#ever been so gay pinterest exposed you for it?

[20thcenturyfoxx]

?

[majorbitchwillgraham]

Peculiar Feelings

Tristan and Galahad are unaware that their feelings are reciprocated, but it turns out well for them in the end :) A short story of cute gay knights. It is also on AO3 where I’m the same username

(I found this picture on pinterest but if anyone knows who did the manip/edit I will gladly give credit!) Manip by: haanigram

Galahad walked angrily away from the town's tavern, a big frown on his face and his fists clenched. Bors had made fun of him again and Lancelot had followed even more, it is not that he didn't like joking around or wasn't used to being surrounded by his drunk friends, it was mostly the subject that they had chosen to pick on him... underestimating him because of his age, again.

But another thing fueled his frustration, perhaps something he wouldn't like to admit though. He didn't have time to see if all of them were present when he was being made fun of, but the thought of a specific someone witnessing all that had certainly started to bother him, much to his dislike. Tristan. Why did it matter if he saw all that?, he asked himself, as if he didn't know the answer.

He was rushing past the stable when he heard:

"Tsk! Hey."

Recognizing the voice made him stop in his tracks, he turned to his left and there was Tristan. So he hadn't been present, good. He was arranging his battle armor, and apparently sharpening his sword, sitting next to the entrance.

"Hi," Galahad replied, trying not to be paralyzed by his fixed gaze.

"I can see something's bothering you?" Tristan offered, now looking down at his sword again. He had noticed the younger man's face, and could admit he was worried about him. Showing it, was another thing.

"Oh, what do you think?" Galahad complained, "they were saying again 'if he was only a couple years older he wouldn't have been so scared yesterday'".

Tristan frowned at him, simpathetically, and a second later his features softened again. He became thoughtful, looking at his sword again working out an answer. Galahad blinked at this, a familiar feeling on his stomach, because he liked it... he liked when his face did that.

"You know, a brave man is one who keeps going despite his fear. Maybe something they haven't noticed." Tristan then looked at him again, and Galahad had to remind himself to react because, he had just complimented him.

"Well thank you," Galahad nodded, then managed a smile and couldn't resist saying what he said next, "You recognize bravery because you are brave yourself."

This took Tristan by surprise, he looked up quickly, then raised an eyebrow with a small smile, revealing a bit of shyness. Galahad continued smiling at this, but soon started to feel nervous, as Tristan kept doing nothing but stare at him, and the younger man was disconcerted at how he couldn't think of anything else to say at the moment.

"I wanted to relax and sit next to the fire for a while before going to sleep, do you want to come?" Tristan asked confidently. Gods yes, Galahad thought.

"Yes, alright" he said that instead, trying to keep a casual attitude. Tristan nodded at him and led the way as they began to walk together.

"Yeah I suppose it won't be much fun going back while they are in that state, right?" Yes, this was definitely casual, Tristan thought to himself.

Much to Galahad's satisfaction, the place for the fire was outside town, making interruptions less likely, and the stars even brighter. They were both quiet as they sat down, Galahad didn't watch Tristan start up the fire, as he was lost in thought instead.

As much as he had wanted to deny his feelings for some time, the closer he was to Tristan, he noticed he cared less and less about hiding them. Here they were alone, like they had both secretly wanted for some time now. But what could be done about it? Tristan was content with the boy's presence finally close to him, although seeing the fire reflect on his thoughtful blue eyes filled his mind with countless possibilities, and ideas. And now they couldn't be ignored.

For a moment Galahad looked around towards the town, worried that their friends would notice their absence and start looking for them. But this moment was so peaceful that it didn't allow many worries to stay. They both looked at the night sky and the beautiful stars above them, then noticed the two of them were doing it; Galahad caught Tristan's look, who smiled briefly at him. Wow, that was like the first time he smiled in the entire week. Galahad smiled back calmly, then sighed and looked down as worrying thoughts arrived again.

"There are other things I'm not sure I'm so brave about"

"What's that, boy?" Tristan was genuinely interested, but Galahad didn't know how to even begin. What could he say?

"Tristan don't you ever get... peculiar feelings?" Like not wanting to ever get married. Not wanting marriage because that always meant, marrying a woman. This was a peculiar feeling indeed, in these times they were living. Who else could have these peculiar feelings?

"I'm not sure I know what you mean," Tristan fiddled with his hands. Of course he knew, but he didn't know that was what he was talking about.

Galahad let out a laugh partly in impatience and partly in frustration. Now this mattered, that Tristan could understand. Well, even if he wasn't getting it, at least this feeling of trust between them was pleasant and new.

Screw it, he was going to go for it or he wasn't. Tristan had just smiled for him and called him brave some moments ago, things couldn't go that wrong?

"Would it matter to you if I died in battle?" Galahad didn't even look at him when he asked it, it would have been distracting, but he also didn't see Tristan had made a brand new expression just for him again.

"Everyone would be deeply affected by seeing such a talented man die at this young age.."

"Would it matter to YOU, regardless of what age I was?..." Galahad pointed out almost exasperatedly.

Tristan was invaded by a profound silence, seconds passed and he seemed to be perplexed, looking at the fire as if he had just been paralized. Gods, what was he thinking. Galahad looked away. Why had he even asked. Now he had to apologize to the older man and pretty much beg him not to tell the other knights about this-- but as Galahad turned to look at him his heart nearly skipped a beat as he found Tristan now closer, their knees almost touching, and his face already turned towards him.

"Dear boy, it would." Tristan said, as he looked at him earnestly, cupped his face and leaned in to kiss him.

Galahad gasped when he felt the other man's lips on his, but to his surprise soon a different feeling started to invade him, a mixture of relief, happiness and strenght that filled him with confidence and incited him to be playful, and not anymore grumpy when facing any difficulty life threw at him. This felt very much like what Arthur had told him about that other day, "the glory after a won battle", something that in fact, had nothing to do with the previous day.

