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itgetsbetterproject · 8 months

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Advice for LGBTQ+ students going back to school this year:

We asked our community what advice they would give LGBTQ+ students going back to school this fall and they ANSWERED and now we are cryinggg:

🍎 Nothing gets better in a vacuum. It gets better because of the experience you gain, the relationships you build, and the tireless effort of people you may never come to know. Why? Because you are worth it, sweetheart. We will love you with profound depth until and after you begin to love yourself. - Nick

✏️ Identify your safe people. I had a “safe person-safe place” sign on my school bus. Any student could approach me at anytime for any need and I’d have their back. This was especially true for my LGBTQ+ riders. I like to think I set the tone of inclusion for all my kids to follow. Once I declared the bus a safe space with no room for intolerance, the kids all felt free to be themselves. And they were all beautiful, wonderful people! -Lisa

🏳️‍🌈 I had someone in high school that NEVER talked to or associated with me. We ran into each other at a party a few weeks ago. I got hugged. I also got invited, with my husband of 22 years, to a party this weekend. It DOES get better. People grow up, learn things, and change. -Michael

🏳️‍⚧️ Just because it’s safe for some people to be “visibly out” doesn’t mean you HAVE to be. Do what makes YOU feel comfortable and SAFE. Being out and proud and loud is great, but you can still be proud without being obvious if that’s what you need to do. There’s not just one way to be, it doesn’t make you any less valid - Kaitlin

🍎 It is entirely up to you where and when and how to be out or not be out.

Find your people - other queer & trans kids, allies, teachers, school staff & love each other fiercely

Find those who will speak for you when you can’t speak up for yourself.

Find safe spaces & people outside of school, find spaces and people that allow you to be you.

Know that you have a whole community of queer and trans and non- binary folks cheering for you, supporting you & loving you. When no one else is, imagine us surrounding you. - Heather

✏️ Be bold, be brave, be unapologetically you. Embrace your authentic self, radiate your truth, and let the world witness the beauty of your existence. - Daniel

🏳️‍🌈 School is only one part of life - a relatively small and short part. Even if it feels enormous and all-consuming now. Make the most of it if you can. Just wait it out if you need to. It does not last forever. - Sera

🏳️‍⚧️ Remember that you are equal to every person. No one is superior to you. And, this segment of your life is far from permanent. Try to enjoy it, but realize that it will remain in the past as you advance into the future. You are in school for the primary reason of learning. Be a glutton for this learning, because what you learn is truly among the things that cannot be taken or stolen from you. Don't give up on your dreams, no matter how farfetched they may seem. I thought my dreams were lofty when I was in school. But I found that I had never aimed higher than I could easily go. There is a vast world of people who already love you, and I am surely one of them. - Marc

#it gets better #back to school #lgbtqia #lgbtq advice #queer advice #trans advice #lgbtq youth #queer youth #trans youth #middle school #high school #gsa #gsa club

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paperbackribs · 7 months

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The Gift (5a of 15) (Witch Steve AU)

previous: Chapter 4 Break the Illusion next: Chapter 5 You're Doing That On Purpose (Part B) Content: steddie fic, 1.4K words

Last chapter, Steve and Eddie came to an understanding and formed a deeper start to their friendship. This chapter, Eddie just wants to convince Steve about which film to watch on movie night and Robin's gonna mock Steve about the two of them flirting.

Chapter 5(a) You're Doing That on Purpose

“So, it’s a kid’s film,” Steve pushes the trolley down the aisle to the comedy section.

Eddie makes a sound like a whistling kettle and Steve bites down on a grin. Behind the counter, Robin ignores the both of them as she tries to plait three Twizzlers into a braid.

Despite school being out, Family Video is as empty on a Tuesday afternoon as it typically is, so no customers to judge her odd candy habits. The promo television silently plays Carey Grant's attempt to seduce Rosalind Russell in His Girl Friday while Robin unironically plays the Bangle's Manic Monday on their shared boombox. The tinny sound provides a lively chorus to the boys' bickering.

“It’s a cult classic of epic proportions. It’s not just some animated film, Stevie. It tells of the enduring friendship of Frodo and Sam, it’s the journey from the Shire and the almighty and devastating battle of the Balrog.”

“Right,” Steve snaps his fingers absently, “the Shire is burning.”

Eddie eyes him oddly, “You remember that?”

Steve shrugs, “It sounded cool when you said it. I mean, I didn’t know what you were going on about, like the Bolrag too.”

Eddie squints at him, “You’re doing that on purpose.”

Uh, oh, busted. Robin meets his eye from across the room, laughing silently. They have a running bet on how long he can mix up fantasy names in front of the kids before they call him on it and Eddie had busted him within weeks of knowing him.

Steve feigns innocence while he shelves Weird Science onto the fake walnut shelves, the polished lamination suiting the glossy covers of the VHS cases. “I don’t know what you mean. Tell me about the Shire.”

“No, no, no,” Eddie sways into Steve’s right side, tugging on a lock again. He’s almost used to it now. Regardless, Steve bats his hands away, replacing the shock of Eddie's fingers by smoothing his hair back into place.

“You, my friend, pay attention. You know exactly where the kids are at any moment of the day, you listen to little old ladies at the Indy bookstore—”

“She wasn’t old,” Robin calls out. She was hot, he can hear her add silently. He nods at her to acknowledge how right she is. Her fist pumps in answer, she was hot.

Steve had told Robin that Eddie was safe and since then they'd all had a conversation that essentially amounted to each of them nodding in agreement: they were three queers in backwater Hawkins and, damn, wish that they’d known each other sooner.

They'd had the talk in the evening quiet of the local park, the heat of the day faded to a gentle breeze that carried a hint of the earth underneath them.

While Steve and Robin kicked a ball around, Eddie had sat, nestled within the sturdy and gnarled roots of the massive fig tree at the centre of the grassy area, working at the lyrics of a song. Of which, he refused to share with Steve and Robin, only smiling mysteriously when prodded about it.

Despite the black of his cut-off jean shorts and the grotesque skull on his t-shirt, the soft curls of Eddie's hair and his pensive expression as he looked down at his notebook had given Steve the impression of an earth sprite. Delicate and easily startled, ready to disappear into the trunk of the fig tree, never to be seen again.

Once the two players had tired themselves out a little, Steve had sat them all down and led the conversation under the shade of the broad leaves above them. The green of it stretching like fingers of a reaching hand, cradling them within its protection.

Steve had been amused at how shocked Eddie was, a near replica of Robin's reaction to his same disclosure last year. But, what was the fluidity of Steve's sexuality in comparison to the liminality he lived in as a Witch? He liked boys and girls and all in between. So, what? He could also make Robin hover by a few inches in the air and that was far more fun to play around with.

The conversation may have been had, but Robin wasn’t about to loudly call out something so damning in public when anyone could walk through the store door at any moment in their small, judgemental lives.

“—and I know you’re getting those names wrong on purpose,” Eddie concludes confidently.

Steve crosses his arms, biceps bulging slightly under his sunflower yellow polo. “So what if I get Bolrag wrong? I don’t want to watch a kid’s movie.”

Robin hums. “Always the babysitter.” Steve points to her in appreciation.

“No kiddies, I promise.” Despite being the same height, Eddie looks up at Steve through his bangs while his dimple deepens charismatically, “Just us big kids. You’re in, right Buckley?”

“Oh yeah,” she smirks at Steve, “it’s actually pretty good. And Eddie says it’s that or Ben Hur.” She makes a face.

“Isn’t that a black and white,” asks Steve teasingly, knowing her preoccupation with older films.

“No, it's colour, but I also don’t want to watch a flick about the boiling animosity of half-naked men for over two hours. Come on, Steve, let’s watch the kid’s movie that’s just under two hours,” she finishes sarcastically.

Eddie’s lips quirk crookedly, “The bonds of men and Hobbits alike are the theme of the night.”

Steve blows out a breath, knowing when he’s defeated. By the widening smile on Eddie’s face, the other boy knows it too and Steve can’t help but smile in response.

He’s aware that it’s been hard for Eddie lately. Beating the rap doesn’t mean squat when Jason Carver and his goons still have it out for him. Though Hop had apparently reigned the parents in so hard that their evil little offspring may have actually listened. Steve suspects that Hop had also pulled off one of his patented 'drive arounds' with the teens, calmly explaining the consequences of their future actions and, in turn, scaring the shit out of them.

