#right now it all feels like blatant homophobia/excuses to be homophobic ://

[lostchildonaisle3]

probably gonna be my last post about this because again i am sick of it but if y'all are gonna be assholes about punkflower because you think it's proship i expect the EXACT same energy for anything about Hobie and Gwen.

[thefrostqueen]

Hanyo no Yashahime

Season 1 Review

It’s review time

Hanyo no Yashahime is the sequel to the classic anime InuYasha, in which a teen from present day travels back to Feudal Japan where demons and magic are very much a reality. The sequel follows the children of the main characters from InuYasha and puts them on their own adventure to save the world.

Note: All opinions are my own. This is a critical review of entertainment media, and will include criticism. If you do not agree, then simply ignore.

The Plot

Early on, it was established that Towa and company would seek out the dream butterfly and get back Setsuna’s dreams/sleep. Treekyo told them they would have to defeat Sesshomaru and Kirinmaru. After many episodes, this plot line was unimportant and almost discarded. Passing and fleeting, the true motive of the girls quest is sporadic and mentioned sparingly, and for many episodes it seemed they were only there to slay high level demons.

Mysteries and questions were extremely abundant and established early on, and as the episodes went by, it was clear they wouldn’t be answered. At least this season. One thing the fandom has noticed is how many questions there are, and how in some crazy way sunrise managed to withhold all answers and key plot points from the plot for so long. Treekyo? Not that important apparently. Her prophecy? Never mentioned again. The dream butterfly? Seen not explained. It’s connection to Kirinmaru and Zero? Contradicted in the show. InuYasha and Kagome? Just as forgotten as Moroha when there is a fight.

The pacing of this show was all over the place and inconsistent, providing too much focus on filler in some episodes and not enough plot in others. And in the episodes where we got to come back to the main story, we would get info dumps. I mentioned in my mid-season review how info dumps are cheap in the scheme of writing and plot outline, and I’ll say it again because I was surprised as the episodes went on how inconsistent everything was getting.

Now, don’t get me wrong, InuYasha had lots of fillers too, but unlike Yashahime, they established a lot of exposition and plot within the first 12 episodes; we got the main characters and their ambitions/conflicts, the main villain, the dual antagonist (Sesshomaru, at least he was a villain for a bit anyway) and the basics of the magic system was established and explained. Yashahime did set up the character’s goals, but the character’s quickly seemed to forget them, while in InuYasha their goal of finding the jewel shards was always at the forefront of the majority of the episodes. The main villain was supposedly Kirinmaru (his careless attitude throughout most of the show did not provide the antagonistic “high stakes”) and he sent demons to battle the girls, but the girls were so overpowered and perfected their powers so quickly that the demons provided no real challenge or added any stakes or drama.

The ability/powers of characters were retconned. This was odd and not something I expected. One of the most notable examples is how certain abilities are apparently genetic and inherited through dna instead of through the swords that harbored them like the original series established. An example is Moroha’s “Crimson Backlash Wave” where it mimics the ability Tessaiga has where it sends an opponent’s own demonic attack right back at them, destroying them with their own demonic energy. Moroha does not use Tessaiga, she uses Kurikaramaru. The backlash wave was said to be unique to Tessaiga, and only able to be used with Tessaiga, but that lore was weirdly chosen to be retconned. It is unclear wether or not this will be expanded upon in season 2.

In episode 19 of Yashahime, there was blatant homophobia and transphobia. No excuse, there was. InuYasha also had homophobic and transphobic characters. Yashahime could have changed that, but it perpetuated that instead, and it was extremely disappointing. In episode 20, Shiori, a beloved character from the original series, is shown changing into her human form during a solar eclipse. Yashahime chose to whitewash the character by lightening her dark skin. In InuYasha, several characters had darker skin, like InuYasha himself, and when he turned into his human form, his skin would stay the same. There is no excuse for this. Both of these episodes blighted Yashahime’s potential to step away from those things, but it continued to do it instead.

The final episode of the show was fast and full of unanswered questions. The dream butterfly was still not explained, Rin did not wake up, InuYasha and Kagome were not even mentioned, let alone released, and Kirinmaru parented Towa and Setsuna better than their own father. Zero flees, using spider silk (she strangely has many parallels with Naraku, even down to spider imagery) and sets herself up to be the main villain. And Setsuna dies, and Sesshomaru doesn’t seem that worried at all. It was interesting however to see Kirinmaru fight the girls, and he basically began teaching them about their moves and powers. Another interesting aspect was how Sesshomaru is apparently, potentially, time traveling. He shows up and hands Towa the Tensiaga, and the rain stops, and when she takes it, the rain starts again. Towa looks up and it is shown Sesshomaru has vanished instantaneously.

The Characters

Towa Higurashi: In the first two episodes, Towa was portrayed as a tomboy who kicked ass and cared for her family. She was confident and had ambition. Once she came to the feudal era however, her entire personality changed. Her surroundings and the people/beings she met were indeed something she had never encountered, but she suddenly became a moralist, and cautioned Setsuna and Moroha to never fight, despite she herself being notorious in modern day for fighting bullies and bad people. It is almost like her fighting persona in modern day had never happened. Overall, it felt her character was overly gullible, and though she meant well, her sudden drop from “school fighter” to “naive moralist” was odd and seemed to contradict the character they set up in the first three episodes.

Setsuna: Like father like daughter, Setsuna retains her father’s most iconic personality traits, and is focused on her ambitions and remains cautious around people and demons alike. She was, perhaps, the one out of the three princesses to have the most backstory and character focus (despite Towa being the main character) The mystery of her connection with the dream butterfly was genuinely interesting, though it did feel like it dragged on for too long in certain aspects (some lore even felt contradicted) Writing wise, Setsuna felt the most consistently written character of the three girls, both in personality and in development.

Moroha: The perfect mix of her parents, Moroha has had little to few familial relationships and friendships in her life. Her goal of earning money seemed petty at first, but when Moroha finally got her own episode, it was revealed to have a deeper meaning. That episode highlighted Moroha’s strength and perseverance. What was a poor move on behalf of Yashahime’s writers was the strange choice to constantly omit Moroha from vital fights (and even basic fights) It happened pretty much every time, and Moroha was never around for key information about her parents or their quest. It is unclear why her being there for the information would be a bad thing. Her relationship with Towa and Setsuna was shallow, and their bonding had no real emotional impact. In fact, Towa and Setsuna openly mention how they need her for her abilities, not because they like her. The one episode they tried to make them bond fell flat due to the lack of build up and relationship development.