Galahad melted into the kiss and ran his hand along that hair he had wanted to touch so many times. He also never thought the feeling of another man's beard would feel so good. This might have been his imagination, but Tristan felt so soft. He deserved something..good. Galahad slid his tongue into the other man's mouth, and couldn't believe it when he shuddered, tensed and pulled away a little almost instinctively. Galahad laughed breathlessly and quietly, their foreheads pressed against each other's.

"Come on, you have cut open the guts of your countless enemies, but can't even kiss a boy properly?" He giggled, and could almost feel Tristan turning red.

"Fine."

Tristan returned the kiss with equal passion, making the younger man moan softly. He slid a hand into his chest through his loose shirt, with the absolute intention to make Galahad shudder as well, and succeding at it. Galahad's hands now grabbed at Tristan's hair. Then the older man's hand left Galahad's chest to caress along his exposed leg, and Tristan had to pull away a little again, an obligatory pause marvelling at his young beauty.

"You feel so good," Tristan sighed.

"So do you," Galahad whispered to him, eager for whatever was coming next, one of his hands now holding onto Tristan's side.

Tristan kissed him again, and Galahad let him push them down against the grass. There wasn't a trace of his past concerns, and even future concerns didn't threaten him as much anymore, all that mattered was the warmth of their bodies close together. Galahad smiled in bliss as he felt Tristan kissing his neck, excited about the new life they had chosen and awaited them.

[jinkiics]

( kaylee bryant, demi female , she/her & they/them )╰ ✧ ˔ ⭒ magic is in the air ! oh wait - that’s just my old friend, VELMA DINKLEY, the TWENTY THREE year old FORENSIC SCIENTIST. they’ve lived in rome pines for ages, so everyone knows that they’re PERSPICACIOUS and ACIDULOUS, just like VELMA DINKLEY from SCOOBY DOO. they may not have any magic in them, but the neighborhood sure knows them from their A PRISTINE, STARK WHITE LAB COAT WORN OVER AN OVERSIZED ORANGE SWEATER, RED CORDUROY SKIRT AND A PAIR OF MATCHING SUEDE BOOTIES & A LEATHER BOUND NOTEBOOK, PAGE AFTER PAGE OF ILLEGIBLE HANDWRITING, RANGING FROM OBSERVATIONS TO GROCERY LISTS, IT’S COVER CRACKED FROM USE. apparently, they are CURIOUS about meeting these magical citizens from pastoral city, so let’s just hope they will get along with their new neighbors…⭒˔ ╮

meet velma louise dinkley,

about:

click here for a link to velma’s wikia page. i’m going to be keeping her background as close to canon as possible, but the timelines are a little messy. i’ll likely follow the animated timeline. below, i’ll detail notable points in velma’s life. 

velma has always been bright, gifted, whatever you want to call it. she tested out of pre-school and into kindergarten at the age of four. she could have skipped several more grades over the years but her parents decided to keep her at her current grade, for the sake of normalcy. 

because she started school early she was in the same grade as the rest of mystery inc, which led to them becoming a tight-knit group. their bond just as strong all these years later.

velma was that kid who was constantly being enrolled in new classes and activities, trying to find her hobbies. part of this was her parents trying to encourage their daughter to be more social, but it was mainly fueled by velma’s own curiosity. examples of these activities would include photography classes, swim lessons, pottery classes, cooking lessons

graduating from high school at the top of her class, velma had a whole world of opportunities in front of her. she chose to go on to rome pines university where she earned a dual degree in forensics and chemistry. now she works in a lab somewhere as a forensic scientist which she absolutely loves. 

velma has been competing in science fairs since early childhood, obtaining quite a large amount of awards. she's never been much of a braggart, but she will always talk about her awards and scientific accomplishments. she’s also wrote quite a few articles for scientific journals. 

i will probably expand on this in the future but for now this is it !

canon changes:

this section will be brief, as i absolutely love the velma we all know and love i just have a few minor tweaks to her character!

first and foremost, velma dinkley identifies as demi female, using both she/her & they/them for pronouns.

now let’s talk about her appearance! i know we all picture velma’s iconic orange and red outfit, and while those two colors still make up a majority of her wardrobe she does wear other colors! she’s particularly fond of yellow. she’s also big on booties, doc martens to be specific. and lastly, and perhaps the most important she wears contacts!

also, forget any notion of velma being straight. while i’m still willing to go with a storyline of velma and shaggy dating (if we ever get a shaggy), they would’ve broken up because velma is just very very gay. 

i’ll have to check with alyssa to see the extent of mystery inc’s mystery solving, but i do think they would’ve solved a lot of mysteries during their youth and high school. and they haven’t stopped solving them, it’s probably just not as much as they used to. 

fun facts:

velma always has either a hair tie on her wrist or a piece of ribbon in her pocket to pull back her hair in case she ever needs it. 

a self-confessed linguist, velma has been fluent in english and japanese since early childhood. she has since become fluent in latin and greek, as well as having a good understanding of spanish, italian, french, and german. 

you already know she packs her lunch in a bento box, complete with a matching thermos.

everything in velma’s life has to be organized, and in her own specific way. even one thing out of place, and she won’t be able to move past it. this extends well into her daily routine/schedule as well, meaning she’s not a huge fan of surprises. she keeps a very detailed calendar, it’s color coded. 

she’s terrified of clones, stemming from the bobo the clown incident on her fifth birthday. even the mention of the word clown gets to her. it’s the only part of her behavior that she would call irrational. she has since replaced her full set of encyclopedias, they remain some of her most prized possessions. 

i feel like she’s the kind of gal to carry a satchel, it’s just easier that way. in it she has all of the essentials, her ID, money, keys, a first aid kit, a flash light, a magnifying glass, pens, a nail file, sewing kit, a book in case she gets bored, a matchbook, tape, chapstick, so on. 

