. Eventually “shame and discomfort” gave way to revelation. “I was finally able to embrace being transgender,” Page says, “and letting myself fully become who I am.”

This led to a series of decisions. One was asking the world to call him by a different name, Elliot, which he says he’s always liked. Page has a tattoo that says E.P. PHONE HOME, a reference to a movie about a young boy with that name. “I loved E.T. when I was a kid and always wanted to look like the boys in the movies, right?” he says. The other decision was to use different pronouns—for the record, both he/him and they/them are fine. (When I ask if he has a preference on pronouns for the purposes of this story, Page says, “He/him is great.”)

A day before we first speak, Page will talk to his mom about this interview and she will tell him, “I’m just so proud of my son.” He grows emotional relating this and tries to explain that his mom, the daughter of a minister, who was born in the 1950s, was always trying to do what she thought was best for her child, even if that meant encouraging young Page to act like a girl. “She wants me to be who I am and supports me fully,” Page says. “It is a testament to how people really change.”

Another decision was to get top surgery. Page volunteers this information early in our conversation; at the time he posted his disclosure on Instagram, he was recovering in Toronto. Like many trans people, Page emphasizes being trans isn’t all about surgery. For some people, it’s unnecessary. For others, it’s unaffordable. For the wider world, the media’s focus on it has sensationalized transgender bodies, inviting invasive and inappropriate questions. But Page describes surgery as something that, for him, has made it possible to finally recognize himself when he looks in the mirror, providing catharsis he’s been waiting for since the “total hell” of puberty. “It has completely transformed my life,” he says. So much of his energy was spent on being uncomfortable in his body, he says. Now he has that energy back.

For the transgender community at large, visibility does not automatically lead to acceptance. Around the globe, transgender people deal disproportionately with violence and discrimination. Anti-trans hate crimes are on the rise in the U.K. along with increasingly transphobic rhetoric in newspapers and tabloids. In the U.S., in addition to the perennial challenges trans people face with issues like poverty and homelessness, a flurry of bills in state legislatures would make it a crime to provide transition-related medical care to trans youth. And crass old jokes are still in circulation. When Biden lifted the ban on open service for transgender troops, Saturday Night Live’s Michael Che did a bit on Weekend Update about the policy being called “don’t ask, don’t tuck.”

Page says coming out as trans was “selfish” on one level: “It’s for me. I want to live and be who I am.” But he also felt a moral imperative to do so, given the times. Human identity is complicated and mysterious, but politics insists on fitting everything into boxes. In today’s culture wars, simplistic beliefs about gender—e.g., chromosomes = destiny—are so widespread and so deep-seated that many people who hold those beliefs don’t feel compelled to consider whether they might be incomplete or prejudiced. On Feb. 24, after a passionate debate on legislation that would ban discrimination against LGBTQ people, Representative Marie Newman, an Illinois Democrat, proudly displayed the pride flag in support of her daughter, who is trans. Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene, a Georgia Republican, responded by hanging a poster outside her office that read: There are TWO genders: MALE & FEMALE.

The next day Dr. Rachel Levine, who stands to become the first openly transgender federal official confirmed by the Senate, endured a tirade from Senator Rand Paul about “genital mutilation” during her confirmation hearing. My second conversation with Page happens shortly after this. He brings it up almost immediately, and seems both heartbroken and determined. He wants to emphasize that top surgery, for him, was “not only life-changing but lifesaving.” He implores people to educate themselves about trans lives, to learn how crucial medical care can be, to understand that lack of access to it is one of the many reasons that an estimated 41% of transgender people have attempted suicide, according to one survey.

Page has been in the political trenches for a while, having leaned into progressive activism after coming out as queer in 2014. For two seasons, he and best friend Ian Daniel filmed Gaycation, a Viceland series that explored LGBTQ culture around the world and, at one point, showed Page grilling Senator Ted Cruz at the Iowa State Fair about discrimination against queer people. In 2019, Page made a documentary called There’s Something in the Water, which explores environmental hardships experienced by communities of color in Nova Scotia, with $350,000 of his own money. That activism extends to his own industry: in 2017, he published a Facebook post that, among other things, accused director Brett Ratner of forcibly outing him as gay on the set of an X-Men movie. (A representative for Ratner did not respond to a request for comment.)

As a trans person who is white, wealthy and famous, Page has a unique kind of privilege, and with it an opportunity to advocate for those with less. According to the U.S. Trans Survey, a large-scale report from 2015, transgender people of color are more likely to experience unemployment, harassment by police and refusals of medical care. Nearly half of all Black respondents reported being denied equal treatment, verbally harassed and/or physically attacked in the past year. Trans people as a group fare much worse on such stats than the general population. “My privilege has allowed me to have resources to get through and to be where I am today,” Page says, “and of course I want to use that privilege and platform to help in the ways I can.”