The kids had shared about Jason and his guys stirring up trouble at school, but it sounded like it was mostly name-calling at this point. Steve had made Dustin promise to tell him if it got worse, but Eddie hadn’t said anything yet.

Steve pauses to consider before cautiously asking, “And the bonds of Hellfire? Is that staying strong post…” Steve waves his hand in the air as if to convey all that happened over Spring Break, including being hunted down and having your friends threatened by Jason’s vigilante mob.

An easy smile spreads over Eddie’s face, his voice rising as if performing to a larger audience and hands spreading wide like he’s inviting them to step onto his stage. “Hellfire? We are as strong as any dogs of war. For while our bloodshed is confined to the realm of the sorcerous, we still are that happy few, we band of brothers.”

Steve’s not one hundred per cent on what Eddie’s referring to, but he does trust that they’re getting along okay. He doesn’t have that tightness around his eyes and lips he sometimes gets when uncomfortable or avoiding a touchy subject. “And Jason? Is he leaving you alone?”

Eddie blinks for a moment, his wide smile dipping before drawing it back firmly onto his face. “No problems there, Stevie. They can’t do anything and I’m not worried.”

Steve is though, thinking about that brief expression hinting at more. But, he wonders what he’s allowed to question. Or maybe, he is allowed to ask Eddie, who may nevertheless still choose not to privilege Steve with an insight into that busy mind of his.

“All right, then. Since your band of dogs are happy, let’s do the hobos.” He feels a flash of triumph as he hears Eddie’s bark of laughter at Steve continuing the bit. “My place, Friday.”

“Fantastic my lovely, dear liege,” Eddie affects a bow. “I’ll shall bring the brews. My Madam Buckley, farewell.” She sticks her middle finger up at his blown kiss. Eddie leaves, chuckling under his breath, the door’s bell ringing after him.

If you liked anything, please consider leaving a comment over on Ao3 :-) It would make my day!

Taglist

My taglist is always open, so let me know if you want to be added. Likewise, if you want to be removed, let me know. :) If I've missed you, definitely tell me because it's an accident!

@a-gae-af-racoon

@a-lovely-craziness

@aly-reads-alot

@bookworm0690

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@ellietheasexylibrarian

@everyrandomthing

@finntheehumaneater

@geekymagicalpotato

@goodolefashionedloverboi

@hallucinatedjosten

@ilikeititspretty

@just-a-tiny-void

@ledleaf

@littlewildflowerkitten

@lostonceandneverfound

@manda-panda-monium

@matchingbatbites

@mightbeasleep

@nburkhardt

@newtstabber

@obliosworld

@oliver-sykes

@platonicbesties4life

@probablyscreamingintothevoid

@rajumat

@scoops-stevie-archive

@spectrum-spectre

@swimmingbirdrunningrock

@tartarusknight

@whackyrach

@bestwifehaver

#witchsteve #steddie #platonic stobin #any unexplained references are detailed in chapter notes on Ao3 #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #paperbackribs writing

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jerzwriter · 17 days

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Six Times.... Part 1: Think About It

Series Summary: Casey and Jessica both knew how it felt to have their hearts broken. That's why they vowed to focus on themselves and becoming the best doctors they could be. Love had no place in their life right now... and then they met. This short series tells their story through six significant moments during their relationship.

Part 1 Summary: It's Newly Admitted Student's Day at the University of Pennsylvania's Perelman School of Medicine. Jessica Philips and her friend, Diego, are working the LGBTQPM+ (Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender Queer People in Medicine) table, with seemingly different goals. When Diego notices Jess's interest in a new student, she balks until she walks over.

Pairing: Casey MacTavish (F!MC) x Jessica Phillips (F!OC)

Words: Approx. 1200

Rating: Teen

A/N: This is a prequel to Open Heart and takes place during Casey's (F!MC) time attending Perelman Medical Center at the University of Pennsylvania. @choicesaprilchallenge24 (smiling/teasing) and @choicesprompts Spring Fling Event (Spring is a time of new beginnings, how appropriate...) Artwork in the banner is by the incredible @rosefuckinggenius.

Series Masterlist

About Casey || About Jessica || About Casey x Jessica Casey x Jessica Masterlist

The late afternoon sun beamed through the glass walls of the cavernous conference room, blinding anyone within its path. It had been a long day, and Diego couldn't take any more squinting. He reached under the makeshift table to grab his sunglasses from his backpack and set them firmly on the bridge of his nose. Feeling much better, he sat back in his metal folding chair, running a hand through his thick, black mane with a flourish. Beside him, a petite redhead with a smile that rivaled the brightness of the sun shook her head.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Jessica chuckled. “You can be so relaxed anywhere. Look at you! You’d think that folding chair was a comfy couch.”

He lowered his glasses momentarily to stare into his friend's warm brown eyes.

“Relaxation is a state of mind, love... not a piece of furniture.”

“And the sunglasses?” she teased. “Is that really the image we want to project for our organization? We're not a frat, you know."

“If someone comes over, I'll put them in my pocket. But the sun is blinding me, and, besides, it’s easier to check out the new recruits behind these shades.”

“And that is precisely the image we don't want to project! Diego, Newly Admitted Student's Day is not supposed to be speed dating.”

“I know that,” he smiled. "I run the speed dating event, remember?"

Her playful punch landed a little harder than expected, and Diego rubbed the sore spot with a grimace as he followed Jess’s path of vision.

“Sure,” he smirked. “I’m some sort of a deviant because I dare to say I'm assessing the new kids; meanwhile, you’ve been checking out that adorable blonde all afternoon.”

“Have not!” Jess insisted with another quick slap.

“Please,” Diego waved. “Your cheeks have turned red every time she walks by. Despite your accusations, I am not using this event to find the next lucky man in my life, but there's nothing wrong with taking note of who we want to get to know better. There's no harm in that.”

“Diego,” Jess sighed. "Stop it."

“I’m serious! This is a social event. Go... be social... say hello to her.”

“Why? There’s no point.”

“Really? And why is that, Jess.”

“Because I’m sick of chatting up women I'm interested in only to find out they are painfully straight. I’m exhausted, Di, and I’m not doing it anymore.”

Diego took his glasses to get a better look at their subject from across the room. Women may not have been his thing, but he could understand why Jess was interested. Her wavy blonde hair was pulled into a flirtatious ponytail. In her well-worn jeans, plain blue t-shirt, and barely a stitch of make-up on her face still, she effortlessly exuded approachability and radiance, a rare combination indeed.

Her conversation with the curmudgeonly Dr. Marks was apparently going well, too. The old buzzard almost seemed charmed, and when she flipped her head back in melodious laughter, Diego turned back to Jess, who was surreptitiously looking the young woman’s way.

“It’s hard for me to tell from all the way over here, but I’m not getting total straight vibes. I say it’s worth a shot.”

“NO!” Jess reiterated. “She hasn’t stopped by our table once all afternoon. That's screaming straight at me. Besides, even if she wasn’t, I...” Jess’s voice trailed as she heaved a heavy sigh.

“Even if she wasn’t, what?”

“Ammarah. Ammarah really did a number on me, Diego. I think I may just swear off women until I’m done with med school.”

Diego raised a brow at his friend, “You really want to give her that much power over you?”

“Diego, it’s just that....”

"Just nothing!" He stated. "That was last year, Jess... and it's spring, the perfect time for new beginnings!"

“Hi!” An overly cheerful voice interrupted. “I’ve been dying to come over here all afternoon, but there were so many tables to visit. I figured I’d save the best for last.”

“Well, hello!” Diego beamed smugly while slipping his sunglasses into his pocket. “And welcome to Perelman! More importantly, welcome to our table. I agree with you, it’s the best one here! Are you familiar with LGBTQPM+?”

“I am,” the perky blonde nodded. “I’m coming from NYU and worked at the LGBTQ+ Center there. I’ve heard great things about your org and Perelman as a whole. That’s why it was my first choice.”

“Well, you made the right choice,” Diego smiled. “Penn Medicine’s dedication to providing the LGBTQ+ population with culturally competent and compassionate healthcare is unrivaled, in my opinion.” He turned to Jessica with a twinkle in his eye. “This is my classmate, Jess. Jess, do you care to elaborate?”