a once chronic nail biter, velma has since started to paint her nails in hopes of putting a stop to this problem. it seems to have worked so far. 

she has a pet calico cat named puzzles (subject to change) she loves puzzles, a lot. she talks to her and everything. very cute. 

she absolutely loves mint gum- she always has a pack of it with her. however, she cannot stand chewing gum in front of other people so she usually spits it out. 

she’s a collector, she sees an interesting item or trinket and he has to have it. 

pinterest board: here.

playlist: coming soon

wanted connections: 

i plan to submit some formal wanted connections to the main but i’ll give some ideas here !

fred, shaggy, any and all scoobyverse characters! pls gimme. 

friends outside of mystery inc. she wouldn’t have many but she’d have some, maybe through work, maybe through shared hobbies. or maybe they get together and play dungeons and dragons!

an academic rival - they’ve been competing since childhood and wont be stopping anytime soon. they cant stand each other, this is important. 

exes ! velma is hella gay. otherwise, i feel she’s maybe not the best at relationships but she’s very caring and that’s what counts !

maybe even someone mystery inc exposed ?? that could be fun

[rwoan]

    𝒉𝒊  𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆  !  oh  gosh  ,  i  am  so  excited  to  finally  be  posting  this  ?  ya  girl  has  been  ecstatic  about  this  group  for  the  past  few  days  and  just  wow  ,  thank  you  all  for  being  here  !  not  to  be  emo  ,  but  i  really  appreciate  your  interest  and  excitement  ,  i  truly  can’t  wait  to  meet  and  write  with  you  all  .  briefly  ,  my  name  is  lenny  (  22  ,  mst  ,  she  /  her  )  and  i’ve  been  freezing  my  ass  off  in  -  40  temperatures  all  week  #canada  .  i’m  a  huge  harry  potter  nerd  and  will  gladly  scream  with  you  about  ariana  grande  ,  harry  styles  ,  or  the  jonas  brothers  .  below  the  cut  is  all  that  you  need  to  know  about  my  dear  rowan  ,  one  of  my  favourite  muses  who  i’ve  developed  so  much  in  the  past  that  what  lies  below  is  a  novel  and  a  half  ,  so  i  apologize  in  advance  .  i  will  likely  be  messaging  you  all  through  discord  ,  so  keep  an  eye  on  your  dms  !  i’m  the  biggest  h*e  for  plots  ,  so  straight  up  just  throw  ‘em  all  at  me  —  angst  ,  drama  ,  fluff  ,  tension  ,  we  love  it  all  !  okay  shut  up  ,  lenny  ,  no  one  cares  —  mwah  ,  love  you  all  already  !

❛  ⋆  ․  i  totally  just  saw  𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒏  𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒔  walking  down  sunset  boulevard  ,  looking  so  much  like  𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆  𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒔𝒄𝒉  that  i  had  to  do  a  double  take  !  the  𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚  𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓  year  old  has  been  living  in  the  city  of  angels  for  𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓  𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔  now  and  has  made  quite  a  name  for  𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇  working  as  a  𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒅  𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓  /  𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒃𝒆𝒓  .  i've  heard  they  can  be  quite  𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄  &  𝒐𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆  ,  but  at  least  they're  𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆  &  𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒕  ,  hey  ?  they  remind  me  so  much  of  𝒂  𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒂  𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍  𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍  𝒐𝒇  𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒅  𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒐𝒔  ,  𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒅  𝒄𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒆  𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓  𝒂  𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈  𝒓𝒖𝒏  ,  𝒈𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒏  𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔  𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈  𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒅  𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔  (  lenny  ,  22  ,  mst  ,  she / her  )

*  /  ♡  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒  .

full  name  :  rowan georgina collins

nicknames  :  row

age  /  dob  :  twenty4 / september 1 , 1995

gender  :  cis female ( she / her )

sexuality  :  openly bisexual

hometown  :  calabasas , california

label  :  the epicure ( a person who takes particular pleasure in fine food and drink )

*  /  ♡  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘  .

rowan comes from a fairly opulent background : her parents never married — in fact , her father came out as gay when she was young — but both were quite successful on their own independent ventures and raised row in a very happy , yet slightly spoiled , childhood

her mother is a big - time magazine editor and had sole custody of rowan in their lush calabasas home , but rowan has always remained incredibly close with her father , a celebrity chef , and often spent weekends and holidays in his long beach penthouse apartment .

because of her wealthy lifestyle ( and having a chef for a father ) rowan was exposed to fine cuisine at a young age . she had incredibly mature tastebuds — even at the age of like 6 she was munching on calamari and truffle oil . she honestly can’t remember a time she ever turned her nose up at trying something new , her father having instilled a deep curiosity and passion for all foods in her .

there honestly isn’t much else to say about her upbringing , there’s no big sob story or rising climax — rowan is incredibly grateful for the stable , happy , and comfortable life her parents blessed her with . she found going between homes quite exciting and looked forward to the double christmases and birthdays — which is a great symbol of how rowan looks at the world . while some may call it “ rose coloured glasses ” , rowan sees herself as an optimist and prefers to find the silver lining in most situations and considers dwelling on the negatives a waste of time .

alright , continuing on : when she was in her early teens , rowan started a food blog purely out of boredom and a general desire to share her passion for food . she started out by sharing low quality images of her meals and writing littles blurbs — nothing too fancy .

however , fast forward a couple years of ritualistic posting , her father discovered the blog one day and immediately shared it on his own social media ( because of course he had to brag about his little food connoisseur ) and row’s blog blew up from there . by the time she was 18 , rowan was getting paid to visit some nice ass restaurants around los angeles and write reviews on her blog , which was gaining interest with each post she wrote . 

high school graduation came and went , and row’s online influence grew bigger and bigger , and continued to grow even as she attended the university of california to major in communications , which she envisioned would only serve to aid her in her online endeavours .

during her college career , rowan started up her youtube channel . it started as a couple videos that she linked in blog posts , prompted by questions from her followers about how she juggled her busy calendar , what her favourite recipes were , and more . her videos opened her up to an entirely new audience , and thus rowan blew up even more . she has since become a popular youtube star , her channel a collection of daily vlogs , cooking videos , restaurant reviews , and more .

my main inspo for rowan’s youtube aesthetic was alisha marie , our queen , with her casual daily vlogs and fun challenge videos , but with a mix of madelaine herself and laurdiy ( i imagine row as the foodie version of lauren ) , and those sort of vlog queens !

rowan graduated uofc with her degree in communications 2 years ago , when she was 21 , and has since been able to fully dedicate herself to her online presence . for the last two years , she’s been mainly focused on consistent posting on both ( although she did get rid of having a set schedule about a year and a half ago in order to ease up her stress ) .