Since his disclosure, Page has been mostly quiet on social media. One exception has been to tweet on behalf of the ACLU, which is in the midst of fighting anti-trans bills and laws around the country, including those that ban transgender girls and women from participating in sports. Mississippi Governor Tate Reeves says he will sign such a bill in the name of “protect[ing] young girls.” Page played competitive soccer and vividly recalls the agony of being told he would have to play on the girls’ team once he aged out of mixed-gender squads. After an appeal, Page was allowed to play with the boys for an additional year. Today, several bills list genitalia as a requirement for deciding who plays on which team. “I would have been in that position as a kid,” Page says. “It’s horrific.”

All this advocacy is unlikely to make life easier. “You can’t enter into certain spaces as a public trans person,” says the ACLU’s Strangio, “without being prepared to spend some percentage of your life being threatened and harassed.” Yet, while he seems overwhelmed at times, Page is also eager. Many of the political attacks on trans people—whether it is a mandate that bathroom use be determined by birth sex, a blanket ban on medical interventions for trans kids or the suggestion that trans men are simply wayward women beguiled by male privilege—carry the same subtext: that trans people are mistaken about who they are. “We know who we are,” Page says. “People cling to these firm ideas [about gender] because it makes people feel safe. But if we could just celebrate all the wonderful complexities of people, the world would be such a better place.”

Even if Page weren’t vocal, his public presence would communicate something powerful. That is in part because of what Paisley Currah, a professor of political science at Brooklyn College, calls “visibility gaps.” Historically, trans women have been more visible, in culture and in Hollywood, than trans men. There are many explanations: Our culture is obsessed with femininity. Men’s bodies are less policed and scrutinized. Patriarchal people tend to get more emotional about who is considered to be in the same category as their daughters. “And a lot of trans men don’t stand out as trans,” says Currah, who is a trans man himself. “I think we’ve taken up less of the public’s attention because masculinity is sort of the norm.”

During our interviews, Page will repeatedly refer to himself as a “transgender guy.” He also calls himself nonbinary and queer, but for him, transmasculinity is at the center of the conversation right now. “It’s a complicated journey,” he says, “and an ongoing process.”

While the visibility gap means that trans men have been spared some of the hate endured by trans women, it has also meant that people like Page have had fewer models. “There were no examples,” Page says of growing up in Halifax in the 1990s. There are many queer people who have felt “that how they feel deep inside isn’t a real thing because they never saw it reflected back to them,” says Tiq Milan, an activist, author and transgender man. Page offers a reflection: “They can see that and say, ‘You know what, that’s who I am too,’” Milan says. When there aren’t examples, he says, “people make monsters of us.”

For decades, that was something Hollywood did. As detailed in the 2020 Netflix documentary Disclosure, transgender people have been portrayed onscreen as villainous and deceitful, tragic subplots or the butt of jokes. In a sign of just how far the industry has come—spurred on by productions like Pose and trailblazers like Mock—Netflix offered to change the credits on The Umbrella Academy the same day that its star posted his statement on social media. Now when an episode ends, the first words viewers see are “Elliot Page.”

Today, there are many out trans and nonbinary actors, directors and producers. Storylines involving trans people are more common, more respectful. Sometimes that aspect of identity is even incidental, rather than the crux of a morality tale. And yet Hollywood can still seem a frightening place for LGBTQ people to come out. “It’s an industry that says, ‘Don’t do that,’” says director Silas Howard, who got his break on Amazon’s show Transparent, which made efforts to hire transgender crew members. “I wouldn’t have been hired if they didn’t have a trans initiative,” Howard says. “I’m always aware of that.”

So what will it mean for Page’s career? While Page has appeared in many projects, he also faced challenges landing female leads because he didn’t fit Hollywood’s narrow mold. Since Page’s Instagram post, his team is seeing more activity than they have in years. Many of the offers coming in—to direct, to produce, to act—are trans-related, but there are also some “dude roles.”

Downtime in quarantine helped Page accept his gender identity. “I was finally able to embrace being transgender,” he says.

Page was attracted to the role of Vanya in The Umbrella Academy because—in the first season, released in 2019—Vanya is crushed by self-loathing, believing herself to be the only ordinary sibling in an extraordinary family. The character can barely summon the courage to move through the world. “I related to how much Vanya was closed off,” Page says. Now on set filming the third season, co-workers have seen a change in the actor. “It seems like there’s a tremendous weight off his shoulders, a feeling of comfort,” says showrunner Steve Blackman. “There’s a lightness, a lot more smiling.” For Page, returning to set has been validating, if awkward at times. Yes, people accidentally use the wrong pronouns—“It’s going to be an adjustment,” Page says—but co-workers also see and acknowledge him.