Conclusion

Hanyo no Yashahime was inconsistent and fell flat with several character relationships and motivations. Plot point execution was sporadic and lacked emotional depth and coherent understanding, leaving viewers more confused than awed. Characters from InuYasha were out of character and felt hollow; some of them were not even involved as much as one would think and one didn’t even show up. Kirinmaru is perhaps the most interesting new character to come out of the series, and his respect for the Great Dog Demon has led him to enter a deal with Sesshomaru, and even protect the three princesses. This contradicts several actions he took, and makes a compelling mystery in certain aspects. In conclusion, the show felt rushed and lacked emotional and character depth, and presented several problematic and harmful themes.

Note: Again, all opinions are my own. You are free to comment, but please be respectful.

[miminiac]

Korrasami had build up, just maybe not one you identified with and that’s okay...

I am tired of the LGBTQ+ community hating on Legend of Korra (LoK) for not being gay enough. The critique that there wasn’t enough build up is (1) not productive at all and (2) honestly, not true. There was build up. It may not be the build up every LGBTQ+ person will like, and it may not relate to the experience of every person’s coming out, but it was there. Korrasami was something the creators had tossed around as soon as Book 1 (not that they necessarily had permission to do anything about it). Take this quote from Bryan Konietzko’s tumblr post after the finale aired:

As we wrote Book 1, before the audience had ever laid eyes on Korra and Asami, it was an idea I would kick around the writers’ room. At first we didn’t give it much weight, not because we think same-sex relationships are a joke, but because we never assumed it was something we would ever get away with depicting on an animated show for a kids network in this day and age, or at least in 2010. (link)

The post also discusses how Makorra was never meant to be endgame after Book 1. Again, the time LoK was airing was at a point where states were passing laws to actively prevent gay marriage (LoK ended in 2014, legalization of same-sex marriage by supreme court ruling wasn’t until 2015––context is important). Did they actively write a romance in Books 1 and 2, no they did not. However, as many creators and writers, they let the characters lead them and they discovered that Korra and Asami were more than just friends. Again, taken from the same post:

The more Korra and Asami’s relationship progressed, the more the idea of a romance between them organically blossomed for us

So what we have with Korra and Asami is not a planned romantic relationship from the very beginning, however, the characters have been leading them there since the beginning, whether they realized it or not. Now, I am a big fan of Barthes’ “Death of the Author”, so I 100% percent think that viewers/readers have the ability to inject their own narratives and that multiple narratives can coexist. However, the point of this post is to explain why a critique of “wish they did more” is not productive when it comes to discussion of LoK of a piece of LGBTQ+ media representation. Therefore, I turn to the creators to show that there was intent and there was subtext and build up within Book 3 and 4 (as Bryan discusses in his post, please read in full when you have time).

A lot of Korrasami was hidden in subtext, and that happened because of homophobia within the industry, which still exists today. Content creators of LGBTQ+ media continue to have to walk a fine line. Take Noelle Stevenson talking about Catradora:

My big fear was that I would show my hand too early and get told very definitively that I was not allowed to do this

And like with Catradora (though a little easier since Noelle told viewers that every character is a part of the LGBTQ+ community by default unless explicitly stated otherwise), people saw Korrasami from as early as Book 2 (if not Book 1 on a rewatch).

At the time LoK started airing, I still thought I was straight; I still thought I was straight when I was watching the third season and telling my then boyfriend how Korra and Asami were going to be a couple by the end (literally, when they interacted in the first episode of season 3 while Asami taught Korra how to drive, I turned to him and said it; he said they would never do that and it was a pipe dream). I continued to see Korrasami’s friendship build into something romantic (even if the characters themselves were unaware of it).  

Come Season 3 Episode 9, where Asami carries away a helpless Korra, mimicking Katara having carried away a helpless Aang. For those who had watched the original series and were big Korrasami shippers, this scene basically made it canon. It could be argued as the point that maybe the friendship switched to something more romantic. The rest of season 3 and all of season 4 only added moments between these two (side note: I came out as bisexual soon after season 4 started airing, though I had been questioning my sexuality probably since the end of season 3).

Now is the Korrasami relationship perfect, absolutely not. Bryke admits as much, but it was a significant step forward. Again, this happened in 2014, so a lot of narrative within media of states passing laws to discriminate against same-sex couples and deny marriage. The hand-holding scene everyone screams about not being enough. Well, they received plenty of homophobic backlash from that.

The critique that they didn’t do enough is not productive. It is a critique that could be said about most main-stream LGBTQ+ media. I get that we are tired of scraps; I get that we are tired of having to read between the lines because creators are still afraid to come out and say it (pun intended). However, to critique LoK as “not being gay enough” ignores the context in which it was created and what that representation meant to many of the viewers (like myself) who were discovering themselves and their sexuality at the time.

Avatar: the Last Airbender (ATLA) was made for 8-13 year olds (from season 1), and I would argue that LoK was made for that same group of people, who would have then been 14-19 years old when LoK first aired. Thus, LoK was being watched by those entering high school and college––a time of self-discovery.

Additionally, a critique that LoK doesn’t do enough leads to an idea that there is “a right way” to create a LGBTQ+ relationship, which I would argue is harmful to the community at large. If you did not identify with Korra’s coming out, that’s completely valid. If you did not identify with the way the Korrasami relationship progressed, that is also valid. But you cannot invalidate the relationship of Korrasami, as a relationship built off a friendship and mutual respect that blossomed by into something more. The relationship was not sexualized with wistful glances and blatant sexual tension, instead, it was built on a friendship and respect for boundaries.

Again, multiple narratives can be drawn given each viewer has a unique set of experiences. One such reading could show that Asami was more in tune with her feelings for Korra than Korra was about her feelings for Asami. And, instead of flirting non-stop with Korra, Asami respects Korra’s space (though we all saw her check out Korra’s back muscles) and recognizes that Korra has a lot on her plate being the avatar, a relationship is not something on the forefront of her mind. It is only after defeating Kuvira (and the healing/growth from a few episodes prior in "Beyond the Wilds”) that Korra is able to truly understand her feelings to Asami, suggesting they take a trip together––just the two of them.

Now, you may not identify with that type of coming out, but other people do. And to argue that “LoK didn’t make Korrasami explicit enough” undermines the experiences of those in the LGBTQ+ who heavily identified with Korra’s experiences and her coming out.

Holding LGBTQ+ media to this higher standard is inherently toxic. I would like to believe that these creators are coming from a good place with good intentions. There is nothing toxic or abusive in the way Korrasami is portrayed. There is nothing unrealistic about the way their relationship progressed throughout the series. It was not a fan service––it was the natural progression of the characters.