“Uh... sure,” Jess stuttered, nervously shuffling papers in her hands. “We were, uhm, recently declared a leader in LGBT Healthcare Equality by the HRC. We’re very proud of that, and... uhm, you know, it's... uh...”

Jess thought she had hit a stride, but once she caught a glimpse of the new student’s crystal blue eyes, all progress was lost. But Jessica was determined, this was not the first impression she was going to make. Taking a cleansing breath, she smiled and looked directly into the eyes that were making her weak and continued.

“... we’re very proud; it’s a testament to the university and hospital’s commitment. And it's not stagnant; they are constantly conversing with us to see where improvements can be made. So, by being a part of LGBTQPM+, you will be helping to shape the future of healthcare.”

“Well, that’s quite a sales pitch,” the new student grinned, extending her hand to Jess. “By the way, I’m Casey.”

“Oh, and I’m...”

“She’s Jess,” Diego jumped in.

“Yeah,” Casey giggled. “That’s what her name tag says. Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Jess, and you too,” she squinted to read the tag on his chest. “Diego. I’m going to take this literature, but I’m sure I will be seeing you around.”

“Definitely,” Jess barked out far too quickly. “I mean, we have meetings every other Tuesday at seven. I hope you'll pass by."

Casey glanced at Jess, a gentle blush on her cheeks.

“You can count on it,” Casey winked. "Turning to "Diego," she extended her hand. “It was very nice meeting you, too.”

“Likewise,” he nodded. “I look forward to working with you. I think you can do great things here.”

Jess fought every visceral desire in her being and didn't watch Casey as she walked away. Opting to begin packing up their materials instead. She knew it was futile, but hoped it would help her evade any further conversation with Diego... but she knew better.

“So," he smirked, slipping his sunglasses back on. "Definitely not straight."

“We don’t know that. I don't recall her telling us how she identifies, did she?"

“No, she just works at the LGBTQ Center at NYU and is eager to join us in our work. That just screams straight to me.”

Jess looked up with exasperation. “Diego, do I have to smack you again?”

“Not unless you want me to file charges. I'm getting sick of your shit. So," he asked, more genuinely. "Are you going to try to get to know the lovely Casey?"

“I guess,” Jess shrugged. “We're going to be classmates, after all... and it looks like she wants to join our org, so....”

“You know what I mean. Personally, I think I saw sparks there."

Jess wanted to deny it with all her heart, but she didn’t like to lie. How could she say there wasn't a spark when she felt the butterflies in her stomach awakening from their long slumber? Her heart, which had firmly adhered to the cease-and-desist order Jess placed on it, quickly took note.

“I’m not doing it again, Di. There’s plenty of time for love, romance, and all that other shit when I’m done with my residency. Until then, it’s all work and no play for me.”

“If you say so,” he frowned.

“And speaking of work, here,” she tossed a tape gun his way. “Start sealing the boxes. This event is officially over.”

“Hmmm,” Diego pondered. “Funny you should say that because it feels like they're just starting to me."

~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading! I will be tagging others separately.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#open heart #open heart choices #choices open heart #open heart fanfic #casey mactavish #f!mc x f!oc #casey x jessica #casey x jess #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #choices stories you play #choices fanfic

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metalandmagi · 2 months

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Someone: so how are you?

Me: The reason why High School Musical The Musical The Series works so well is because at the end of the day, it took the correct but surface level message of the original movies (that theater is for everyone, even jocks and math nerds), and added a sense of depth to it that reflects reality better than pretty much any other theater focused show or movie I've ever seen.

When I say that, I mean that shows or movies that involve a drama club or theater in general will take the message of "theater is for everyone" and really only apply it to queer (and sometimes only queer coded) outcasts. And yeah, it's true that theater is for the queer outcasts. I'm saying this as a queer person who loves theater! Theater is a major safe space for all the queer people who were picked last in dodgeball, and that will never change. But some things (*cough* the Theater Camp movie *cough*) will take that idea and project their message as "yeah, theater is for everyone" but they really only mean those types of people. HSMTMTS, on the other hand, understands that theater is not just for the queer outcasts, but for everyone.

Yes, there are queer kids in the East High Drama Club (who have significant arcs and get to be more than just stereotypes). There are also straight kids in the club (who also get full character arcs and get to be more than the butt of the joke in a theater environment). They are able to co-exist. There are certified skater bois who start off only caring about themselves. There are water polo players with six packs who have also been into theater for years. There are shy kids who don't think they can handle being on stage and then really come into their own by the end of the series. There are kids with anxiety. There are outgoing kids who want to be the center of attention. There are kids who have been kicked out of school for their attitude problems and kids who have never been in one place long enough to get attached to people. There is never a joke made about the straight, good looking, social butterflies not belonging in the club, because Miss Jenn truly understands the message that THEATER IS FOR EVERYONE, not just the Sharpays and Ryans. In this essay, I will-

#high school musical the musical the series #hsmtmts #rant in the tags ahead #i feel like some people will be mad at me for saying this...#but this aspect of Theater Camp bugged the shit out of me #i get that it was supposed to be funny and yes I loved the movie overall and yeah it's funny how the kid came out as straight to his dads #but don't say “yeah theater is for everyone” and then have Ben Platt tell someone who is doing his best that this place isn't for him #not without rectifying it in the end at least #maybe that part of the movie was satire but they never address it again in the end so I have to wonder if they really meant it

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bengiyo · 1 year

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Moonlight Chicken Ep 7 Stray Thoughts

So stoked about the final episodes of this incredible ride.

Last time, all of the adults got closure on their relationships, but only Jim felt good about it. However, Jim couldn't enjoy the moment before things immediately took a turn for the worse for him.

At Wen's encouragement, Jim finally went to see the woman Beam was dating. He realized that he was second, but the woman held no resentment towards him. She just thinks they loved a selfish person, and she's moved on with her life. Khaotung destroyed us with Gaipa's reaction to being formally rejected by Jim. First continues to be one of the best as he played out Alan's hatred for Jim. Li Ming and Heart had their first kiss and continue to be adorable. However, Jim was not enthused by their relationship, and Alan clearly tried to harm himself.

I wonder if the hand cast is from when First broke his finger during filming because he grabbed Earth too hard.

Again, the wealth gap appears. Alan has health insurance.

Wen is not happy about this new arrangement at all.

Chapter 7: My Heart Represents the Moon.

Alan going to stay with relatives, and not forcing Wen to take care of him, shows that he's maybe learning to not see them as a couple.

Oh, this beach date is cute. I'm going to have to go look up Somtum later to see what the regional distinctions are. I know in the US the fact that Midwesterners out sugar in grits is awful.

There are multiple layers of metaphor going on with eating this chicken. I'm caught up on Jim saying plain chicken is too bland and asking Wen to add some sauce. Isn't that what Wen has added to his life? And Wen says Jim isn't romantic.

Gosh, I love Gaipa and Mrs. Hong. He's clearly heartbroken, but she doesn't resent Jim for not loving her son back. She insists that their bonds as neighbors and friends are stronger than that, and is still willing to help him with the loan. She even still offers food to Jim.

Khaotung is incredible.

Au! What are you still doing here?? Oh, you're here to warn us about Jim's reaction to Heart and Li Ming dating.

Lookwa! I hope she plays Fourth's mom every time. That would be such a funny bit of casting trivia a decade from now.

Li Ming does not seem happy to see his mom at all.

Oh man, what has Li Ming witnessed of his mom's romantic history. He seems way too jaded about this conversation about a new man. Li Ming is being ground to dust by others' expectations of him.

And then Jim enters the scene. I really wish Jim would speak directly to Li Ming and stop trying to entrap him. I also get his concern about Li Ming facing the hardships of queerness, but wish he hadn't framed it through such a controlling lens. Also wish he hadn't loud capped his nephew, but don't think he realized his sister was here.

I'm glad they're having this conversation away from Li Ming because he would be furious. I don't want Li Ming going to live with someone who resents his queerness, and with a stranger he's already decided to dislike. Also don't like Jim getting financial help from one of Jam's tenuous romances.

I really like how Saleng has filled this role of older brother or cousin to Li Ming. He seems like kind of a fuckup, but Li Ming seems like he can talk to him. Frowning at him offering cigarettes to a kid though.