The debate over whether cisgender people, who have repeatedly collected awards for playing trans characters, should continue to do so has largely been settled. However, trans actors have rarely been considered for cisgender parts. Whatever challenges might lie ahead, Page seems exuberant about playing a new spectrum of roles. “I’m really excited to act, now that I’m fully who I am, in this body,” Page says. “No matter the challenges and difficult moments of this, nothing amounts to getting to feel how I feel now.”

This includes having short hair again. During our interview, Page keeps rearranging strands on his forehead. It took a long time for him to return to the barber’s chair and ask to cut it short, but he got there. And how did that haircut feel?

Page tears up again, then smiles. “I just could not have enjoyed it more,” he says.”

[scarlet--wiccan]

open letter to Marvel's X-Men office

To whom it may concern,

I'm a longtime reader of Marvel comics and a weekly buyer with subscriptions and pull lists at my local comic store. I'm also an American of Romani descent who has spent years researching and writing about the function of pop culture in the systemic racism that my people endure. Much could be said about the record of Romani characters in superhero comics, particularly the Scarlet Witch, but I'm writing today to raise concerns about the character's throughline in the current X-Men era, which has come to a head with her apparent murder in X-Factor #10, written by Leah Williams. First, however, I would like to address the racial and sexual violence visited upon the character Prodigy, as depicted by Williams, who is a white author, and the history of racist microagressions and the objectification that many readers have observed in Williams' past work. In X-Factor #10, Prodigy, a Black bisexual, is shown to have been sexually assaulted and murdered by a predator who specifically targets Black bi and gay men. Prodigy's assault and death transpired while he was dressed in a drag-inspired look, an arbitrary decision which served only to further sensationalize the homophobic violence. This plotline was abrupt and underdeveloped, and leaped without warning into imagery that many Black and LGBT readers found traumatizing. This was not an authentic or meaningful exploration of Black and queer experiences-- rather it was an exploitation and objectification of the violence done to Black and queer bodies. Coming from a white writer, this is wholly inappropriate. Leah Williams being bisexual herself does not excuse that. I am particularly disturbed by the implementation of pro-police messaging, via white character Aurora, after we have all spent the last year protesting police violence against Black lives. At worst, this is tone deaf, but I, and many other readers of color, found it to be egregiously offensive. Readers of color, particularly East Asian readers, have long been wary of Williams and her treatment of non-white characters. The repeated and disturbing objectification of East Asian women in her series X-Tremists struck a serious nerve, particularly with Williams' original character, Nezumi, who seemed redolent of racist WWII-era propaganda conflating Japanese people with rats. Her over-sexed and racially tokenized treatment of Akihiro in X-Factor has also put readers on edge, although many bit their tongue and endeavored to support her new book on account of its numerous LGBT characters and plotlines. Unfortunately, it seems as though that tentative faith was misplaced, and we must reiterate that LGBT representation does not outweigh violent racism. The Scarlet Witch is a complex character with an ever-changing history. The most formative and consistent element of her origin, however, is that she was born to a Romani mother, and raised by a migrant, working class Romani family who faced racial discrimination and violent hate crimes. For context, the Romani people are a South Asian diaspora who are racialized in European society, and have endured systemic oppression ever since our arrival in the West, including an attempted genocide during the Nazi regime. Although Wanda is no stranger to taking a dark turn, the Decimation plot stands out as a uniquely damaging and harmful case of character asassination. You can imagine how the identity politics and acts of violence which were projected onto the character are offensive given her personal history, and the real-life history that she represents. For years, the vitriol and anger that were directed towards Wanda within this narrative, boosted by blatantly ableist tropes, shaped the way that readers and writers alike perceived her. That negative perception encouraged audiences to espouse hateful sentiments about Wanda without forming clear thoughts about their racist implications, or making any effort to better their understanding of Romani people and our needs regarding popular culture. The current era of X-Men comics has revisited the Decimation several times, but I fear that

they have done nothing to counteract the harmful messaging that was attached to Wanda during that time, and have only doubled down on her troubling political position in the mutant world. I shouldn't have to explain this, but characterizing a Romani woman as an interloper, and a bogeyman figure that Krakoans invoke to engender nationalism, directly parallels the racist propaganda that is used to subjugate real-life Romani people throughout Europe. Year after year, Roma communities face forced eviction, deportation, and property laws designed to weed out migrant travellers, while our lives are often endangered by violent hate. Earlier this month, on 19 June, 2021, a Romani man in Teplice, Czech Republic, was murdered in an act of police brutality, and the Czech state has refused to launch an investigation or deliver any sort of justice on behalf of his family. We have spent the last two weeks protesting for Roma lives. To be honest, witnessing Roma death on-page, particularly in the heartbreaking scene where Wanda's own son discovers her body, triggered a lot of the distress and emotional trauma that I've been carrying since the Teplice incident. Of course, the timing of it couldn't be helped, but I fear that Williams will continue to exploit our trauma and our pain in her upcoming series, Trial of Magneto, which promises to revolve around Wanda's death and Magneto's reaction. Given Williams' history, and her choices in this most recent issue, I simply have no faith, only grave misgivings. Leah Williams is a white woman who continues to profit from the exploitation racial trauma and stereotyping, and Marvel cannot claim to be inclusive while enabling her behavior. As readers, we feel we must demand her removal from upcoming and future Marvel projects. We cannot in good conscience support and continue to give money to the X-Men franchise with such creators at the fore. In general, Marvel needs to take a good hard look at how it employs. This won't be a solution to the company's ingrained problems, but removing Leah Williams would be a constructive place to start.