And let’s not forget that Korrasami is not only confirming a relationship between two women, but it is also two women of color. Now, it may not seem like a huge deal within the contexts of the Avatar World, but it is important to remember the context of where this show was airing.

There are things we can critique LoK on. It isn’t perfect. We can discuss the hiring of white voice actors (as a way to hold new media that is being created or will be created accountable, not as a way to just hate on LoK); we can discuss the voices within the writers room and the lack of diversity there. These are critiques that can be made of ATLA and LoK and countless of other media produced. This is a valid critique when used constructively. It is not meant to tear down an entire piece of media and everything that it has done for various communities, but rather to point to a flaw within the way media is being produced and the racist, sexist, and homophobic systems in place that determine what and how media is produced.

If we are to critique, we could look to reimagining how we create and consume media, not tearing down media that has already been produced and stands in a pivotal spot of the community. As Audre Lorde says:

For the master's tools will never dismantle the master's house.

If we are continually operating within the systems of oppression, we will never truly be able to dismantle them. Thus, to operate within the institutions of Nickelodeon, Netflix, Disney, etc. is to be beholden to the rules and constraints of a moderate, heteronormative, sexist, racist society. If creators stray too far from that line too quickly, there will be backlash. The perfect LGBTQ+ representation cannot exist while made within these institutions.

I would like to mention this statement is not to say that we cannot critique or boycott movies or shows that are performative in their diversity. There is no excuse for Hollywood after the successes of Black Panther (2018) and Crazy Rich Asians (2018) (and others) to not fill the crew and writers with the same representation being shown on the screen. We can, and should, hold production companies accountable––and given the internet, it is something we can do even early on in the production process.

I have gotten a little off track, but my point is, think about your critiques. Really ask yourself if it is a productive critique, or if it is critique that actually harms or is toxic to the community. Critiques are hard, I understand that. When we first start to think critically, it is easy to just jump on these “low hanging fruit” type critiques. It takes practice and comfortability learning and expanding your world view to construct a critique that looks at context from various point of views and experiences.

[bellafarella]

Soooo I very obviously don’t know the whole situation with Noel but I read some of your asks and I saw people saying that they wished he would have made a more public statement regarding the “situation” to like apologize (???? Hopefully I’m not confusing you bc I very honestly am still trying to catch up myself lol) And I don’t like to make excuses for anyone but we all know he’s not active on social media unless he’s promoting his jobs and also I think that his age plays a factor in why he didn’t feel the need to make a big to-do or announcement. I doubt he’s following any young influencers who make notes app apologies 24/7 just to settle down their scandals, SOOO I honestly think that him unfollowing the cop was his way of righting his wrongs. I don’t think it even occurred to him that “hey the teens who follow me want me to write an explanation and apology”. I can say for myself that not even I know who I’m following half the time and once I see something on my feed that’s the only way I’m really aware of who I’ve chosen to follow. This year a lot of ppls true colors have been shown based on their political opinions and even their stances on blm and as a black female I took it among myself to unfollow ppl who did not support me and who were overall just not people I want to associate myself with. BUT GOING BACK ON TOPIC (sorry for the rant) with social media we only see what ppl WANT us to see so you’re following wtv image they’ve presented to the world unknowing of who these ppl really are. Once again idk the ins and outs of what happened but as far as I can tell so far is he happened to be following a bad person and when he realized that he unfollowed them. I don’t see why that needs to be hyper analyzed and dragged out. Cancel culture leaves absolutely no room to see both sides of any situation and in situations of blatant racism and homophobia an explanation is not needed but for something as vague as who someone’s following even after they’ve unfollowed them, I truly don’t think that this warrants a big to-do and ESPECIALLY not death threats. (Ik this is long and all over the place so feel free not to post it but I just wanted to get this out bc from the little bit I have learned this seems a bit blown out of proportion and I hope me saying thag doesn’t offend anyone)

All. Of. This.

Thank you! I agree. I think his age and how he's never usually on social media play a huge part in it. He unfollowed when he realized that person was problematic. I don't feel the need to announce every time I unfollow someone because I saw some shit I dont agree with. I get its different cause he's famous and I'm not but like noel doesn't use social media like all of us and influencers do. He uses it to promote his acting and when it was time to vote he promoted getting out there and voting to make a difference.

Cancel culture is very extreme and not always warranted. Yes for known racists, homophobes, antisemites, rapists, etc, cancel them and keep them accountable for their actions, but to wanna cancel someone for someone they followed when we don't know for a fact he even knows this person irl or if he even knew he was problematic.

Unfollowing, muting, and blocking people is the way to go. If you notice someone you're following posting shit you don't agree with or not posting when it comes to issues you care deeply about then please unfollow them, mute them or block them so you don't have to see them pop up again.

I literally cut a friend loose after almost a decade and blocked her on all social media. I didn't agree with anything she said when it came to covid or the BLM protests and then when I had surgery she didn't message me once. She isn't someone I need in my life. If I could cut someone out whos been in my life for that long, you can definitely unfollow some random ass person on social media because you don't agree with their opinions, politics, or whatever.

Anyways now I went off on a tangent LOL all this to say thank you for sharing and I agree with you!

[exhaustedfander]

First Comes Love: Chapter Nine

Word Count: 4,571

a03 link

Link to previous story in the series: When is Enough Enough?

1  / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / ?

Summary: Remus and Roman do what they can to comfort Patton. Tears are shed, emotions run high, and Remus realizes, among other things, that he is fully capable of comforting his friends.

Tw: Homophobia/homophobic parents

Remus couldn’t help but feel like a fish out of water, sitting in his car in front of Janus and Patton’s apartment complex, waiting for Roman to arrive. That had always been a very striking metaphor to him; the idea of a fish flopping around on dry land, desperate for water it can no longer reach, drowning on oxygen. It was something that would usually amuse him quite a bit. It didn’t now.

Comforting was a word very few people would use to describe Remus. Crude? Yes. Intrusive, impulsive, and strange? Oh, absolutely. But comforting? Logan might use such a descriptor, but that was only because he saw such a gentle side of the writer. Remus hadn’t always been the best at dealing with his own shit, so the issues of those close to him were something he was no expert with. In fact, he handled such issues with no poise at all, as far as he was concerned. 

There had been many instances in which Logan had assured him that he’d made him feel better and provided him solace, but that was different. Remus was soft with Logan by default, something he’d never really known how to be with other people. 

So, yeah, he could comfort Logan most of the time without panicking. But Patton? He wasn’t so sure. 