Wen sees Jim at the condo and immediately knows it's about Li Ming. I'm so relieved that Jim is finally talking about Li Ming with Wen. Wen can ask Jim directly about his anxieties and cut through the BS. Jim is gay, and as Li Ming's guardian, he needs to support his nephew.

There's the line about waiting for conservative dinosaurs to die again. We just had it in My School President.

Thank you, Wen! The kids have a right to tell us when they're ready. It's our job to love them. It's not our place to out the kids, especially to themselves.

As much as I like Jim responding to Wen's hinting that he won't chase him forever, j absolutely do not want them doing anything sexy in Alan's apartment.

"I don't want to be a good guy. I want to be a guy who has a lover." I love Gaipa so much.

Hate that we went from a long take of seeing Mark and Khaotung play off each other immediately into tragedy.

I am not immune to Khaotung's acting. I am crying and grieving for Gaipa.

49 is too young.

Not the version of First and Khaotung chemistry I wanted to see, but a funeral is a great way to reveal how interwoven our communities are.

When I tell you I cried again because Heart's parents have been learning sign language. It's not about villains, y'all. It's about trying to love each other the way we want to be loved.

See, and the flashback to Beam's funeral is so important. We've had BL shouting for marriage equality for over a year now, and here are some of the critical reasons why it's important. Part of why Jim is so destitute now is Beam's parents basically robbed him, and he had no protection to stop that. If you think Heart and Li Ming are cute and want to adopt them, then fight for their future. Help the older queers instead of judging them. We're all in this together, and we can't just let our elders suffer.

They really got Wen hustling for work at the funeral.

I like Jim going to see Alan. Alan also needs to appreciate some aspects of getting older as a queer person. He needs to reckon with the reality that Wen wasn't stolen, and that Wen didn't jump into a relationship with Jim, because Jim is also not ready. I also think Jim needed to make things clear with Alan before he could move forward because of what Jim went through with Beam.

And he's clearing things with Wen. Mike Frazier would love Jim.

Oh wow. Li Ming hasn't really seen his mom in almost 6 years. I get his reluctance.

This is the first conversation we've seen from these two not charged with their competing wills. I also had my first beer with one of my uncles. It's a rite of passage. You can feel the easy rapport returning now that they're not trying to fight.

Fourth is talented. It's honestly this simple with young people. Li Ming asked to be given chance to choose for himself, and immediately things have improved by showing him just a modicum of regard.

Funeral singing is always so heartbreaking.

Life is just not simple. Despite the rejection, Jim will care for Gaipa. Despite the breakup, Wen will help Alan. We are a community. We don't just abandon each other, even if our relationships change.

Finale tomorrow. Full faith that they stick the landing.

#moonlight chicken meta #moonlight chicken #thai bl #thai drama #bl series #Ben watches

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alexenglish · 4 months

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I remember a few years ago there was a conversation about young parenthood on your blog and I found it really refreshing, especially since it's hard to hear about queer parenting in the first place unless you're actively seeking those stories out. Feel free to ignore, but how did you ever find the courage to navigate life as a queer young parent in an increasingly cis-centric world, and, if I can ask, what have been some unexpected positives about it (or positives you didn't think would happen but happened). (Sorry this is so formal, lol, I don't know whats up with me)

honestly, i have such a strong set of beliefs that i am compelled to parent in a way that is authentic to those beliefs, how i experience the world, and my own identity so it's less about courage and more about me being insufferable and correct and knowing what matters lmao

i do have the immense privilege of an incredible support system. even if the outside world is telling my kiddo that unicorns are for girls and boys shouldn't be sensitive, everyone who has a hand in raising him has a lot of the same fundamentals to teach him from. they either completely understand where i'm coming from when it comes to teaching him certain things/allowing him to express himself in certain ways, firmly believe those things themselves, or are willing to try to understand when it's something important. not having to defend myself to those close to me goes a long way. we are undoubtedly safe and comfortable and, most importantly, consistent. i don't have anyone close to him undermining us and telling him he can't cry or can't wear his hair long or that there are only two genders.

the most unexpected positive for me is talking to other parents who want to do what i do but don't really have a blueprint for it. a lot of people raise their kids like they were raised and parrot a lot of stuff their parents said and don't even realize that it doesn't align with what they actually believe or the values they want to teach their kids! they're just adhering to a script and they don't know they can go off it and make a generational change. i love having casual conversations with parents where i can refute the script and make them kind of light up in epiphany. and it's funny because it's not like i know jack shit either! we're all just learning! but sometimes what i think is obvious isn't to them and when we talk about it, it shifts their perspective. it's fun to be the person that makes them think more deliberately about how they're parenting!

anyway idk parenting is SUPER weird and it's a little bit of a landmine because it's a very sensitive subject for a lot of people, but it's between your family and your little and that's the framework that matters most. the work you're putting in at home. what you believe. what they believe. encouraging them to draw their own conclusions. we've personally done a lot of 'if you like it, that's what matters' work in the last couple of years because the kids at school telling him boys shouldn't like unicorns and he shouldn't paint his nails and pink is stupid, and while we're working on how important it is to deconstruct misogynistic thinking, he also has to has the confidence in himself and his interests outside of what his peers think of them and it's my responsibility to give him that confidence.

uhm honestly i'm not sure if that was the answer you were looking for, but thanks for asking. i really love talking about parent shit.

#mic check #anonymoose #parent tag

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vicvinegarandhughhoney · 9 months

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thinking about jack being the first one most students come out to, and everybody else can't figure out why but it's literally just because he would be the only one in that town that wasn't weird about it and he's bi and trans but nobody knows that

how does it feel to be correct??

i feel like the ap bio classroom becomes a place where outsiders and queer kids gather at lunch because they know it's a safe place for them

and whenever a student realises they're gay or trans etc they just know they can confide in the kind-of-grumpy ap bio teacher, because once he realises why they've come to him his expression will soften and he'll invite them to sit down. he'll listen to them in a way that adults usually don't, and when they come out he won't furrow his brow or shake his head or tell them that 'maybe it's just a phase you'll grow out of'. instead he'll give them acceptance, and his school email scrawled on a post-it note for if they ever need to contact him about anything. he'll tell them that they'll always have a safe place in his classroom.

the transmasc kids who are already presenting as male know that if they need emergency period products they won't have to worry about outing themselves to teachers that might not understand. in the months after mr griffin arrives they talk amongst themselves, share the knowledge that maybe, just maybe, this gruff new guy might surprisingly be the one to help them, because the band of misfit students known as his ap bio class adore him. they're right, of course, and his classroom soon becomes the first port of call for panicked trans kids who desperately need supplies because he keeps a stash in the closet. when he's in the classroom, all they have to do is enter and he'll give them a nod and throw them the keys. when he's out, they know to look in the drawer, where they'll find the key and another post-it telling them to take whatever they need.

they also know that he's an expert at spotting somebody who's wearing a binder that's too small/tight for them. at first, before they knew he was safe, his knowing looks would set their hearts racing, but then he'd tilt his head in the direction of his classroom and gesture for them to follow him, and for some reason their gut told them to obey. they'd find themselves standing by the closet of the ap bio classroom while jack, rummaging through a box in it, tsk-ed and mother-hen-ed like they didn't know he could. don't hurt yourself, alright? if you need a new one, for the love of god come find me instead of suffering. look, here- try this one. there's a bathroom across the hall.

a lot of the time, he's on the receiving end of grateful hugs, often from kids who didn't think they'd find acceptance anywhere in toledo, ohio, and for whom the relief is so great that the walls they've built come crumbling down. outside of this circumstance (and of course whenever one of his students asks for one), jack usually isn't a hugger- he stiffens and rolls his eyes and just stands there waiting for it to be over. but really? the queer kids know he's the best hugger in toledo. he lets them break, because he knows exactly what they're going through, and because he's there to hold them together and rub their backs and tell them for the first time that it's okay. he knows that the fading of the adrenaline and the release of the burden that comes with being unknown will leave them shaking and exhausted, so he'll hold onto them until he decides its time to get them sat down, at which point he'll open the other drawer at his desk which now contains a variety of snacks. you want a snickers? mars bar? twix? because there's nothing he knows that helps a bad situation like chocolate.

most of all, though, he's there. someone to turn to for help, hug, ask advice, come out to, talk to.

and the first thing a queer kid tells another who's just come out to them?