[certain cues have been taken from other readers who have posted and shared their messages to the X-Men office. Please feel free to borrow and modify any aspect of this letter, barring, of course, the passages regarding my own identity. This message has been sent to officex@marvel.com]

[yikesharringrove]

We’re Us

A little commishy for my bxtch @thinger-strang.

Read on Ao3

This shit is SOFT

-

“Dustin, we all saw that fireball hit you,” Will said accusatorily, gesturing to the red bean bag on the ground at Dustin’s feet.

“Okay, first of all, you’re supposed to call a pause of play before using my real name,” Dustin said, all in one breath. “And second of all, the fireball only hit my lute, therefore I sustained no physical damage.” Dustin gestured to the cereal box that was taped to a jump rope, slung over his shoulder like it was a prized instrument.

“No, it didn’t. We all saw it hit your shoulder. You’d lose that arm at least, and take probably, like, fifty damage points.” Lucas pretended to aim a bow and arrow at Dustin while he spoke.

Dustin was getting dangerously close to huffy territory.

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll take the stupid damage points. Can we resume play yet?”

Everyone nodded, and they fell right back into battle.

It wasn’t often they took the game off the DnD board, but the weather was perfect, summer beginning to make itself known a little earlier than usual, giving them April days that were clear and perfect and made for the best LARP sessions known to Indiana.

Will aimed a fireball at Max, and launched it right as she darted out of the way. It sailed past her, missing her left hand by less than an inch, and she laughed wildly, raising her pool noodle sword and aiming blow after blow at him.

The bean bag hit the fence and went spiraling awkwardly into the small alley between the house and the old wooden fence

It was Will’s last fireball, and he hurried to retrieve any he could reach, dodging as best as he could around Max’s wild sword-wielding.

She tended to wallop them as hard as she could, somehow knocking the wind out of them with her soft excuse for a sword.

Will scrambled to pick up his bean bag from the overgrown grass and curling weeds, catching his breath quickly in the alley where he couldn’t be seen.

And then a sound drew his attention away from the battle.

It was a soft sound. He wouldn’t have heard it if the rest of the party had been so quietly focused on battling one another less than twenty feet away.

But he did hear it, and his head whipped around to find the source of it.

Steve and Billy.

Against the house.

Kissing.

It was like time stood still.

Like Will had been hit by one of Mage El’s freezing bombs.

Steve had Billy pushed up against the side of the house, their bodies pressed flush together.

Steve was clearly propping up Billy with his body, Billy’s mobility cane, the one he had let them cover in stickers, was laying forgotten on the ground.

Billy’s arms were wrapped around Steve’s shoulders, his hands curled in the fabric of Steve’s t-shirt. Steve had his arms wrapped around Billy’s waist, half holding him close, half not letting him fall without his cane.

They were kissing like they were trying to devour one another, and Will realized that the sound he had heard was a moan.

It wasn’t like seeing Lucas and Max kiss, or Mike or El, or even Nancy and Jonathan.

Seeing Billy and Steve,

Will knew he shouldn’t be seeing them.

He knew this was wrong, and people said two boys kissing was foul and bad.

But this didn’t look anything but, well, loving.

The way Steve was making sure Billy didn’t fall while they kissed, the way sometimes they would pull back and smile, their faces never moving more than a few inches away from one another.

One of Billy’s rough hands left its place clawed in Steve’s t-shirt, reaching forward to brush one thumb clumsily down his cheek.

They pulled back from one another, smiling stupidly, still staring into each other’s eyes.

Billy brushed his thumb down Steve’s cheek again, and Steve moved like he was nuzzling into the touch, turning his head to the right, pressing a kiss to Billy’s rough, scarred palm.

It made Will feel like he was floating in space with nothing keeping him down.

Steve pressed a kiss to Billy’s cheek, then his nose, then his other cheek, and Billy’s cheeks flushed and he giggled, a sound that was so foreign to Billy Hargrove it almost made Will rub his eyes to make sure he was seeing the right person.

And Billy smiled, so calmly and easily.

It made his whole face change. He looked like a completely different person.

And Will realized, he’s never actually seen Billy smile like this.

The only times he’d come close, we tight tiny things that never reached his eyes and were dropped within a second or two.