*  /  ♡  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄  .

label(s)  :  the epicure , the icarian , the aesthete , the sybarite

epicure : the whole basis of rowan’s existence is food . like , it’s pretty much the whole basis of everyone’s existence , but rowan is extra in love with food . she’s both incredibly passionate about eating and cooking , although possibly more so about eating — it is her job after all .

icarian : curiosity , adventure , and spontaneity are likely the three words most commonly associated with rowan — aside from food of course .

aesthete : to be a popular food blogger / youtuber / instagrammer you kinda have to have a good aesthetic , but rowan’s is extraordinarily good . the girl is always on the look out for cute backdrops for selfies , decor for her home , and new clothes to fill her wardrobe .

sybarite : materialism is probably row’s biggest downfall . she can’t help but have a deep inner desire to own all things on trend .

traits  :  materialistic , creative , passionate , self - indulgent , obsessive , honest , expressive , confident , starry - eyed

aesthetics  :  a camera roll full of food photos , large red waves , hourly instagram stories , iced coffee after a morning run , a red kiss pressed onto a white napkin , golden rings decorating manicured fingers , keyboard clicks at midnight , chilled mimosas paired with laughter .

personality  :  rowan’s definitely very bubbly and charismatic , but can also come off as quite spoiled , materialistic , and bossy at times . she knows what she wants , how she wants it , and she’ll stop at next to nothing to get it .

she practically radiates bde and oozes confidence .

her friends are literally her everything and she’d likely do anything for them . she’s definitely that Rich Friend™ who will buy your lunch for you , take you shopping for the perfect outfit when you land the interview of a lifetime , and also buy the first ( and most ) of many rounds of shots at the bar .

her home has an open door to anyone she cares about . no point in letting two spare bedrooms sit empty , as she says , and she’ll always welcome you in with open arms when needed .

she’s a party girl , but is also the girl who will be texting the group chat at 9am after a night out asking when brunch is .

above all , she’s incredibly passionate about her work . she is a virgo after all , so she’s very organized , ambitious , and a bit of a perfectionist . she’s never afraid to stay up all night ensuring her latest video is perfect , or will re-read a new blog post at least twenty times to make sure she didn’t miss a thing . 

this ambition and perfectionism is both her saving grace and her downfall . it makes for incredibly cohesive , put - together , and strong content , but can also often drive her to the point of insanity of trying to make sure everything is just right .

*  /  ♡  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒  .

in order to keep this from becoming a novel ( too late ) , you can find some extra info about rowan by following the links below :

wanted plots .

headcanons .

pinterest .

playlist .

[wp-yahoo-style-1042-yahoopa-blog]

Openly Gay Student Receives His Air Force Diploma Wearing a Red Dress and Heels

A student who was almost bullied out of Brazil’s Aeronautic Technology Institute of the Air Force made a bold statement at his graduation. (Photo: Getty Images)

Talles de Oliveira Faria made a bold, empowered statement at his graduation ceremony from Brazil’s Aeronautic Technology Institute of the Air Force recently, according to LGBTQ Nation. The 24-year-old had endured years of bullying from both students and faculty during his tenure at the prestigious institute, and he’d simply had enough.

So on the day of his graduation, Faria decided to strut across the stage and shed his ceremonial gown to reveal a bright-red cocktail dress that showed off his toned legs and a pair of white Mary Jane shoes with a platform heel. His best accessory, though, was the warm, proud smile spread across his face and he graciously accepted his diploma — and it was all caught on video.

Faria had been courageous all along — ever since he realized that the school he thought was going to be his dream actually turned out to be something of a nightmare, from a social perspective anyway. “Since I was 12 years old, I listened to wonderful things about the Institute,” he told the publication. “I heard that it was the best university in the country and that it could open you several opportunities in the future … I did not know that it was going to be the worst deception of my life.”

That deception included cruel comments from lecturers at the supposedly “hyper-masculine” institute, one of whom made this hateful statement to him, he told LGBTQ Nation: “There are no sad electrons, there are no electrons with psychological problems, there are no gay electrons.” And he claims a student once made the tragic remark, “If I were you I’d kill myself.”

But Faria kept his head held high and was able to maintain clarity about the situation and a firm sense of self. He told LGBTQ Nation, “Since childhood they teach us that being lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transsexual is a shame and then we take a lot of time to heal those injuries. They insulted me, they laughed at me and tried to make me invisible.”

Faria’s graduation ceremony was his glorious moment of redemption. According to Brazilian website Estadao, his goal in arriving in a dress and heels was to oppose homophobia and psychological violence at the institution. “Several students want to leave because they cannot stand the psychological pressure,” he told the publication. And the emboldened graduate took to Facebook to write, “Accept me as I am or be exposed for what you are. They did not accept me, they violated me, they laughed at me, they tried to make me invisible, that the exhibition change them because I will continue to love myself and become very present in the world.”