"go see mr griffin. trust me."

#ap bio #this became way longer than i intended it to be i was just gonna be like 'yeah absolutely' but then everything else just happened #jack griffin #lgbt

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fuckyeahmarxismleninism · 6 months

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These rules have driven transgender kids and their families out of Florida, said 17-year-old Samira Burnside. The Tampa student attends school virtually, so she doesn’t have to worry about day-to-day access to bathrooms, but she’s seen the impact on those in her community.

“It’s created a culture of internalized fear within the queer community,” she said. “As people leave Florida, it only becomes a worse and worse place.”

Lindsey Spero, a nonbinary Floridian, is suing the state over HB 1521, alleging the law’s impact goes beyond bathrooms. Rather than leave Florida, they've decided to stay and fight for their community.

At a march for trans rights on Oct. 7 in Orlando, the 26-year-old called the law and Board of Education rules “an attack toward trans youth.”

“Schools and libraries are some of the only places that they have in this state to be able to access literature, education, even bathrooms — a space outside of their own home, outside of their own hostile environments,” Spero said.

Limited bathroom access prevents kids from enjoying other activities, too. For Samira, enjoying things like road trips is difficult — though she’s only 17, meaning she likely would not be charged with a misdemeanor if she used the women’s restroom, there’s a “chilling effect,” which she said has spread beyond just bathroom usage.

But Samira plans to stay in Florida and fight for transgender rights. Some of her friends are leaving.

“I’m seeing a lot of them drop their in-state dream colleges to leave the state so that they can be themselves, even though they wanted to grow into members of the Florida economy that benefit this place,” she said.

Spero, who escaped to Florida with the help of their friends from conversion therapy in Pennsylvania as a teen, still sees the good in what they call “the swamp.” Their love for the Sunshine State and its queer community drove them to get involved in the lawsuit.

#trans youth march #ProtectTransKids #Florida #bathroom ban #Ron DeSantis #transphobia #fascism #Orlando #protest #Samira Burnside #Lindsey Spero #TransRightsAreHumanRights

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inazuma-fulgur · 8 months

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In pain whenever someone insists that being naked around children, like in general, is bad

No cloths = pedo (this here is slightly exaggerated but some people actually say that. With words.)

Because nakes = sexual and sexual = bad and impure and children = pure and innocent and without agency

Waiting for the day where changing your childs diaper also becomes sexual and pedo unless *insert arbitrary metric*. If I had to imagine it'd probably be more terf shit, a la all men are horny monsters or only parents of the same SEX as the child should be allowed to.

I will nopt discuss further complications around childbirth because none of this makes sense anyway

I find it especially jarring when other queer people make arguments like that.

Like, y'all can't look at other people and be normal about it. It's not weird to be naked, you are weird for being unable to confront nudity without having secondary thoughts about it. You are the one uncomfortable with it so no one else is allowed to be comfortable with it?

Thinking about FKK (something I don't even know an english term for. Mom told me she and her parents often went to fkk places, because older people still found nudity more normal than we do I'd guess. Maybe they were an outlier but I can't shake the feeling that the younger people get the weirder and less tolerant they get of nudity and other peoples bodies.)

Every year when there's kink at pride discourse I can't help but think about how I wouldn't give two shits about people fucking in public, like it wouldn't be any more annoying that people blasting music and being loud, that's it. It definitely wouldn't smell as bad as some other stuff, like fireworks for example.

I also can't help but think about one of my friends from school who very amused told an anecdote where she went into her parents room while they were having sex when she was a little kid. Shocker, nothing happened to her. Plain seeing sex doesn't hurt, unless you already have been traumatized or smth. Also most of these super weird puritanical ideas only work under the assumption that children have the very same understanding of everything us adults do. Which they don't. How could they, they're learning everything about the world still. Explain it to them so that they can keep themselves safe, you'll have to do it regardless some day.

Go listen to what they're curious about, teach them at the pace they want, answer what they ask.

Because even if I say they don't have the same understanding of things us adults do, that doesn't mean children aren't smart and capable of understanding the bigger world, expanding their horizon.

People like that, in my opinion, just hate children.

Want to control them. Mold them into copies of themselves, perfect what they feel isn't perfect about themselves.

That's not how you treat another person, give kids agency and let them explore stuff. Let children be curious and nosy.

Teach them about consent, because consent isn't just sexual.

Teach them general things that are useful and good.

Teach them about their bodies and signs to look out for, built trust so that when they hit puberty and their needs and experiences change they will talk to you, ask and share what they feel and see. And then expand their horizons more

Please never raise children with preset ideas of how a well raised child has to turn out, with ideas of a fixed process with a fixed result, where certain things are off limits and shouldn't be allowed because they could lead to people growing up who don't fit your personal ideal(s).

Diversity of thought does not mean "diversity until I can't personally understand/relate anymore, beyond that it's evil". The only evil thing is you limiting the beauty and vastness of humanity

Children won't ever fit into your preconceived notions and that's a good thing, we're constantly learning and ideas are changing, and I'm not blaming you for growing older and having bigger more pressing worries and growing out of touch a bit, just don't denie others because of that.

The only way for children around you to be exactly like you is for them to grow up under the exact same conditions as you. But the world around you is changing constantly, even if you feel like YOU are a constant I assure you, you aren't.

Not even siblings or even even twins have that work out for them. Everyone makes different experiences, spends their time differently, cares about different shit. For better and for worse.

Embrace the potential for the worse, because it will lead to the better future you dream of.

If bad ideas are off limits and can't be talked about those ideas can't be challenged.

And if new ideas can't be brought forth nothing better can come into existence.

Yes new ideas will be not just good, there are bad ones. But that's why we discuss and make an effort, that's why we try things to see whether they work or fail.

We can't create the perfect world through logic in our heads and then execute it. Because humans aren't rational, logic is kinda fake even if it isn't, embrace that. Failure is human, failure leads to growth.

Many good things came from experimentation and theory but also from testing and trial and error, brute forcing stuff. Taking what works and optimizing it. Taking what didn't work and tweaking it slightly or taking notes on what has to be avoided in the future.

I love humans, I am human

I wish we would all stop dehumanizing each other constantly

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bylrlvr · 2 years

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malwarebytes saying "if byler wasn't gay, you wouldn't ship it" is not the take they think it is

because that's true for me, actually. i dont think i'd want byler to be canon, as much as i do now, if it were a straight ship. i think a lot of us here including me love the concept of byler not only because we think they have great chemistry and would make a cute pair, etc., but also because we see ourselves in mike and will.

some people here have been a queer kid in the 80's themselves and know what the feeling of that is like. a lot of us are queer people (many are still queer kids) who resonate with experiences like, for eg, will being bullied at school for being queer, feeling like he is left out in his 'straight' friend group or anywhere, growing up in a place and with a parent figure that wants him to be someone else, etc. and on the other hand, we understand why and how mike feels the need to push away the truth about himself and who he loves and hide under the safety of heterosexuality (that is, if we are right about mike being queer and has internalized homophobia). we resonate with a lot of those aspects, something that straight people can feel bad for but cant relate to on a personal level.

our personal stories and experiences are one of the influences that make us root for will to have a happy ending and get the person he loves, and for mike to overcome his inner fears and accept himself for who he is. because we've been there ourselves, have overcome some of these struggles and/or are still going through them. because how great would it be to get to witness such a possible groundbreaking queer representation on a show this big, with two main queer characters we wholeheartedly love and painfully relate to.

so yeah, if byler was a straight ship, it would lose that aspect, so i wouldnt be this desperate for it to be canon

and stop pretending like you wouldnt ship byler over expired overdue milk, if will were a girl instead

#byler #rant lol #plus i love jopper and lumax too lmao #its not like i hate microsoft word 2003 because its a straight ship #its just that the ship sucks imo. nothing personal

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mariacallous · 1 year

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This week, President Biden signed the Respect for Marriage Act into law—an important step toward advancing protections for same-sex marriages. But the legislation comes near the end of a year in which hundreds of anti-L.G.B.T.Q. bills were proposed across the country, queer literature was the target of bans in schools, protests and violence against drag shows rose, a queer night club in Colorado Springs was attacked, and at least thirty-four trans people were killed. As Bryan Washington writes in a new essay, in this “ghoulish year for queer folks,” spaces for gathering have become more essential than ever, serving as “focal points of connection and as portals for sharing information.” Reflecting on his time at gay bars everywhere from Houston to Bangkok throughout 2022, Washington offers snapshots of the connection, support, sadness, joy, and visibility he found in them. “And perhaps this is one function of queer spaces,” Washington writes. “To give what is deemed unworthy—by white supremacy, by stigma, by capitalism—its brightness, even if only for a few hours.” The essay is a wonderful reminder of the gift of having companions to help you process a year’s worth of heartbreaking lows and euphoric highs.