Remus was thankful to have his panicking interrupted when he heard a tap on the car window and turned to see Roman on the other side with a grocery bag in hand. Remus opened the door and stepped out.

“Hey bro,” Remus said, knowing instantly how deflated his voice sounded. Remus set his bag on the pavement, scooping Roman into a tight hug. For a moment, Remus was thrown off before simply sinking into the embrace of his twin, knowing he was trembling just slightly.

“Hey, how are you doing?” It felt wrong to be asked that, all things considered, but Remus supposed it made sense. Roman had been expecting him to be an engaged man by today just as much as he had.

“I’m fine,” Remus lied, poorly, but Roman was hardly in a position to argue against him, “Don’t worry about me right now.”

“Virgil and I would be more than happy to do a redo party later if you want. I know you came so close to… well, it just feels like you got so cheated out of your fairytale ending and I’m sorry,” Roman said as he pulled away. Remus shook his head, touched by his brother’s offer, nonetheless.

“Like I said, man, let’s not worry about me right now. And I couldn’t ask that of you again; it isn’t your guys’ fault. So,” Remus said, the image of a fish out of water still persistent in his mind, a goldfish that leaped out of its tank only to die writhing on the carpet, “What’s in the bag?”

“Cookies, ice cream, all kinds of goodies,” Roman explained, picking the paper bag up off the floor, “I dunno, I figured a little junk food couldn’t hurt right now.” Remus nodded approvingly. 

“Good call.” Concern flashed in Roman’s eyes. Remus cursed himself silently; absolutely everything about him was probably giving away how nervous he felt.

“Are you ready for this?” Remus wanted to say yes with the utmost confidence. He wanted to assure him that he was more than prepared for whatever this might entail, but that would be a blatant lie.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. The worry in Roman’s eyes deepened. “No, I’m not cut out for this shit at all, making people feel better and all that. But… I’m gonna try. Logan encouraged this and if he says I can do this, then fuck it, I’m just gonna hope he’s right. He usually is.”

“Oh, Remus,” Roman said, his voice too soft for Remus’s liking, too kind, “Of course you can be comforting. You’re rough around the edges, and a real pain in the ass sometimes, but that doesn’t make you a bad friend. And you aren’t alone, either. We’ve got this, both of us.” 

Roman said it with such confidence, as though it was obvious that Remus would be able to handle this. Remus couldn’t tell if his brother was really that proficient of an actor that a lie could come out so believable, or if he meant it with the utmost sincerity. Remus sincerely hoped it was the second option. He took a deep breath, nodding, not so much in agreement, but more of a hope that one day he’d be able to agree.

“I hope you’re right. Think this is gonna stir up some shitty childhood memories?” Remus already knew the answer, but that didn’t stop him from asking. Roman shuddered.

“Oh, definitely. This is gonna suck, a lot. But Patton’s our friend, and we owe it to him to be there for him, no matter how bittery, jittery, and less-than-glittery it makes us feel.” Despite the nonchalance he presented, there was fear in Roman’s voice, a kind Remus hadn’t heard from him in such a long time. It was scary, realizing even Roman, the greatest pretender he knew, couldn’t hide how horrible everything felt. At the same time, knowing he felt the same provided Remus very much some twisted sense of comfort. He wasn’t alone, not at all, and together they were going to try their best to get through this. 

The twins walked up to the door together, shuffling anxiously once Remus had rapped on the door. It opened, revealing Janus whose eyes shone with relief when he caught sight of them.

“Thank you two so much for coming,” he said, not an ounce of his usual sarcasm in his tone. Neither twin had ever seen Janus in such a state, looking so tired and so, so worried. Patton brought out a much softer side in him then he cared to expose, and at this point, he didn’t know how to shut it off. Patton was Janus’s angel, and his angel was in worse shape than he’d been in a very long time, something that Janus couldn’t miraculously fix, no matter how much he desperately wanted to.

“How’s he doing?” Roman whispered as they walked into the apartment, not sure how near Patton was and not wanting him to hear them talking about him. Janus shook his head, running a hand along the side of his face, the side with the jagged scar he’d had since he was a kid that Remus couldn’t recall the origin of. If it weren’t such a somber instance, he might’ve flipped his shirt up and pointed at his own marring, saying “EH, scar buds!” Needless to say, he didn’t do that.

“He’s devastated, of course,” Janus said with a sigh, matching Roman’s quiet volume, “I’ve never seen him so sad. I… I just don’t know what to say. I want to fix this for him, so much. More than anything, I want to give those sorry excuses for parents a piece of my mind,” Janus’s voice swelled with anger, the first spark of a fire that was sure to burn the apartment complex to the ground. Even so, the flames receded as quickly as they’d appeared as he shook his head, “But I know that wouldn’t do any good.”

“No,” Remus agreed sadly, “It really wouldn’t. I know the feeling, but at the end of the day, it makes things a lot worse.” Janus exhaled sharply, eyes landing on the grocery bag.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Some sweets,” Roman explained, handing it over, “I know it’s a little early for ice cream and cookies, but I figured it might cheer him up, at least a little bit.” A fracture of a smile interrupted Janus’s troubled features, though only for a moment. 

“Thank you, Roman,” he said, “That was kind of you. Thank you both; I can’t express how thankful I am that you’ve offered to be here.”

“Of course,” Remus said, trying his hardest not to think of the goldfish.

“Where’s Pat?” Janus pointed in the direction of the living room. 

“I’m sure you already know, but he’s very fragile right now. I know I’m probably being overprotective of him, but he –.”

“Hey,” Roman interrupted, his voice understanding and gentle, “It’s okay, Janus. We’ll go easy on him, promise. We just want to help.” That seemed to ease the tension in Janus’s shoulders somewhat as he nodded. Slowly, he walked into the living room and the twins followed behind him. 

Patton was sitting on the sofa, a tissue box nearby that looked to have been almost completely used. He was wearing his Cat onesie instead of his usual polo shirt and cardigan, a sight that would usually be a joyous one. Patton loved to have everyone over for movie nights, insisting that they all wear onesies, which made it very reminiscent of sleepovers. Now, though, it was nothing more than a weak attempt at comforting himself. The sparkle in Patton’s eyes was replaced with dull, horrible heartbreak, and his cheeks were streaked with tear-tracks. 

“Roman and Remus are here, Angel,” Janus said, his voice achingly soft as he pressed a kiss to Patton’s cheek. Patton looked at the twins standing in the doorway, the expression on his face impossibly sad.

“Hi, Roman… Remus. Sorry… I’m not feeling very much like myself,” Patton said slowly. His voice was so raw it made Remus think of someone swallowing shards of glass, cutting their way down his esophagus. He did his best to shake the thought from his mind.