And because the Aeronautic Technology Institute of the Air Force is part of the armed forces, Faria included in his Facebook post a defense of LGBTQ people’s rights to be included fairly and without harassment or marginalization. A rough translation of what he posted to Facebook reads, “I felt like homophobia happens in the armed forces by means of invisibility, and the laughing stock of the expulsion of those who dare to be open about his sexual orientation.”

According to the Center for American Progress, as recently as 2010, “gay, lesbian, and bisexual Americans in the armed forces were forced to keep their sexuality a secret or risk being discharged — a risk that would become a certainty if attempting to marry a person of the same sex,” though progress has been made in our country, such as the 2010 repeal of the military’s “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” policy. Sexual orientation is no longer grounds for dismissal from the U.S. military.

Meanwhile, Brazil is enduring a period of increased LGBTQ violence, and not just in the military, according to the New York Times. In fact, an LGBTQ person is murdered every 28 hours in Brazil, says the Huffington Post. And that makes Faria’s act of defiance all the more important, as he stands up not only for himself but also for an entire nation of openly gay citizens who face a long road toward acceptance.

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[bethevenyc]

RuPaul's DragCon report: When drag goes mainstream

Happy fans waiting in long lines for the chance to meet with their favorite drag queens at RuPaul’s DragCon in NYC on Sept. 9-10. (Photo: The Drunken Photographer for Yahoo)

Among the 35,000 people who streamed in over the weekend to RuPaul’s DragCon — a drag queen convention of the highest order — were the expected crowds of gay men, aspiring drag performers, hip New Yorkers, and nightlife impresarios.

But among them, quite comfortably, were mobs of giddy, star-struck, suburban tweens and teens, standing on line for hours, often with their parents, to meet RuPaul’s Drag Race heroes like Peppermint, Shea Coulée, Sasha Velour, Acid Betty, Ginger Minj, and of course RuPaul, many full-on screaming whenever one of the seven-foot-tall glamazons swept through the crowd.

“I love the overall concept of [the show], how everyone is themselves,” Rebecca Sykes-Quirk, 14, of Connecticut, told Yahoo Beauty of the VH1 series, just off of its ninth and biggest season yet. Rebecca wore a self-made T-shirt featuring images of eight Drag Race celebs (including Peppermint and RuPaul) and milled around the convention with her mom, Lorrie Quirk, and sister Amanda, 11, who said she was a fan of Peppermint and added, nonchalantly, “My dance teacher is a drag queen.”

A kids’ runway event kicked off RuPaul’s DragCon on Sunday. (Photo: The Drunken Photographer for Yahoo)

The family-friendly mob scene even included a children’s runway event, starring the likes of social media stars Desmond is Amazing, 10, and Lactacia, 8. It all may have been a shock to the system for anyone who still thinks of drag as belonging solely to an edgy, double-entendre-laden underground scene better suited to dark, booze-fueled gay clubs at 1am than to the light-drenched Jacob Javits Center (known more for auto shows and nursing conventions) at noon.

But it shouldn’t be all that surprising, considering that RuPaul’s Drag Race has seen its TV ratings skyrocket since hopping from the LGBT-themed Logo Network to VH1 earlier this year, when it swiftly moved into the No. 1 prime-time Friday slot for coveted 18- to 49-year-old demographic for non-sports cable shows.

Naomi Smalls, right, a “RuPaul’s Drag Race” Season 8 contestant, met with fans. (Photo: The Drunken Photographer for Yahoo)

“What’s even more fascinating is that when the show jumped networks, it wasn’t retooled to gain wider acceptance. With the same campy humor and over-the-top performances, it has managed to achieve its best-ever ratings,” Vice noted in June. “If anything, Drag Race is becoming bolder, challenging ideas about what drag culture and even queer identity means in 2017.”

Still, drag is subversive by definition — a way for men to express “otherness” through over-the-top entertainment in the LGBT world — and has always been closely linked to the start of the gay rights revolution, with drag queens helping to lead the charge against police crackdowns at Stonewall in 1969.

And so it all begs the question: Can shady, campy, nasty, counter-culture, drag survive going mainstream without getting watered-down in the process?

Tessa and Milena Chiari, 12-year-old twins from Staten Island, hit RuPaul’s DragCon with their parents, Tara and Alex. (Photo: The Drunken Photographer for Yahoo)

“The great challenge will be to maintain an underground identity in a Disney world,” Mimi Imfurst, the character of Branden Chapman who competed in RuPaul’s Drag Race Season 3, told Yahoo Beauty from her DragCon booth on Sunday (wearing, brilliantly, Handmaid’s Tale-inspired drag, white bonnet and all). “Drag has always been so subversive and a cultural satire, and when you become mainstream, a risk is that you become homogenized.”

Still others say such fear is overblown, and that the positives of drag’s gospel spreading to the masses far outweigh any potential negatives.

“Drag going mainstream is an old story,” James St. James, the notorious former club kid (portrayed by Seth Green in the 2003 film Party Monster, based on James’ memoir) told Yahoo Beauty on Sunday, fresh off of a makeover into drag legend Divine in front of a filled-to-capacity audience. “If RuPaul’s ‘Supermodel’ didn’t destroy drag in 1992, then it won’t be destroyed now.”

Families were a common sight at RuPaul’s DragCon in NYC on Sept. 10-11. (Photo: The Drunken Photographer for Yahoo)

He referred, of course, to the first time RuPaul brought drag lexicon like “sashay,” “shante,” and “work it” to the delicate ears of mainstream America, about a decade after the Supermodel of the World’s infectious sass blew up in the New York nightlife world. Now, a brief chat with pretty much any fan in the DragCon crowd confirmed that the rest of the world has caught on.

“People are just so drawn to the art form of drag,” Miranda Park, 22, who traveled to DragCon from Williamstown, Mass., to join her friends on Sunday, told Yahoo Beauty. “It’s such an open place — like, the queens read each other, but it’s still this safe space and great community.”

Cousins April Proscia and Michele Proscia, from New Jersey, said they had come into the city for DragCon because they are drawn to the culture.