This was a genuine smile, full of genuine happiness, and god -

They’re in love.

They’re two boys, and they’re standing right in front of Will and they’re in love.

They went back to kissing, moving their heads slowly side to side, their mouths opening and closing and Will was so aware of having never kissed anyone before.

“Will, seriously! I’ve been yelling for you-”

Mike stopped talking the second he rounded the house.

He was stalk still, his mouth hanging open like a dead fish at what he saw.

Will’s heart was thundering against his ribcage, and he tried to push Mike back towards the game, pleading quietly at him to move.

And then the rest of the group was joining them. Faces mirroring Mike’s dead fish expression as they stared, open-mouthed, at Steve and Billy.

Will had his back to them, but in the quiet, he could hear. He could hear the soft sounds and the moans, and even the giggles that made his face go hot and his stomach do a whole gymnastics routine inside of him.

Will was staring at each of his friends in turn, pleading with them to just turn right around, and continue on with play as nothing had ever interrupted their battle.

Like they haven’t just stumbled on a huge and dangerous secret.

He went as far as to push Lucas, gently shoving him backward saying go! Go! Under his breath.

The last thing he needed was for Steve and Billy to notice them here. To realize what they had seen. What they know.

And then-

“What the fuck?”

Billy and Steve broke apart, looking towards the entrance of the alley, and seeing all six of the party, staring at them.

Max had been the one to speak, and she was looking at Billy oddly, almost like she didn’t know who he was.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked, her voice quavering slightly.

Billy looked like he wanted to ground to swallow him right up.

Steve scrambled for the forgotten cane, keeping one hand on Billy’s elbow as he crouched down.

The movement made Will’s stomach flop over.

It was practiced.

Once Billy was standing on his own with the cane, Steve approached the kids calmly, his hands raised up like they were all wild animals that might attack at any moment.

“Look, I know how this looks, and you guys can’t-”

“It looks like, you guys were making out .” Dustin’s tone was hollow, and he looked as struck dumb as the rest of them.

“I know, and I mean, yeah. We were, but you need to listen -”

“Steve.”

Steve whipped right around when he heard the murmur.

Billy was standing slumped over against the house, one scarred, shaking hand covering his face, the other clutched so tightly to his cane his knuckles were white.

“Bill, I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You’re okay.” Steve rushed to Billy’s side, holding onto his elbow again, brushing his fingers softly through Billy’s short hair, winding his fingers through the wild curls that were just long enough to form. “I’ll deal with this. It’s okay. They’re not going to tell.” Steve glared at the kids when he said that, as if daring them to argue.

Billy kinda, fell forward, leaning against Steve once again, his face going into Steve’s neck.

Steve didn’t react, still brushing his fingers through sandy blond curls.

“You all know what could happen to us if people found out?”

Nobody answered him.

Truth is, they did know.

They knew the stories about young men being beaten nearly to death. Being run out of town or put in the hospital over nothing but a rumor.

Being gay wasn’t something that was tolerated in Hawkins.

Hell, Will himself has been pushed around and called queer as long as he could remember.

Even by his own father.

“We won’t tell anyone.” Will felt like how Billy looked. Like he was shaking apart right in front of them. “I promise. We won’t. Not anyone.” He could barely get the words out. It was like his jaw had locked up with the rest of his bones.

He thinks it would kill him if anything happened to Billy and Steve over this. They needed to keep them safe.

He needed to keep them safe.

“Yeah. I promise,” El parroted. Steve beamed at them.

Will knew El had been very confused the first time she heard about Ryan Anderson, the high school sophomore that had been humiliated and beaten so badly his family had to leave town six years ago.

She didn’t understand how a boy that liked to kiss other boys was something that merited violence.

Hopper had surprised them all by saying that it didn’t, but some people felt like it did.

Who you kiss doesn’t matter as much as who you are. If you’re a good person, it’s all just extra fodder. But some people like to they’re better than anyone that’s different than they are.

El had called those people bad and that was the end of it.

“Billy, I won’t tell.” Max didn’t take her eyes off Billy while she spoke. “I swear. I’ll never tell anyone. Not even mom.”

Billy’s hand flexed on the handle of the cane, and his knees gave a wobble. Steve kept him upright, leaning over to murmur into his ear.

Will could just barely make out the words I’ve got you.

“I promise, too.” Dustin’s cereal box/lute was forgotten on the grass at his feet. “The party protects each other. It’s one of our laws.”

“Yeah, we stick together. This isn’t different.” Max gave Lucas a watery smile when he spoke up in turn.

Mike was quiet.

It was well-known how much he disliked both Steve and Billy.

All of the kids had some trouble trusting Billy after everything that had happened last summer. Billy didn’t seem to blame them. He kept to himself, even when he moved from his cold room in the military hospital into the Byers’ spare bedroom seven months ago, he was like a ghost moving through the house.