“That’s okay, Pat,” Roman said, sitting down on Patton’s left side. Hesitantly, Remus sunk into the sofa on Patton’s right.

“I’m going to leave you boys, to it, but I’ll bring snacks out later,” Janus said hesitantly, looking like he wanted nothing than to stay glued to Patton’s side for the rest of time. Despite that impulse, he also knew he needed to give them space.

“Okay, Janny,” Patton said, watching as Janus disappeared into the other room. Patton sighed as his gaze met Remus's.

“Remus, kiddo, I’m so sorry… I made such a mess of you and Logan’s party.” The fact that even in his anguish Patton could still feel such responsibility for something he hadn’t been the cause of was heartbreaking. Remus shook his head quickly, clumsily taking one of Patton’s hands in his own.

“Hey, no. Don’t say that, Pattycake,” Remus said, hoping his sincerity was breaking through the barrier of fear that encased him, “You didn’t do anything wrong, and you certainly didn’t make a mess. It isn’t your fault, none of this is.” Patton nodded, though the tired expression he wore suggested he didn’t agree with Remus’s sentiment. 

“But I still can’t help but feel –.”

“I know,” Remus interrupted, seeing the surprise in Patton’s pale blue eyes, “I know it feels like it might be your fault. But it really isn’t. Please, don’t blame yourself for your parent’s horrible actions.” Patton’s face crumpled at the mention of them, but Remus knew someone was going to have to get the words out for any progress to be made.

“Words are so hard sometimes…” Patton mumbled as Remus squeezed his hand gently, “There’s so much I want to say about them… but it’s just hard. Why does it have to be like that?” 

“You can tell us anything you want,” Roman spoke up, placing a hand on Patton’s shoulder, the gesture just above a hover in case Patton pulled away. He didn’t. “And you don’t need to talk about anything that’s too much for you. We’re here for you, Pat, in anything you want to tell us. We know how it feels.” Patton nodded sadly, his eyes landing on his lap. 

“I thought…” Patton began, his voice tender, “I thought for sure they were gonna come around. I mean, they said they would. They said a lot of things…” 

“Of course you thought that,” Roman said, “That makes sense. They gave you a false sense of security.” Patton shivered.

“Not at first. When I came out to them t-they were so cruel. They called me sick, they said how much they wanted to help me, to fix me. But the things they offered… they… they were just gonna make me feel so much worse. It had been so hard to hide, and I was so sad, all the time, pretending.” Roman’s eyes flickered with understanding.

“I know how you felt,” he said, speech thick with twisted memories, “I pretended too. Throughout high school, I dated girls, I did everything I could to make people think I was straight. And it hurt, all of the time.” Patton nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek.

“It was hard,” he said with a sniffle, “I – just wanted to make my parents happy. I thought if I just kept pretending that eventually, I’d, I dunno, get used to it. But… I didn’t. It just felt worse and worse and I just felt like exploding all the time. So,” Patton sucked in a breath, “I told them. A-and they were so angry and hurt by it, it felt like I was something so terrible.”

“You aren’t,” Remus assured, “You’re nothing of the sort. I’ve known terrible people, I’ve had my moments of being terrible, and that isn’t you at all, Pat. You’re one of the best people I know.” Patton worried his bottom lip. 

“I don’t know about that.”

“He’s right,” Roman said, “You’re a wonderful person, Patton. One of the very best life has to offer. You make everyone around you happy just by being you. There’s not a single terrible thing in you, and certainly not because your parents don’t approve of you going for princes rather than a princess.” 

“I just… they started getting better after that,” Patton said, wiping at his eyes, “At least it seemed like it. They stopped talking about fixing me, they s-said they wanted to make things right. And when I started seeing Janus, well, I didn’t realize how unhappy I’d been before that. I didn’t know real happiness could feel so good. And t-they allowed me to bring him home, several times, a-and they told me they were trying. They lied – they lied to me over, and over again.”

“They did,” Remus said, the sorrow in Patton’s voice tearing him up inside so much he could almost forget about the goldfish completely, “They lied to you and I’m so sorry for that. They had no right to do that to you.”

“I don’t like lies… I don’t like it when people keep things from me. And the entire time they thought I was just gonna stop being gay one day,” Patton wept, “And t-then my mom told me that – that if I ever wanted to see them again t-that I couldn’t be with Janus anymore. They tried to take him away from me! H-how could they do that? How could they try to take my h-happiness away from me again? How can they be so cruel?!” Patton let go of Remus’s hand and threw his arms around Roman, burying his face in his shoulder. Roman accepted the hug quickly, rubbing circles into Patton’s back as he cried. 

“I don’t know,” Roman said, the loss for words terrible, “I’m sorry I don’t have a better answer for you, Patton. I wish I did. But I just don’t know how anyone could do that to someone, much less their child.”

“What did you say to your mom when she told you that?” Remus asked after Patton had taken a moment to calm down. Patton scrubbed at his face, still leaning heavily on Roman.

“I – I said I couldn’t leave Jan. I told her he’s the light of my life, and that I love him, just like she loves my dad. For a second I-I thought maybe saying that would help, but it didn’t. Of course, it's d-didn’t. She just got angrier and angrier and i-it was too late for anything else. That was it. I-I can’t go back home. I can’t face them again,” a shudder ran through Patton’s spine as he continued, “I don’t want to. Not a-anymore.”

“I know this is horrible,” Remus spoke up, “And I wish I could say that it’s going to be all better right away. It isn’t. But I want you to know I’m proud of you for saying that. That you don’t want to go back. I know it’s so fucking hard, but that’s good, Pat. These are people who’ve hurt you for so long, and they don’t get to do that anymore. You never deserved that.”

“Janny kept telling me they were still hurting me,” Patton said with a sniffle, “He told me that they were being cruel, but I wouldn’t listen. I should have. I should’ve known…” Both twins shook their heads.

“No,” Roman said quickly, “Please don’t say you should’ve known. Pat, you don’t know how many times I told myself the very same thing. That I should’ve known my parents weren’t going to change, that hiding wasn’t doing anything but making me miserable. I promise you, saying that doesn’t do any good.”

“But I should’ve listened. He was right.”

“You were clinging to the hope that things were going to be alright,” Remus cut in, “It didn’t matter what Janus said, it wouldn’t have changed the fact that you had hope that you and your parents could mend the relationship. Don’t beat yourself up about that, it’s okay.”