“I always said, when I was pregnant, ‘I hope my son is a drag queen,” said April about her boy Daniel, 5. “He does like to wear my nail polish and heels!” Michele, who noted that her daughter had already been waiting on line for two hours to meet makeup bad boy Jeffree Starr, added, “All my friends are gay. I’ve always loved the drag community.”

Drag queen fans got the royal treatment at RuPaul’s DragCon. (Photo: The Drunken Photographer for Yahoo)

Tessa and Milena Chiari, 12-year-old twins from Staten Island, love how Drag Race is “so fun and crazy,” and are particularly fond of Sasha Velour and Peppermint. “I love how it embraces everyone being different,” mom Tara added.

Kristie Hendricks, at DragCon with her husband JP and their son Gage, 10, has similar feelings on the larger message of drag. “I feel like I’m with my people,” says Hendricks, who uses a wheelchair to get around and who got in the spirit on Sunday by wearing a purple wig and cat ears. “Nobody judges. Everybody’s included.”

Isis Vermouth, a drag queen from Poughkeepsie says that the rise of Drag Race’s popularity has been beneficial for her in a practical way. “I work every weekend,” she said, noting that she’s now getting hired at more and more gigs by events and clubs — particularly straight clubs. “It’s not drag that’s gone mainstream — it’s gay that’s gone mainstream.” And the challenge now, as she sees it, is how to keep yourself unique enough to be relevant with so many more queens in the field.

“We’ve always been family-friendly,” said Donna Slash, a drag performer from Washington, D.C. (Photo: The Drunken Photographer for Yahoo)

“As [NYC drag legend] Lady Bunny once said, ‘Why would anyone hire you if you’re performing the same as everyone else?’ Vermouth, for her part, sticks to a schtick of 1920s burlesque style, with a mix of original songs and parodies.

Jane Saw, who has a punk, kooky-creepy off-kilter aesthetic that she shares with Jaxknife Complex, Salvadora Dalí, and Donna Slash — promoters of a Washington D.C. party called Gay Bash — is taking the mainstream phenomenon all in stride. “There’s always been two faces of drag — the 10pm show and then the 1am show. And as it goes mainstream it will become even more diversified,” she says, with Donna Slash adding, “We’ve always been family friendly.”

As for the possibility of so many unlikely drag fans hopping aboard simply because of the freak-show aspect, Salvadora Dalí just smiles and shrugs. “When was drag not a freak show?”

Bottom line, according to James St. James, is that spreading the love of drag, in all its diverse glory, is a beautiful thing. “I was frustrated in the first season of Drag Race because everyone had such a showgirl aesthetic. But now contestants like Trixie Mattel and Milk keep changing the game, and kids keep getting exposed to the art form,” he said. “So I don’t see any downside.”

Read more from Yahoo Style + Beauty:

Fierce looks from RuPaul’s DragCon NYC 2017

Trans Star Candis Cayne on Beauty: ‘When I Started Doing Drag There Was No YouTube’

This is BibleGirl, a drag queen gaining fame without ‘RuPaul’s Drag Race’

Follow us on Instagram, Facebook, and Pinterest for nonstop inspiration delivered fresh to your feed, every day. For Twitter updates, follow @YahooStyle and @YahooBeauty.

[williams411-blog]

1. Outside the Window: What’s the weather outside your window doing right now? If that’s not inspiring, what’s the weather like somewhere you wish you could be?