Only Steve could make him come out of his shell in those early days. Only Steve could make Billy join them for dinner and movie nights, take slow walks around the yard with his walker, and later with his cane. Only Steve could make Billy’s shoulders relax from their defensive position up around his ears, and now, it was finally dawning on everyone why.

The kids mostly left him alone, only Max and El bridging the gap and actually speaking to him. Max had been determined to see Billy through his recovery, glaring at him and watching like a ginger hawk while he did his physical therapy, practicing his grip and moving buttons from one bowl to another.

El would sometimes talk to Billy in a hushed voice. She would get him on his own and hush words like Papa and Mama and bad and Billy would have to retreat to his bedroom for slowly decreasing amounts of time.

Nobody but Joyce and Hopper knew what she saw in Billy’s head. They were just informed that he wouldn't be returning home after his two-month stint in the military hospital. Max hard clenched her jaw and nodded jerkily and nobody dared ask any further questions.

He and Will traded a lot of good mornings and tended to generally avoid eye contact when they came across one another in the house.

But none of them hated him, they were just a little weary.

Mike, on the other hand, had some unexplained vendetta against both Billy and Steve and Will found himself willing Mike to be kind in this moment. To not see this as some power over them, or something.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Dustin’s right. We protect each other.”

Steve gave them a smile that was so dazzling and bright, it almost gave off its own light.

His eyes were shining and he gave a watery laugh.

“They really meant it when they said children are the future.”

“Who said?” El asked him.

“I don’t know, actually. Just people, I guess.” Steve shrugged, jostling Billy who was still nestled in his shoulder. “Look, seriously guys, thank you. I can’t even imagine how I would’ve felt if-nevermind.” He cut himself off quickly, shaking his head. “It just means a lot. To both of us.” Steve smiled at them one last time, this time much softer and thoughtful. “You’re good kids.”

Nobody said anything else. They didn’t know what to say to Steve.

“I came back here to get my fireballs. I, uh, I got ‘em.”

Everyone looked back at Will, and, almost like they were coming out of a trance, began picking their makeshift weapons back off the grass, and chattering idly as they went back to the yard in order to continue their battle.

Will lingered for a second, looking over his shoulder at Steve and Billy, who were still wound together.

They were talking softly, and Will was pleased to see Billy lift his head back up, still looking pale and nervous, but smiling at Steve.

He leaned back down and planted a kiss on Steve’s neck, right above the edge of his t-shirt.

Will felt his face go hot, and tugged himself away, going back to the game.

It wasn’t until well after dinner, when everyone else had gone home, that they spoke about it again.

Will. Will! Do you copy? Over.

The static rasping of Mike’s voice through the walkie-talkie was coming from under Will’s bed where he had stashed it.

He quickly turned down the volume dial on the side before answering.

“Yeah, Mike. I copy. Over.”

“We need to talk about today,” Mike said through the walkie. “I mean, did you have any idea? Over.”

“No. I didn’t,” Will said, truthfully. Finding out had made a lot of things clunk into place, but that doesn’t mean Will knew. “Over.”

“It’s just, neither of them seem the type. You know? Over.”

Something about that statement didn’t sit too right with Will.

Before he could respond another voice crackled through the channel.

“This is gold leader joining the conversation to let Mike know he’s being a dick. Over.”

Will laughed. Trust Dustin to listen in on the conversation and come forward to defend Steve.

“Lucas, do you copy, too? Over.” Will waited a moment after he asked.

“Yeah, I copy. I wanted to hear what you all were saying first. I don’t really know what to think about all this. Over.”

“I don’t think there’s much to think about. Steve seems happy. Billy too, I guess. Over,” said Dustin.

Will’s heart swelled with a pride he didn’t quite understand at Dustin’s words.

Outside in the hall, the phone rang.

Will heard his mom scramble to pick it up, calling softly down the hall for Billy, and the unmistakable thumping of Billy and his cane coming to take the call.

He heard his mom scrape a chair over for him and retreat to her room, giving him some privacy.

“It’s just scary, you know? Like, something really bad could happen to them if anyone else found out.” Will thought for a second. “You think anyone else knows? Over.”

“Robin. She was making comments to Steve a few days ago about his secret relationship and I kept asking him about it until he punched me in the arm. She knows. Over.”

“I’m just confused,” Mike sighed down the line. “Steve dated my sister for like, a year. And Billy is always disgusting and flirting with my mom. Or at least, he would do that. You know, before. Over.”

“Yeah, that’s just Billy being Billy,” Max chimed in.

“You have to say over when you’re finished. Over.”

“ Fine, dickheads. Over.”

“That makes sense, but Steve and Nancy doesn’t. Over.”

“Lucas, it doesn’t have to make sense. David Bowie says he likes guys and girls. Billy has, like, three different magazines where he says that. Over.”