“I just wanted everything to be okay,” Patton muttered softly, “I was so sure…”

“Things will be okay again, Pat,” Roman said, pulling Patton against him in a side hug, “Not right now, but eventually, I promise they will.”

“What made it okay for you guys?” Patton asked after a moment, the smallest fragment of hope present in his voice.

“Surrounding myself with good people was the biggest thing,” Roman said, “And you’ve got that. You have a partner who loves you so, so much. And friends who love you too. We love you, Patton, and we’re here for you.” 

“We are,” Remus said with a nod.

Remus couldn’t help but let his mind wander for a moment, to a time years ago. He and Roman were nineteen when they’d been disowned, and shortly after that, they hadn’t been on good terms. Remus hadn’t thought about it in so long, now twenty-seven with incredible friends and the best boyfriend a person could ask for, but when he’d been abandoned by his parents, Remus had been alone. Not entirely, he’d had acquaintances along the way, partners who hadn’t stuck around long. But for the most part, he hadn’t had the good friends Roman had quickly gained. He hadn’t had Patton or Virgil. He hadn’t had Janus, Remy, or Emile. He hadn’t had Logan. 

For so much of his time at home, Remus had known eventually he and his parents would cut ties for good. But remembering suddenly and vividly how truly alone he’d been hit him with immeasurable weight. “Surround yourself with good people,” Roman said now, but he didn’t. Not for years. Not until Logan. 

He should’ve tried harder to fix things with Roman sooner, he thought to himself. He should’ve tried to forge stronger relationships. Should’ve, should’ve, should’ve. But should is a dirty word. “Should” made it seem like Remus had any idea the kind of hell he’d been putting himself through at the time. He hadn’t; he was dealing with all his shit in the ways he knew how. He didn’t have support then, he remembered, but he had it now. He had good friends, he had Logan, he had love. And thankfully, in this time Patton had that too. 

“Yeah,” Patton said after a moment, “Yeah I do. I’ve got Jan, I’ve got you guys. I’m really, really sad… but I’m not gonna be sad forever, am I?” 

“No,” Roman said, “You won’t. You’ll need time to heal, and it’ll hurt, but you’re gonna get happy again, Pat. And we’ll be here every step of the way.” Tears sprung from Patton’s eyes once more, this time not out of sadness alone, but also relief.

“I love you guys s-so much,” Patton blubbered, his arms winding around both twins. For a moment, Remus stiffened. Patton said, “you guys,” which meant both of them. Patton loved Remus. He hadn’t taken the time to consider it, the fact that a friend could love him, that Patton could love him. 

He’d been so used to such kind words not being spoken in his presence before Logan, before love had dominated his life. But to think that this person, so wonderful and kind and full of light, had love in his heart for all of his friends, including him. Well, Remus thought his chest might just burst from how much sentimentality welled up in him. He returned the awkward embrace as quickly as he could manage, clinging to Roman and Patton.

“We love you too, Pat,” he said it was true. Remus loved his friend and his friend loved him. In retrospect, it was such a simple thing, not the kind to be scrutinized so closely but he couldn’t help it. Roman said he loved Patton too, but Remus’s ears were still ringing with the words. The sorrow of his long-time-loneliness wasn’t irradiated, but the joy that filled him served as a damn good distraction. 

Suddenly, Janus reappeared from the kitchen holding a tray of the sweets that Roman had brought, setting it down and joining the three in the living room. Roman and Remus made room so that Janus could sit with Patton, who clambered into his lap and buried his face in his neck.

To call such a love sin defied all logic. So few loves rivaled this, so few were as soft, as touchingly gentle, as pure. 

The group ate and talked, the tension that hung thick in the air dispersing little by little. It wouldn’t be gone completely for a long time, if ever, but it was lessening and that was all that anyone could hope for. It would take time, but Patton was going to be okay. It was obvious looking at him and Janus that his heart would not be void of joy. As horrible as it was to think about, Patton no longer being in contact with his parents would do him so much good in the end. They didn’t have their hooks in him like they used to, they couldn’t cause him any further suffering. Patton would grow without them, allowed finally and freely to be as happy as he deserved to be.

Remus and Roman bid the couple goodbye several hours into their stay, leaving the apartment together. As they walked to their cars, Roman stopped.

“I realize… I never properly thanked you, all those years ago.” Remus rose an eyebrow.

“For what?”

“For giving me the courage I needed to be myself,” Roman said with an appreciative smile, “You being so open and honest about yourself was the final push to me coming out. Without you… I don’t know when I would’ve been able to do it. So, thank you for that. I love you, Remus. I know we haven’t always gotten along, but you’re the best brother a guy could ask for as far as I’m concerned.” 

After how emotional the day had been, it seemed that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Remus sniffled, hugging his brother and thinking of the overwhelming amounts of love he’d been exposed to in the last few hours.

“Of course,” he said hoarsely, “Y-you’re welcome. I love you too, you loser.” Roman chuckled, the sound watery. At least Remus wasn’t crying alone.

“Are you okay, after all that?” Roman asked as they pulled apart. 

“Not really,” Remus said. “You?” Roman laughed without much humor to it, shaking his head.

“No, I suppose not,” Roman replied sadly, “But I’m glad we did that. It seemed like it helped.” 

“Yeah,” Remus said, still in a bit of disbelief, “It really did.” Roman shoved his shoulder lightly.

“And you were worried you weren’t gonna be able to help,” he teased, 

“Look at how good you did! Grad A comforting skills.”

“Yeah, well, you helped a lot.”

“Well then we’ve both got Grad A comforting skills,” he said confidently, though the assurance felt a little forced, “You gonna be okay, though?”

"I’ll be fine,” Remus said, “Same goes for you. Head all full of shitty memories?” Roman nodded sadly.

“You know it. I’m going home and cuddling Virgil until I can push it out of my mind a little bit more. I haven’t thought about all this in quite a long time.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Roman quirked an eyebrow.

“Cuddling with my boyfriend sounds like a plan?” Remus barked out a laugh.

“That’s right, I’m moving in on your mans. My relationship with Logan was all a clever ruse to seduce Virgil all along.” Roman slapped a hand over his mouth.

“And to think! I was none the wiser! How dare you, sir? I’ll have you know I love that man more than life itself!” Roman said as dramatic as possible. Remus appreciated the attempt at being light-hearted.

“Seriously, though, I’m not allowing Logan to leave my arms when I get home because I feel like shit.” Roman nodded understandingly. 

“Now there’s a sentiment I can get behind.” Roman paused for a moment before speaking again. “So… what’s your plan on becoming betrothed to our resident nerd?” Remus rubbed the back of his neck, sighing.