It was a Sunday night in spring. Streetlights were waking up, and the neighborhood was shutting down. Mrs. Jones was in high spirits as she prepared for bed. Today, was a good day. She had gotten her whole family up early, had a very promising meeting with several members of the church, followed by an early Sunday potluck with what may have been her best Pinterest inspired potato salad. As she laid down she went through her nightly prayers. As she moved down her list of various but specific prayers, which had become almost ritualistic, she added in a couple extras. She thanked God for her family and her church, and she even thanked God for Pinterest, without which she would have had nothing to brag about while she discussed the ungodly things she had witnessed this week. However, tonight’s biggest praise was for the rain. She thanked God for sending a storm. It was a twofold thank you. Not only had it helped water her garden for her, a task she had been neglecting, but it also drowned out Mr. Jones wretched snoring. She had always enjoyed thunderstorms. Watching the lightning streak the sky while rain danced across her window had been one of the most soothing things about living in a rainy town. She settled into bed and added a quick thank you for allowing her to find such a safe town with such a strong sense of God. She turned off her lamp and drifted off to the sound of rain. Unaware of what was happening in her cozy town. Outside of comfy bedding with fancy thread counts, and on the other side of windows lit with the glow of bath and body works scented candles, it was no ordinary storm. No this was something far more sinister. The clouds seemed to amplify the light from the full moon overhead. It was a mysterious blue color that cast a sickly pallor on his exposed skin. With each drop of rain, he felt as though he was being weighed down. They did not bounce away, but instead soaked into his clothes, into his skin, cut through him. It did not comfort him or make him want to dance the way it used to. It was no longer ethereal or magical. The rain had become chains, tethering him to the earth, to the present, to reality. The thunder clapped as he watched through the window of what use to be his safe space. No longer a home but just another house, on just another street, in just another city. He picked up his clothes and bags that were carelessly thrown on the front steps. How had this happened? How could he have been so wrong? He grew up just two streets from the Jones’s. In the same God loving rainy town that had sheltered him for the last 15 years. But something had changed that night. With a pit in his stomach, and his heart in his throat he had called his parents down to the living room. He sat on the newly purchased crème colored couch, fingers interlaced, as he often did when he was nervous. His parents anxiously awaited what he had to say. Finally, his face broke. The words poured out of his mouth, and escaped him faster than he could pull them back in. “I’m gay.” Immediate silence. Nothing was heard but the rain outside and the tears breaking down his face. He looked at his mother and father and in the blink of an eye he remembered his whole life. Flashing before him were visions of his 8th birthday party where he had a specially crafted firetruck cake, at the local fire department. Flash. Another vision, nine years old. Crying because he didn’t understand why grandma wouldn’t be coming back from the hospital this time. Curled up in his mother’s arms while she sang her special version of amazing grace. Flash. 10 years old going to peewee football practice with dad. Catching a football and scoring his first touchdown. His father picked him up and beamed a smile that exuded nothing but love, and adoration. This was his boy. Flash. Thirteen. Rachel Meadows had dumped him because Jack had asked her to the dance. He felt the sting all over again and remembered how his dad had taken him for a special drive and out for pizza and ice cream while mom was at book club. He could still see the smirk as he winked, “don’t tell your mother or we’ll both be grounded.” Flash. Fifteen. This was last week. His parents had done a special dedication in which they gave their only son to God, the way God had given his. It was such an amazing and uplifting experience. They were one with the lord. One family, one heartbeat, one eternal life with their savior and now he was a part of that too. His attention snapped back to the living room as though he had been gone for days. Still silence. This went on for another what seemed like eternity. He wondered if he should say it again, but he didn’t have the strength if he wanted to.  His face broke again as his father’s mouth opened. Wait this was different, there was no smirk, no wink, no love. And then the word hit his ear like nails on a chalkboard. “Out.” Something else broke, not his face, but his heart. The emotional pain was palpable and he thought he might pass out. He sank further into the sofa. Surely his parents were playing a joke on him. They loved him. It was a Christ-like love, constant and unchanging. He roamed deep into their eyes, first father, then mother’s. There was nothing, they were empty. Almost instantaneously he found himself on the front steps, bags and the few clothes he had been allowed to keep strewn about. Standing in the rain. He was fifteen. He was a good kid. A little mouthy at times, but a heart of gold and a terrible sense of accountability. He was wise beyond his years. Suddenly the guilt sank its serpent fangs into his chest.  He was guilty of holding that secret from them. He had known for some time now, and never said anything. He was dirty, filthy. There wasn’t anything that could make him clean. Not the tears pouring down his face, or the rain piercing the rest of his body, and especially not the love of god whom he had felt so close too. He was alone. For the first time. And now, like his parent’s eyes, he too was empty. Pangs of guilt and misery pulsated through his body while he slowly collected his things. He slumped down the street with a clear destination in sight. He had taken the journey many times. Almost every Sunday since he was born in fact. Yes, he could find his way to the church in the dark, or the rain, or both as it appeared. He knew he would be there soon, just two streets over and across the bridge. He was devoid of thought. He couldn’t make his body function as the rain eroded his soul. Misery. He passed by the familiar scenes. When he reached the second street he saw it. Pastor Jones house, where a beacon of love and acceptance had always shone. But he was beyond that now. He looked at the large brick house and the fancy entryway and thought about all the times he had been so happy at church. It was his second home. But not anymore. He had no home. No family. No church, but still, he made his way. He was at the bridge now. He could no longer differentiate between rain or tears. His muscles ached with the exhaustion of a total system shut down. But he trudged on. He looked over the edge of the bridge at the water, it pushed against the banks and had risen quite a bit. He had always found peace with the water. He felt the concrete edge in his hand as he leaned on the bridge and allowed himself a moment of weakness. He stood there, the church in the background. He could see the flood lights inside shining dimly through the stained-glass windows. And with ever crack of lightning he could see the high tower which hosted the virgin Mary and her baby boy. That was true love. But obviously, it was easier to love your son unconditionally when he was the son of god. He found himself staring into her face. Looking at her smile with disdain. It was haunting. It was mocking him. It hated him. He eased himself on to the ledge treading carefully so he didn’t fall by accident. He sat there for another minute or so. The rain no longer bothered him. He deserved it. He deserved to be chained down for his sin, and punished for his devilish ways. Yes, the rain was good. Therapeutically painful. It spoke to him and he found his eyes again on the church. This time on the mural which only now did he realize was highlighted by the lone standing streetlight. It was his favorite story. Noah’s ark. Beautifully painted by a group of Sunday school teachers, he had always loved that painting. But now it was God himself, a burning bush calling out to him. Just as God had cleansed the world by flooding the earth, he too would cleanse himself. He stood up tall taking back his power of free will. This is what the world wanted, what God wanted, but most importantly, what he wanted. With his final act of good faith, he jumped from the ledge. He was leaving everything behind, his clothes, his baggage, his sins, his family, and his church. There was nothing left for him. They say when you die your life flashes before your eyes. It did not. He had died hours ago when he was turned to the cold uncaring world by his parents. When he felt the hypocrisy, and unfathomable weight of the church upon him. It crushed him. But not here. In his weightless state of free fall, he was untouchable. He could no longer feel the rain on his skin. He was elegant and free, subject only to the wind and gravity. As he neared the water he cried still. He cried for a world where parents throw their kids out for being different. He cried for a society in which you can be bullied and tormented and beaten for who you love. But mostly, he cried for his loss of innocence. He apologized to God for existing and like Mrs. Jones he said his prayers, one last time. No, he could no longer feel the rain on his skin. For those last few fleeting seconds, he was at peace. He had become the rain.

[ouraidengray4]

What Happens When You Let Friends Use Your Tinder Account

I'm on Tinder, but I don't have to be happy about it.

I am getting pretty good at explaining the internet to people. Most of the time, these are older relatives, like my parents and grandparents. "Facebook is mutual," I tell them. "Twitter is one-way. Tumblr is a like if Facebook and Twitter had a baby. A gay baby."

But last year, I was hanging out with a couple I'm close with, two hip, engaged-in-the-world 30-somethings with burgeoning digital presences of their own, when my friend asked, "How does Tinder work?"

I looked at her suspiciously. "Is that a trick question?" I asked.