“Max is right. We don’t have to understand any of this. They seem happy, and good together, and that doesn’t really concern us. Over.” Will was hoping he could speed through the rest of this conversation. He could hear Billy in the hall, shifting and murmuring something Will couldn’t make out but was dying to overhear.

He had a feeling he knew who was calling.

“But, now it does concern us. We know. And as we’ve previously established, the more people that know, the more danger they could be in. Over .” Dustin almost sounded as though he might cry.

“Then, we can’t talk about it. Not unless we know for a fact that we aren’t going to be overheard. And maybe we should give them codenames. Only call them something like Han and Leia when there’s a chance of someone listening in. Over.”

“I like Lucas’s codename idea, but I’d rather die than call them Han and Leia. Over.”

“Okay, Mike, it was the first thing that came into my head! What, you think you have a better idea? Over.”

“I don’t know. Harold and Maude? Over.”

“That’s stupid, Mike. Clearly, they’re Bert and Ernie. Over.”

Will snorted at Max’s suggestion. He heard Billy coughing wildly in the hall. He listened carefully to him until it died down and he knew it wasn’t a bad one.

“I think we’ve come to an agreement. If we need further discussion, codenames: Bert and Ernie. Okay, my mom wants me to spend time with her tonight. So this is gold leader, signing off. Over and out.”

“I’m going too. Over and out,” Mike said.

“Over and out,” said El, not surprising any of them that she was listening in. She did that a lot. Simply listen to her own walkie, and when asked why she didn’t say anything would shrug and go nothing to add. They only asked that she sign off so that they knew she got whatever information they had discussed.

Everyone followed with their own sign-offs, and Will twisted the top knob on his walkie, shutting it off.

There was a moment of silence out in the hall, and then three beats on Will’s door.

He found Billy on the other side, slumped in the chair under the phone, his cheeks going red.

“Can’t get up,” he grunted. “Can’t reach the hook.”

Will didn’t say anything, nodding quickly and avoiding eye contact as he took the phone, placing it carefully back on the hook.

Billy got stuck in chairs fairly often.

His core muscles had been slashed up worse than anything else, and sometimes he just needed a good pull up.

Will took hold of his wrist, leaning his body weight backward to yank Billy to standing.

Billy kept his weight heavily on his cane, patting Will once on the upper arm in thanks.

“You guys know Steve has one of your little walkie-talkies, right?”

“ What ?”

Will genuinely didn’t know that.

“Dustin gave him one. I don’t know when, but he’s got it.”

“So, uh, so he heard. Everything.”

“And relayed it all to me through an embarrassing amount of tears, by the sounds of it.”

But Will could see that Billy’s eyes were brighter than usual in the dark, and suddenly Will remembered that there had been a wet spot on Billy’s sleeve.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I mean, well, you’re good kids. All of you.” Billy patted him on the shoulder again. “I was shitting myself out there when you found us. Thought for sure one a’ yous would go squealing.”

“Maybe we would’ve. Before.”

“Never thought I’d be grateful for nearly being turned inside-out.”

“And I never thought I’d be grateful for being found dead in the water, but here we are.”

“Yeah, shit’s pretty weird if you stop and think about it for a few minutes. Near-death experiences really put your sexuality in perspective.”

“Is that why you two started dating? Perspective?”

Billy huffed a breath, looking up towards the ceiling. He coughed twice, and Will could pretty much hear his lungs rattle and crackle.

“Yeah. ‘S why we started dating. Both of us kinda realized there’s no sense in feeling like shit about the things that can actually make you feel not like shit.”

“So, you’re in love? Both of you?”

Billy’s cheeks were flooded with color, the deep red spreading all the way back to the tips of his ears.

“I think so. We’re both a little too fucked in the head to say it, but,” he shrugged lamely, not bothering to finish his thought, and looking anywhere but at Will.

He gets it, though.

Fucked up parents make for fucked up kids.

Will considered himself the luckiest person on Earth, and any kinda parallel universe, that he had his mom to stop, and later heal, all the damage his dad had caused.

“Well, I’m glad that you have it. Both of you. I mean, we saw you guys. And after everything, it's good that you’re happy.” And Will meant it.

Even before last summer, he had never seen Billy look the way he did when he was kissing Steve. Look that calm, and relaxed, and that goddamn happy. It really meant something.

Especially to Will.

Because he had never thought of someone looking that happy when they kissed someone else.

He had never thought of a boy looking that happy when he kissed another boy.

Billy surveyed Will for a moment, still leaning heavily on his cane in the hallway.

Will had the suspicion that Billy could see right through him.

“He came to visit me a lot when I was in the hospital. Steve, I mean. I don’t know why he did. It’s not like we were friends or anything. But one of those days, when I was barely awake he started talking about everything that happened those couple days.” Billy shifted closer to the wall, bracing himself with one hand as he lowered himself back into the chair. “The Russians. I don’t know what he’s told you kids, but it wasn’t pretty.”