In January, near the queer bars lining Houston’s Montrose Boulevard, some white guy stood with a bullhorn. Wearing a button-down shirt under a tidy jacket, he screamed at foot traffic for hours. Sodomites wrought the end of civilization! We were all going to hell! Vaping on a patio across the street, I asked a buddy whether this was strange, and he confirmed that it was, before we flopped into Crocker to the tune of Toni Braxton.

A week later, around the same spot, a gaggle of folks stood with more microphones. They wore matching T-shirts, blasting fire-and-damnation into the humidity. From time to time, they’d flag down passersby to remind us of our pending eternity in flames. A handful of folks engaged with the homophobes while walking along the busted concrete, but few offered more than a brief, tired Girl.

At Ripcord, a bartender—a bearish ginger draped in leather—told me that the agitators had been more visible lately.

They’re feeling themselves, he said. But it’s fucking gross out there? They should drink some water instead.

Some porn played on the screen behind us. Patti LaBelle sang from the speakers. This was a perfect space, and I ordered more drinks to take to my friends on the patio.

All in all, 2022 has been a ghoulish year for queer folks in the United States. Lawmakers have proposed more than two hundred and fifty anti-L.G.B.T.Q. bills, more than a hundred and eighty of them directed at trans folks. Nearly half of book bannings this year have focussed on queer content. There have been more than a hundred and twenty threats, protests, and attacks against drag shows. At least thirty-four trans folks have been killed, and states across the country have revelled in targeting trans kids.

But queer spaces have been more essential than ever. They’ve served as focal points of connection and as portals for sharing information. Yet another year into the pandemic, they’ve been places to just enjoy others for a fucking minute. Or maybe play bingo. Or catch a drag show, or catch up with friends, or spin the wheel on a date. They’ve offered a way to spend time with people whom you can wear a little less armor around, who might actually be invested in your feeling O.K.

In February, I flew to Los Angeles to pretend to finish a novel, but mostly I ended up drowning myself in seolleongtang. The majority of the queer bars I haunted stood in Silver Lake, sporting a little less sheen than the WeHo circuit farther down Santa Monica Boulevard. One night, I passed through the Eagle, where a Latinx guy working at the hotel I’d been staying in flagged me down by the pool table.

He, too, was from Texas, but he’d recently relocated. He asked how things were back home, and I told him that they were suboptimal.

It’s sad, he said. Because there’s so much potential, you know? The numbers are there. My people are there. But what can you even do? Kids can’t even pull up the fucking Trevor Project at school, he added, referring to a district policy that prevents queer students from accessing resources including the suicide-prevention hotline.

We ordered another round of vodka sodas. A group of gays across the bar began to cheer for their friend, who had either just gotten married or divorced. Eventually, we joined in, too.

I thought of my new friend, in September, when a church just outside Houston hosted a drag bingo night as a fund-raiser for young trans folks, only to be descended upon by a group of neo-Nazis and Proud Boys. Protesters and counter-protesters clashed along a road leading to the house of worship. Local police formed a line on the median. Afterward, despite everything, a pastor at the church deemed the event a success.

At a queer bar that weekend, about thirty miles away, my boyfriend, L, and I watched the usual assortment of karaoke singers cross a stage. Spectating was our tiny ritual. (I can confidently sing only songs by BLACKPINK.) Some familiar faces were perched in their corners. We smiled and nodded and touched one another’s elbows and shoulders. Eventually, a straight couple took the stage. They announced that they’d just gotten engaged, and dedicated their performance to the queer folks in attendance, swearing that “it gets better” before immediately launching into Selena’s mournful “No Me Queda Más.”

Behind us, someone asked, What the fuck?

Back in L.A. a few weeks later, I was sitting with two friends on the curb of Akbar, a gay cocktail bar, when a car swerved toward our intersection. A white guy leaned out of his window, yelling, Go get fucked, faggots.

The car honked as it passed us, nearly running the light. The three of us continued to tap at our phones. Then one friend looked up, sighed, and said, Babe, I wish.

The next month, after the fabulous collapse of a years-long project, I was feeling a little frantic, and L suggested that we take advantage of remote work. We ended up in Bangkok for a month. Our hotel, in the Silom area, sat a short walk from the subway line. A slightly longer walk brought us to a strip of queer bars tucked down an alleyway, beside an all-night American-style diner whose tuna salad made me see God.

On our first night out, we met a bespectacled guy at a drag bar. He was a local engineer, and he’d recently come out. A month beforehand, Bangkok had celebrated its first Pride march in years—which was also his first Pride march ever. So we bought him a drink to celebrate, and when I asked how he liked the city’s queer scene he grinned. If you were just looking to cruise, he said, waving at some older white guys ogling a pair of twinks wrapped in Gucci, then the bars were great. But the pandemic hadn’t been kind to many of the city’s queer establishments.

A lot of folks just hang out at home, he said. Tourist life and local queerness are different.

Another club I frequented underlined this dynamic. Tucked away on the upper floor of a nearby shopping mall, it was basically a local bear bar. The vibe felt worlds away from the evening strip’s sheen. Its clientele lounged in beach chairs. The occasional expat sipped beer from a straw. A dubbed version of the third “Transformers” movie played on a tiny television by a Jacuzzi.

One guy I met came from Indonesia. He asked whether I was Thai-Muslim (I’m not), and, when I told him I lived in the States, he asked how many of them I’d visited. He’d spent the last two years in Jakarta by himself. But he wasn’t out to his family. Indonesia was a tough place to be queer, and Bangkok was a reprieve.

I can let my guard down, he said. I can’t even tell you what that’s like.

By the time we returned to Houston, mpox—the disease often called by the harmful name “monkeypox”—had been declared a global health emergency. The epidemic had spread throughout the country, while testing remained virtually impossible. One buddy picked it up from a hookup. Another’s partner had a brush with it after an orgy. The vaccine requirements were constantly shifting: you could possibly, maybe receive one, but only if you were deemed sufficiently high-risk, and then only if you were “a man who had sex with men,” a wildly inadequate qualifier. The most accurate information I received came not from the government but by way of gay bars, sex clubs, and other queer-forward spaces hastily fortifying informal networks.

L and I spent a long Tuesday on the phone, flailing for an available shot. Two weeks later, pulling up for our appointments, we found that we were the only non-white folks in line at a predominantly Black neighborhood’s community center in South Houston. As it turned out, the government had sat on hundreds of thousands of doses. In the following month, supply strains would exacerbate racial disparities in vaccine access and medical disenfranchisement among queer folks of color.

But, at the end of July, Beyoncé released “Renaissance.” I started the album in my car the morning after its release and simply never stopped playing it. That same weekend, ducking through Houston’s queer circuit, I heard a d.j. in a packed bar start one song from the record (“Heated”) before slipping into another (“Virgo’s Groove”) and then a third (“Pure/Honey”) as the room worked itself into a pulsing huff of steam. When I finally stepped outside for air, I was enfolded into a group of folks still running through the lyrics, clapping each other on our shoulders and backs, nearly tearful, deeply euphoric.

In August, realizing that I’d either have to finish my novel or simply walk into the Gulf of Mexico, I holed up in a Vancouver studio overlooking the downtown skyline. Most mornings, I ambled down to the Vietnamese diner stationed by the building’s garage, until the matron started heading instinctively toward the coffee machine whenever I squeezed through the door. One evening, I passed through a restaurant for katsu curry and noticed that an Indian guy was the only other person eating alone. We exchanged polite smiles. A few hours later, nursing a drink at a queer bar, I spotted the same guy.

He was visiting with his family. He’d been hoping for a fun vacation, but mpox had him wary. He said that he’d just graduated university. I congratulated him, and he asked whether he could have a hug. When I gave him one, I could feel his entire body relax. He said that he’d only recently started going to the bars by himself, because he wasn’t entirely out. I told him it wasn’t a race, and he laughed.