“Honestly, dude, I’ve got no fucking clue. But I’ll figure it out,” Remus said. 

The prospect should’ve terrified him. He presently had zero plan as to how he was going to ask Logan to be his husband. But somehow, even after the deeply emotional day he’d had, he wasn’t scared. Remus wasn’t usually the person to assume that everything would work out somehow, but he couldn’t help but know it to be true. He loved Logan more than he’d loved anyone or anything else in his life. Logan had brought him so many good things in the short time he’d known him. He’d provided him the support, understanding, and love he didn’t know he’d been missing. He’d brought him wonderful friendships; he’d brought his brother back to him. Remus had nearly been killed by a car, and yet he’d lived, and Logan was still by his side. As far as he was concerned, Logan always would be.

“Well I wish you the absolute best of luck,” Roman said sincerely, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an emo to cuddle with.” 

And with that, the two drove home. Roman to Virgil and Remus to Logan. Both brothers sought comfort in their boyfriends, still battling the demons of their past, demons they’d never truly be able to escape. And even still, they were met with just the love and understanding they needed, enough to keep the monsters at bay.

Remus would propose to Logan very soon, that he was sure of. But for now, he accepted his place in Logan’s arms, clinging for dear life and thinking only of the love that had become all-consuming, a chaos he embraced with open arms.

=+=

[emisfritish]

Emma, as a local Tay Tawan lover, what do you think of all the things that came up today ? I'm sad and curious to know ur opinion about his tweet =(

Hi dear anon,

I’m sorry for only answering this ask now, I’ve been trying to sort out my feelings and my thoughts. I’ve also been trying to separate the obvious bias I have for Tay and my love for him, from what I personally know and believe intellectually in order to not let my feelings for this actor in particular cloud my judgement.

Here’s what I came up with, and sorry for the mess that I’m about to post : First I won’t sum up the whole situation that happened today with some GMMTV actors, because if you’re on tumblr you’ve probably seen it, and some other blogs have already explained it way better than I could have. Coming from some of these actors I can’t really lie and say I’m surprised (it’s far from the first time they’ve said problematic/homophobic shit). Coming from some others, like Singto for instance, who I actually really respected... yeah. I’m angry and disappointed, and trying to work through that.

Now onto what Tay tweeted after videos from the three actors resurfaced. First off, here’s the actual translation from his tweet, for reference :

"We've all encountered a moment where we made mistakes or we were stupid. However, life is about growing up and learning new matters. So, remain in the present and learn to forgive yourself and others."

Now we don’t know exactly what the tweet was referring to, he never mentions anyone by name, but yeah, I think it’s safe to assume it is in fact about the whole situation. I’ll put my thoughts under a cut because this got LONG. 

I won’t lie, I’m very torn about the tweet. I’m torn between the emotional side of my brain that is disappointed and sad that he felt the need to tweet that to defend some of the highly problematic stuff that was said, and with the rational part of my brain that also fundamentally agrees with some of the ideas behind the tweet, whether they were expressed well or not, that’s not for me to judge.

Here’s what I disagree with : ‘Remain in the present and learn to forgive’ > The fact that those videos are dated for some of them certainly doesn’t mean that blatant homophobia or misogynistic/transphobic behaviour should be swipped under the rug and forgotten and forgiven. It’s not how it works, and those actors need to understand why what they said was wrong and be held accountable for it.

Him being the actor I love the most and deeply respect won’t stop me from calling him off on why I think it was  wrong : It was in poor taste, these men are all grown men and they’re capable of rational thought and should in fact be held accountable and apologize for their actions or words. It’s not Tay’s job to apologize for them if they won’t even apologize themselves.

On the other hand, I also really do hate cancel culture with a passion and I think it does nothing to help the situation long term, and I do believe in the fundamental idea behind the tweet > educating people is the most important, and what is going to help us evolve as a society. We learn new things everyday, I know I for sure deeply regret some of the stuff I said in the past and I’m sure most of us do too.  People have different cultural backgrounds, different upbringings that shaped the way they see the world, and if I do believe that calling off people on the problematic stuff they say is HIGHLY important and what will change things and mentalities, I also believe in allowing these people a chance to learn and grow without cancelling them.

(NB: This idea has one very noticeable exception for one of the three actors that has repeatedly said numerous problematic things for years, been called off on it, and yet has been unwilling to learn. At one point, it’s not about educating him anymore, it’s about acknowledging the fact that he doesn’t want to learn because he doesn’t think he is wrong, and that’s a whole other issue.).

To explain why this is one of my strongest beliefs, I have to go a little personal here, so bear with me: I am lucky enough to have a family that is all in all very open-minded. But one day we were having dinner with my family and a transgender woman was eating at a table not far from us and my father made a couple jokes about that person that were in very bad taste. Let me tell you... I saw red. I couldn’t utter a word the rest of the evening and my hands were actually shaking with anger. My father, one of the people I respect the most in the world, really made that joke. When we came home, I was so mad I couldn’t talk so I went straight to my room and it was my mum (wise woman that she is) that came to talk to me and said that I couldn’t just not say anything to him and that I had to talk to him and explain why what he said was wrong. Because if not me, then who ? So I did. And yeah... It was the most uncomfortable/tense conversation I have ever had with my father. I cried through almost all of it and it kind of shattered the “idealistic” image I had of him. At the end of the day though? I won, and my mum was right. Because I managed to make my father understand why what he said was wrong, and my father has NEVER made another such joke since then and has actually been vocal to people around him about why such jokes are problematic.

LONG STORY SHORT (and sorry for this anon, it’s more than you asked for...) : I believe that some of the stuff that has resurfaced is appalling and there is no excuse for the stuff that was said, no matter how old it might be, and in that, I do wish Tay hadn’t tried to apologize for them or make excuses, if that was his intention. I’m seeing an actor I loved (Singto) in a whole new light because of that joke and nothing can excuse those jokes. But I also agree with the idea that educating people and explaining where they went wrong will always be more powerful and useful in creating a better society than hating and cancelling them will. That this is how we grow and we evolve as a society (where let’s be real, misogynistic/homophobic/transphobic ideas are still very present).

These people needed to be called off for the problematic things they said/did and they should absolutely be held accountable for them, but we also have to educate them on why what they said/did was wrong and for that, we have to allow them the chance to actually listen to us and hear us.

[koryuoftheriverflow]

Cap’s always been a gay icon. I wish Endgame had remembered that.

After the movie I couldn’t help but feel betrayed by that ending, for various reasons: chief among them was the blatant disregard for the subtext present in the 3 cap movies. 