“He hasn’t said anything. I mean, we all saw how he looked after, so we figured maybe he got in a fight.”

Billy chewed on his bottom lip.

“Look, you gotta swear not to tell any of the others this, but, uh, it was a bit more than a fight.”

Billy was giving him a meaningful look and something churned around in Will’s stomach.

“Torture?”

Billy gave a tiny, shaky nod.

“He started talking about it. Said after that, he started thinkin’ about shit different. Said he thought he was gonna die down there and that nothing would change without him. It was heavy, and I was mostly feeling the same way, and I think that’s why he told me. Knew that I could get it. After that he kept visiting, and I noticed that I didn’t hurt as much when he was there. Or maybe I did, but having him there, squinting at the t.v. ‘cause he can’t see worth a’ shit, or making some stupid comment about a nurse on the floor just made it easier. He makes a lotta shit easier.”

“I think that’s what it should be like. I don’t think love should make things harder.” Will thought of his mom and dad, and how different she acted with Hopper.

Like she didn’t hurt as much when he was there.

“It was hard in the beginning. I mean, before we got together. I thought that he didn’t feel the same way, you know? That I was just being an idiot, feeling like that for my best friend. But then he told me. He’s always been a lot braver than people give him credit for. Anyway, he told me, and it should’ve been fucking terrifying. And I was scared of people finding out. Still am, but it’s like, even if we get run outta town, and everyone we care about turns against us, it’ll be fine because we’re not just me an’ him, we’re us .”

Billy blinked quickly, almost as if he was surprised by his own words.

They clanged around in Will’s head.

We’re not just me an’ him, we’re us.

“You don’t have to be scared, though. I mean, of people finding out. Of turning against you both. We won’t let that happen. Not about something like this.”

Billy gave him a weak smile.

“I guess it makes sense. I mean, you all took me in after killing half the town. Tracks that you wouldn’t throw me out for. Being gay.”

“There are worse things to be than gay.”

“Psycho killer not one of them?”

Will gave Billy as unimpressed of a stare as he could muster.

“That wasn’t you. You forget, I know what it was like to have him controlling me. I know what it’s like to not do anything to stop him, even when you are fighting with everything you’ve got. I nearly killed my mom. I even might have, if I’d been stronger. You fought against him, and in the end, you won. I never could’ve done that.”

Billy just stared at the wall slightly above Will’s left shoulder.

“I killed people, too. When he had me. Led a whole group of people right into a trap. And it still scares me what he did. But I know that it wasn’t me that did it. It wasn’t you that did any of that, Billy.”

“I tell myself that. Hell, Steve tells me that about every five minutes. Just hard to watch yourself doing that awful shit and not be able to tell your body to knock it off.”

Will didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t.

Billy was right. It was a nightmare watching yourself hurt people around you, feeling like you were in the backseat, screaming at yourself to stop.

But Billy had done what Will couldn’t’ve.

Right at that last moment, he stood up to the thing controlling his every move.

Stood up to that horrific flesh monster, adn died rather than let it kill El.

El, who he didn’t even know.

And then Billy’s bedroom door down the hall opened slowly, and Steve poked his head into the hall, swearing under his breath when he saw someone in the hall with Billy and trying to duck out of sight, knocking the back of his head into the doorframe and swearing again.

Billy laughed, a low wheezy laugh that ended in a short coughing fit.

“Real fuckin’ subtle, Harrington,” he choked out.

The door opened once more and Steve stepped out into the hallway, trying to look casual.

“I didn’t realize it was you there, Will. How’s it goin’?”

Billy laughed again, and gestured for Steve to come and help him stand up.

Steve did so quickly, smiling warmly at Billy when he had righted him on his feet, and keeping hold of Billy’s arm.

“Why are you sneakin’ in my window like some kinda perv?”

“Because I wanted to talk. I have a lot of emotions today.” Steve turned to address Will. “You kids are gonna be the death of me. And I mean that in the nicest way I possibly can.”

“Yeah, well. You guys are family.” Will shrugged, feeling very awkward when both Steve and Billy. Looked as though their eyes were overbright. Will panicked, trying to think of an exit strategy before he saw either of them cry.

He had seen them both in too many intimate moments today.

“Um, I’m pretty tired, so I think I’m gonna go to bed. Let me know if you need, uh, help tomorrow. You know, heading of my mom or anything.”

Will turned on his heel and slipped back into his own bedroom.

“Alright, Bert. It’s been a long day and I’m gonna need some help getting into bed. My legs have gone totally stiff.”

“Oh, in no way am I Bert! I’m totally Ernie. You’re Bert. Think about it: you’re surly, and rude, and-”

“Gonna dump you if you don’t shut up and help me go to bed.”

“Spoken like a true Bert.”