My friend, Teresa, is married, works as a photographer, and is a minor Pinterest celebrity. (Full disclosure: I'm not sure I could explain Pinterest to you). She and her husband met eight years ago and have been married for four, so they've been off the market since the waning days of the George W. Bush presidency. Neither of them ever had a need for OKCupid, much less Tinder.

In the moment, I had to remind myself how Tinder worked: You attach the app to your Facebook account, tell it what kind of genitalia you're interested in, throw in an age range, and limit how far away a potential match can be. Then the app lines up the people that fit the bill—I assume using some sort of mathscience to order them—and presents them like targets at a phenomenally boring shooting gallery.

"Can I try?" Teresa asked.

Anyone who has used Tinder will probably be able to relate to the soul-crushing stupor you can enter when you use it—face after face getting flicked mostly to the left, occasionally to the right. At some point, it starts to feel like a war of attrition. Why would anyone want to try it?

I handed my phone to Teresa somewhat nervously, and she took to her task with relish. Even as I attempted to watch over her shoulder, I felt what I realized was an important sense of control over my Tinder matches slipping away. "No, no, no…" she said, her finger sliding left with a newbie's deliberateness.

"This guy is a lawyer... and he lives in town!" Teresa said, referencing a deep, ill-fated entanglement with a bartender I'd recently matched with while traveling. To Teresa's mind, that guy's biggest flaw was that he'd lived so dang far away. She swiped right on the lawyer. "Oooh, it's a match!" she said, showing me the victorious match screen.

I somewhat rudely snatched my phone back and examined the solicitor's profile. I knew almost instantly I would not have chosen him. He was alright-looking, just not my type. As I held the phone in my hands, it buzzed—he'd already sent me a message.

What if this whole time, I've just been doing it wrong? It's much easier to wander for 40 years in the desert if you know that there's a promised land of milk and honey at the end of the trail.

Teresa was not alone among my becoupled friends whose curiosity about Tinder was earnest and well-meaning, yet exposed large, gaping holes in my own sense of well-being. At that point, I'd already had several friends in LTRs—mostly heterosexual women, though that might just be because most of my friends are hetero ladies—ask questions about Tinder that felt gastrointestinal in their intimacy.

Of course, I can understand their fascination: Tinder and the other swipe-apps have become a cultural touchstone that is ethically inaccessible to the happily committed. Tinder offers its users thousands of faces and potential partners, while my couple friends have settled on one face that, the understanding is, will be it. To put it in cruder terms: They've got an app that shows them the same face over and over, that they constantly need to swipe right on. To someone who has chosen their person, Tinder must represent a kind of strange, forbidden playground that, for the most part, they have no real interest in, but still wouldn't mind checking out.

The disconnect seems to be in this idea that single people like being on the swipey dating apps. While I imagine there are those power users who derive pleasure from the experience, I feel that the lion's share of us Tinderers would just as soon not be on it if we didn't need to be. (If I had a nickel for every profile that starts with "Looking for someone who'll give me a reason to delete this app," well… I'd have a roll or two of nickels, at least). And though I can't deny the neurochemical high I get when I match with someone—especially an attractive someone—that dopamine dump seems rooted in the desperation of the entire exercise. Will this guy be the one that presages the end of singledom?

I know how the logic goes: The single—especially the chronically single, like yours truly—must just be not choosing right. Outsource the task to a friend (or even a computer), and they can choose a quality partner that we would have otherwise overlooked, clouded as we are by such petty considerations as attraction.

Maybe that's where my knee-jerk nausea originated: handing over control of my Tinder was equivalent to admitting that I couldn't trust my own sense of attraction, that quickening of the heart, the fuzzy tendrils that radiate out from the chest, the head-to-toe sweep of goosebumps you get when you really like someone. But without the starry-eyed thrill, what's the goddamned point?

On a purely practical level, there's another problem with letting my friend guest-swipe on my Tinder: The same way that a friend borrowing my Netflix login skewed my recommendation algorithm by binge-watching several seasons of Pretty Little Liars, Teresa's swiping had the potential to confuse the impersonal math equation Tinder uses to select my matches. Unlike the algorithms used by services like OKCupid, which try to use common interests to match people, the swipey apps use our instant hot-or-not reaction to their photos—which is apparently how good matches are made.

Maybe in the end, it all boils down to the same primal, emotional place I go to whenever someone offers dating advice: Don't tell me how I'm failing. Partly because they don't know how hard it is to not only be failing at dating, but to still be failing at dating. When they're done hypothetically and dispassionately swiping for me, they get to crawl into bed with their person.

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And partly because… what if they're right? What if this whole time, I've just been doing it wrong? It's much easier to wander for 40 years in the desert if you know that there's a promised land of milk and honey at the end of the trail.

Still, the swiping continues, not because I think it's a good way to meet people, so much as it feels like one of the only ways to meet people. And though I am living for the day when I can hit the X over the jiggling app icon because I've met (and locked down) the man of my dreams, I wonder if that final click might be 10 percent bitter to the 90 percent sweet. As one friend who has recently left singledom for a guy she met on Tinder said to me the other day, "I finally deleted Tinder last night, and it felt kind of sad."

After a moment, though, she reconsidered.

"No, not sad… what am I saying?" she said. "I guess I mean it felt sort of like a strange end of an era."

For a couple of weeks following Teresa's guest appearance on my Tinder, I kept matching with guys I had no memory of swiping on. I felt bad about ignoring them—though that seemed kinder than explaining the situation. Besides, there's a kind of horrible usefulness to the rhetoric of silence on dating apps. In fact, years of using these apps have taught me something like a new language—and maybe that was the at the core of the problem: Teresa didn't speak it.

I suppose I find myself locked in a strange symbiosis with Tinder, hating it, but also feeling ownership over it. Still, I keep swiping, hoping that with every flick of the finger, I'm bringing myself just a bit closer to the end of this strange, strange era.

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