That’s what everyone keeps saying, he added. But first there was COVID? It feels like a raw deal, like it’s all one risk after another.

A few weeks later, back in the Bay Area, I stood vaping with some folks outside a queer bar when a gray S.U.V. settled beside us. Its driver unrolled the window, unstrapped himself from a seatbelt, and yelled that he was fine with a queer bar in his neighborhood, but that we needed to keep our fag shit in the building.

He asked whether we understood. Four other smokers and I blinked at one another. None of us said anything. There were too many uncertain variables. Finally, the oldest person standing among us, a bearded Filipino guy, said, Sure, honey, and the car rolled away.

We stood in silence for another beat, puffing away, a little rattled. Then another person, a Black individual in overalls, the smallest one among us, said, He looked like his breath fucking stank.

In November, sleepwalking toward a manuscript deadline, I visited Amsterdam. The city unfurled in a moody way, guided by canals and folks meandering on bikes along brick-laden roads. Every few streets, a rain-worn building sported the Progress Pride flag.

As far as I know there’s only one gay sauna in Amsterdam. On a weekday, it was hardly populated. I ended up sitting in a hot tub between two guys, one of whom said that he was from Spain, and in the way of queers everywhere we started in on our recent grievances. The Spanish guy said that he was living in London for work. This was the first trip he’d taken since relocating. He grew up in a small town, and adolescence had been tough on him. London had been an education, and now he was furthering it.

The other guy was white and younger than both of us. We’d taken him for a local. But when we asked where he was from, he said Kyiv, and the reality of his situation—the war across the continent—sent a chill through the water.

Holy fuck, we said.

It’s all right, the guy replied. I’d never been to a gay bar. I’ve never been to a place like this, he said. I’m trying new things— hoping for the best, you know?

We nodded. But how could we possibly know?

The week before Thanksgiving, L and I lounged on the patio of our local leather spot, because I’d just finished copy edits on my novel and it was time to celebrate. Then, starting at one end of Montrose, we careened from bar to bar. I managed to stay afloat until two in the morning. A crisp chill hung over the patios. Folks huddled together as they passed, cheering on strangers, imploring them to stay safe. A few hours later, we woke up to news of the Club Q shooting in Colorado Springs. A shooter had killed five people in the queer nightclub and wounded at least nineteen more.

It all felt like—and it all is—entirely too much. A country that prides itself on queer progressiveness on an international stage refuses to provide safety and human rights for its residents. This month, the Respect for Marriage Act has become law, but what is the privilege of marriage to communities without the baseline necessities, who face regular violence in their attempts to secure them?

On Thanksgiving evening, after making the rounds of our assorted found families, we made our way back to the queer bars, settling into JR.’s. The atmosphere was muted. Looks of recognition passed from patron to patron. But, as the evening progressed, the room turned more crowded—never packed, but lively—until it felt like being present for each other was a gift in itself.

On the karaoke stage, a drag queen lamented the shootings. She said that things were taking a turn for the worse. But then she asked whether anyone in the room had something for us to champion. One woman noted that she’d just left a ten-year marriage. Another guy spoke about his new gig. A couple announced that they’d opened up their relationship, drawing a scattering of cheers, because this, too, was touching: to see things normally rendered invisible allowed visibility within this shared space.

And perhaps this is one function of queer spaces: to give what is deemed unworthy—by white supremacy, by stigma, by capitalism—its brightness, even if only for a few hours. Flirting at the bar is holy. Biding time on a hookup app by the pool table is holy. A sleepy evening sipping lukewarm beer with found family is holy. Chatting with the muscle-cub bartender is holy. A midnight drag show on a week night is holy. Sucking dick in a dark room is holy, and so is waiting until you’ve gotten home, and so is opting out of the meat market entirely for a lazy pecan waffle with eggs at the all-you-can-eat diner once the bars have closed. Coming out incessantly is holy. Coming together is holy. A hastily organized orgy is holy. And mundanity is holy—perhaps even the holiest, because it is worth everything to insure that the most disenfranchised among us receive the same ordinary benefit of the doubt.

With the queen’s interlude over, karaoke began again. An older Black dude sang Luther Vandross. Some Latinx folks followed with Selena Gomez. A Black woman sang Jill Scott with her white friend. And then an Asian guy took the stage for an astoundingly beautiful rendition of “Rocket Man,” which felt like the appropriate note to depart on. We finished our beers and slipped out into the rain, taking care not to trip on the concrete. ♦

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oddlyhale · 1 year

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RWBY: The Show That's Tried To Explain Itself For Years

Lately, I have been into reading and writing again. I love reading books that are pretty fucking bad because, like bad movies, bad books are fun to read and collect. I've also been into watching other content creators review bad books and give their thoughts.

There's a term that I had never heard of before until a few days ago: "steam of conscious." What it means is "to depict the multitudinous thoughts and feelings which pass through the mind" of a narrator. Basically meaning the author is plugging in ideas that sound cool at the moment, and are forgotten about later because there are other random, cool ideas that the author keeps plugging in.

That's not inherently a bad method of writing. It's similar to "pantsing" a book, meaning "sitting down and writing by the seat of your pants," except it doesn't have to be left as is. You can plug in as many ideas as you want in your story, but you also have to remember to go back and do major editing to try and make these ideas flow and make sense to the story itself. Of course, that means you'll be cutting out a hunk of content that does nothing or makes no sense to the overall story. Unless you're an experienced chaotic writer, you'll be putting in a lot of work.

I like editing, and I like knowing that I am a pantser, so it feels like a good combination. Not a perfect one, but a workable one for me.

But it does make me wonder about RWBY overall, wondering now if the show was a stream of consciousness the whole time, except the writers can't go back to edit everything.

I wouldn't say RWBY is an unedited mess of consciousness. There's definitely editing here and there to make dialogue and scenes make sense, but the overall script is fucking nuts.

RWBY V1-V3 have their stream of consciousness where the writers had anime brain rot, plugging in cheesy tropes that other animes have to make RWBY fit neatly into that media. Oh look, kids with superpowers going to a superpower school to learn more about themselves. Oh, put in a tournament because other school animes have those. Oh, make the main cast have some personality tropes - like Weiss can be a cute tsundere, and Ruby can be the naive but brave heroine who is also likely the chosen one that will save Remnant.

Not saying these tropes are bad, but I don't think RWBY understood why those tropes were so fun in the first place after they blew it all up before V4 began.

This thought has been on my mind for a few days because oddly, it reminds me quite a lot of The Night and Its Moon. If you're not familiar with the book, it's a plagiarized Witcher story, but trying to be queer.

I say trying because the author failed miserably to make their sapphic main couple the main focus. Like, the back of the book promises an action-romance, but that feels like a lie. One of the women would rather be surrounded by her male harem while the other woman is wishing to find her long-lost lover.

But the author of The Night and its Moon admitted to writing the first book in an ongoing manic episode that lasted for a few days. She finished the entire thing in 10 days, self-published it and it was out in the world for her fans to check out. I don't mind if people take such a small amount of time to complete a book, but what I do care about is if the author cared enough to go back and edit everything.

As you can guess, TNAIM's author did little. She was fearful of criticism, saying this book is important to her identity as a bisexual and didn't want any negative feedback. As much as I understand where she's coming from, wanting to live in a bubble of nobody being allowed to criticize your book was where her book fell flat and fell miserably. The book turned out very problematic, not because of the queerness, but because of the weird white skin, white girl worship, and fetishization of the only dark-skinned woman who happens to be one of the main protagonists.

The book has so many plugs of cool moments that it never comes back to, moments between characters that seem to mean something but are actually never expanded upon ever again, the poor sapphic representation, and the racism.

Which is where it reminds me of RWBY.

The difference is that the entire story of The Night and its Moon was written by one person who refused critical feedback. RWBY has three-four writers that all share the same braincell and it still flops.

If you want to know more about the book, you can find out more about it by watching YT reviews made by Booktubers. It is a hot mess, that's what I'll leave you with.

YA novels have a hard time discussing heavy topics, yet they insist on tackling them. That's not a bad thing, but if you're going to do that, you can't just try tackling it while in a stream of consciousness. Many authors accidentally - or maybe not accidentally - come across as incoherent and offensive. Relying heavily on cheesy tropes to help build weak support but never do anything creative with it. Not being sensitive to topics that can be fumbled so badly that the audience may assume you're [a] problematic person(s).

I don't believe that CRWBY is working off a stream of consciousness after V3, however. That stream of cheesy anime material had dried out fast because they shoved almost all of them into the first three volumes. They published their metaphorical books and realized they made huge mistakes that they can't go back and fix, so they have to work with retconning or pretending those things totally didn't happen. Or perhaps acknowledge some of those ideas did happen but then quickly turn tail and run before explaining anything any further. Or, the worse thing, is to plug in a new idea that combats that old idea, but now they have to explain that new idea if it doesn't follow up in the next volumes.

A weird cycle of ideas that can or cannot be explained, and it feels like RWBY has become "the show that is trying to explain itself." Not a show about kids with superpowers trying to save the world.

Stream of consciousness and pantsing aren't inherently bad methods to write a story. I don't mind if you would even refer to yourself as a "chaotic but organized" creator. If you love the story, you'll put in that extra effort to make it cohesive to the general audience, or at least make it all flow together and make sense. But do not leave it in a messy heap that you need to justify in the next fucking book, and don't be mad when people point out the problematic things you wrote into the pages. The audience wasn't the one that put that context into the story. You as the writer did.

#rwde #pantsing writing #stream of consciousness #writing methods gone wrong

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aziraphales-library · 2 years

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Hi! I was wondering if you know any fics where in the focus is Azi, Crow, Adam and Warlock? Like a sort of found family fic between the 4 of them. It can be angsty or not. I just wanna know cuz Warlock is like EXTREMELY underrated and I feel bad for the poor child. XD Anyway, thank you!

Hello! You’ll want to check out our #kid fic tag for loads of Adam and Warlock content. And we also have a #warlock dowling tag! I’ve pulled together some of the fics from our tags with the four characters and a found family theme...

A Journey Into The Unknown (Which Shall Lead Us Ever Closer To Home) by BlackUnicorn (NR)

Anthony J. ‘just call me Crowley’ Crowley is…content – his little queer café in the heart of Soho, his son, his best friend, his snake.

Aziraphale is…existing – day in, day out, in the same job, with the same people, and the same half-forgotten dreams. Going through the motions.

Never would their paths have crossed if not for a boy, a teenager, really, running away to the city in search of something better.

That’s how it starts, anyway…

My Dearest Warlock by Sassyandsarcastic15 (T)

Biological family doesn't always mean everything. Biological family can hurt you, break you, mock you, or leave you. Blood doesn't always mean everything. True family isn't defined by blood, but rather by true love that can never be taken or forsaken.

Warlock Dowling was more than happy to receive the news that Nanny Ashtoreth and Brother Francis are willing to take him and raise him as their own. Although, he did receive a rather large shock upon learning the identity of his former nanny and gardener. But that doesn't really matter, all that matters is that Warlock has the family he always wanted.

With adventures that only God could have though up and romances that have been boiling for centuries, the small little town of Tadfield is in for an awakening that no one expected. And sometimes, the unplanned things are the best.

Chaos Theory by the_moonmoth (T) (series)

If an Antichrist flaps its wings in Tadfield, what does that mean for Warlock Dowling?

Adam put the world back together during the Apocalypse like a great big jigsaw puzzle, but something about Warlock never fit right. Eight years later, Adam thinks he's finally figured out how to fix it, but he should've known that humans are far too complex for simple solutions.

Going Overboard by Fyre (T)

When you do a job, you expect to get paid. What you don't expect is for things to go overboard.

Ineffable Overboard AU

It never hurts to keep looking for sunshine by elf_on_the_shelf (E)

After Adam's parents die in a car crash, Aziraphale is forced to start taking care of him as more than just an uncle. Don't get him wrong, he loves the little devil, it's just that he is completely clueless and could rather use some help.

In comes Crowley, Adam's new nursery school teacher with his amazing skills in dealing with kids. Could he be the answer to all of Aziraphale's prayers - Adam-related and otherwise?

Well, it looks like he might be just that, judging by the weird things Aziraphale's heart seems to be doing whenever he sets eyes on the man. Now, if only the tall ginger returned his feelings...

It Was Always You by mltrefry (T)

A chance encounter during one of the worst times of Ezra Fell’s life reunites him with his once best friend and the one who got away. Though, that would imply he ever had him in the first place.

Anthony Crowley and his son, Warlock, relocate to the quieter city of Tadfield from that of London. In the process, manages to find again that one person who always made him feel less alone, the one person he was pretty sure he was never going to speak to again.

But the road to true love never did run smooth (something that’s been true from their very beginning). Despite the easy way they fall back into each other, their lives don't seem to follow suit, and if it's not one challenge its another. But despite everything they find themselves facing down, the ten years without each other taught them one thing: they’re better together than they are apart.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #kid fic #warlock dowling #adam young #found family #mod d

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poetry-protest-pornography · 2 years

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So, about Nick and Charlie's shoes, Converse & Vans, fashion, and queerness.

Queer fashion and aesthetic is one of the ways that we've always been able to express ourselves, and also signal to other queer people "hey, I'm here, too!".

From dandies who wore specific flowers, to the hanky code, to the ever handy carabiner, there are certain items that tell other queer folks very clearly– and very discreetly – what you're about.

In general, queer fashion is about not conforming to standards and expectations, sometimes in big ways, sometimes in small, day to day ways: Girls in blazers, boys in soft, fuzzy oversized sweaters and tight jeans, and the like. Cuffed jeans also a very big deal, which I was delighted to learn about in college (I rolled my cuffs because I'm short, was very excited I was also telling people I was queer), though I'm less clear on the origins of that particular trend.

Shoes are obviously a big part of fashion, and they're no less important to queer aesthetics.

In college my second time, I was almost a decade older than some of my classmates, and a joke about lesbian shoes landed somewhere over the heads of the 3 other queer people I was talking with.

The shoes I was thinking of were of course black, chunky oxfords; think Doc Martens. The Lesbian Shoes of my time. But these kids didn't have to quietly dress-up to signal their queerness– they didn't understand.

I love that young queer people have less reason to code themselves, but there's no less reason for us all to dress for ourselves, to push boundaries of expectation and wear what makes us feel most comfortable in our own skin. And so, queer fashion thrives.

In regards to Vans and Converse, their place in queer fashion history is so well entrenched, that if you search "Converse Vans gay" you'll get result after result asking "are you a Vans gay/lesbian/bi or a Converse gay/lesbian/bi?" And then people inevitably asking "what about boot gays?".

Interestingly, a lot of queer fashion and culture comes from Black drag culture, but high top shoes are from a distinctly different group: West Coast skater boys.

My theory is that these boys, as a subculture, were also not held to fashion standards of their time/place, and that gave them the freedom to wear things like brightly colored shoes without any pushback.

And us queer folks saw all the pretty colors and thought "Oh, we can work with those!" Because they already existed and were widely available and relatively affordable, you could own multiple pairs in various colors, and subvert your school's sneaker dress code requirement by making it cute and brightly colored and queer! You could wear a simple outfit that wouldn't raise any eyebrows (or put you in danger), and top it off with colorful sneakers that only people who wanted to notice would notice.

Charlie has a whole closet full of different color Converse! That scene was so much! And Nick is steadfast in his black Vans– I would love to see him in a different color next season, though I don't remember if that's a thing in the comics. Vans are generally considered the tougher/more athletic shoe, and they're definitely sturdier than all-canvas Converse, and I love how that plays into their characters as well.

Alice did an incredible job in the comic with the fashion choices she made for Charlie and Nick, and the costume designer on the show did a stellar job translating it onto the screen, Charlie's clothing is very queer coded, even beyond the shoes, and for him is obvious that it's born out of a need for that comfort and finding that space for himself, which is exactly where queer aesthetics came from. That necessity to make yourself comfortable and safe– and then visible to others like you.

Anyway, this was a lot more than I thought I was going to get into, but it was fun to write!

(Honestly, I do find myself kind of shocked that we didn't reinvent the hanky code with skate shoes, though.)

@onefootintheboilinghotlava this is for you

#heartstopper #queer history #queer fashion #queer aesthetic

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