Cap’s character has been interpreted as bisexual for a very long time now (first in the comics and then in the MCU), and for a reason. 

We all knew nothing was gonna happen between Steve and Bucky, but we also didn’t suspect that we were going to be given a healty dose of no homo. Because that’s ultimately what poor Peggy was reduced to.

I can only assume it was done to put the nail in the gay coffin once and for all, after the debate that happened in the last couple of years about Steve’s relationship with Bucky in the movies and also in the comics. We all remember the reviews after The Winter Soldier and Civil War, the #givecapaboyfriend thing on twitter and the 180 Marvel pulled on Planet Hulk, going as far as to change an actual panel because Steve and Bucky were holding hands in victory in it. Like, the straights are wild.

So, I wasn’t expecting much from the announcement that we were getting a gay character in Endgame: I already suspected they were going to be minor. But, in light of that ending, I think Joe Russo’s character was only there to avoid accusations of homophobia. And it’s honestly disheartening because that scene could have been great! 

Let me explain.

Again, I’m not delusional enough to believe that they would make Steve canonically bisexual: I know the world we live in and the company that owns the MCU. But! Captain America has been a gay icon for decades and it would have been nice to see him at least show support, or acknowledge in some way that he understood the man’s struggle. 

I say this, because everytime gay rep is brought up in relation to Cap, I remember one of my favourite issues from the comics.

In Volume 1 #296, Cap is trying to save his childhood friend Arnie Roth (MCU!Bucky is a mix of the Bucky from the comics and Arnie, in this regard) who’s been kidnapped by Baron Zemo and Mother Superior. In a previous issue Arnie’s boyfriend Michael had been abducted as well.

Cap goes to the rescue!

When Cap finds Arnie, he is under some kind of mind control and gives a speech about how being gay is something shameful; he says that the nazis were right to lock them away in the camps and that their love isn’t real and natural. He then accuses Steve of being homosexual as well. Why would he still be his friend otherwise? At this point, Arnie manages to overcome the brainwashing (I wonder who else fought being mind controlled for Steve...)

Cap finally breaks down the barrier put in place by Zemo and Mother Superior to stop him from rescuing his friend. Arnie is drained and collapses in front of him.

Now here comes my favourite part.

Captain America gently cradles his friend in his arms and tells him that his love for Michael is pure and exactly the same as his love for Bernie (Cap’s girlfriend at the time). It is the people who don’t accept him the ones who should be ashamed. Steve’s mind then goes immediately to Bucky who, like Michael (unfortunately dead) is another victim in his “private little war”. It’s not explicitly spelled out, obviously, but it’s very telling that Cap, who’s been accused in the previous panel of being “one of us” immediately thinks about his long lost friend in relation to a gay couple. Just saying...

Now, shipping goggles aside, I think it is very interesting that Cap defines homophobes as a disease. The choice of words isn’t casual at all.

This issue is from August 1984. Let that sink in. 

We’re in the middle of the AIDS epidemic, at a time when Reagan was happy to let the gay community die and this disease was still called GRID. And yet! Captain America, symbol of the nation, was fighting tooth and nail to save his openly gay friend from the clutches of Nazi monsters who didn’t accept him or his love for another man. 

Steve not only defends his friend, but draws a perfect parallel between Arnie’s gay relationship with Michael and his love story with a woman, effectively equating these two types of bond, no differences at all between the two.

So you understand now why I am genuinly upset that in the year of our Lord 2019 we got this sorry excuse of representation, and a regression of Steve’s character that ignores all the subtext built up in his 3 solo movies for the sake of a heterosexual relationship that was over before even starting. 

When a comic book from 35 years ago, from what has been one of the darkest moments in queer history, treats the gay community with a compassion and respect that are totally lacking in a movie filmed in the allegedly modern days of meaningful representation, well... you know that something’s rotten.

[authentic-and-confused]

Just a little TED talk

Last school year in the spring my English teacher presented our class with a challenge:  Create a TED talk about something you’re passionate about. It seems easy, right? Well. For me, it wasn't. I knew immediately that I wanted to talk about the issues  LGBT  youth face, but I didn't know how. I’ve gotten so much hate for my orientation and identity that, even with the things I’m publically out and proud with, I live in constant fear of ridicule and hate. Let me tell you, this is no way to live. Eventually, though, I figured it out. Religion. I just knew my TED talk project had to involve religion.

At the time my mother was using religion against me in many ways and shaming me for my choices. I was facing a lot of subtle hates at school and I just knew I wasn't the only one. The more I thought about it though, the more I realized that, at least with the kids my age, it was mostly because they simply didn't know! So just like that, I had my topic - my purpose. Educate the other youth of my school and motivate them to do better, and stand up against hate of all kinds.  

Don't get me wrong, I was still scared out of my mind. I’d been called out in that very class a few times for my  LGBT involvement, but somehow this desire, this need to make the world a better place for other  LGBT  youth took over, even if it was in the smallest way. The words to my script just... flowed out of me. I knew what I needed to say and how to say it. At first, I wasn't even planning on using my own experiences, but without them, the talk felt empty - like I was speaking from a detached point of view.

Soon enough, the day came to submit our talks via video, but for me that just... Didn't feel right. For some reason, I felt like my teacher needed to hear it in person. So I asked if instead, I could come present to her directly before school. She said yes, so two days later I did. I showed up to school early on the day of a funeral for the man who had appointed himself my grandpa the moment he found out the way one of my others treated me.

I literally gave my talk in funeral clothes.

by the end, my teacher was crying. The tears weren't just in her eyes the way some teachers get during certain presentations, but actually falling down her cheeks.

I hadn't realized how powerful my message could be yet, and had actually recently started to doubt it due to the reactions of a few strangers when I practiced giving it to my friends on a train. She said I should still make a video, post it to youtube or something. I considered it, really I did. but doubtful thoughts started to creep into my mind. Was it really a message people needed to hear? Was I the right one to give it?

I hit a really rough patch of my life, and I went to a really dark place. Most days I’m still there. Floating scared and lonely in the dark. I’d found out the world could be even darker than I’d ever thought possible and lost all hope of finding a light. The only reason I didn't end it all was that there were two people I knew it would crush. My best friend in the entire world who told me daily I wasn't allowed to leave them like that, and my significant other.

I have a story. I’ve considered writing about it, but it's dark and lonely. Full of pain no one ever had the courage to see. I finally came forward about it. Literally begged for help.  No one who could help listened.  No one listened could help.

”Where’s your proof?”

That’s the question they always ask.

That’s the question that always sends me back to the dark place.

So, I never felt the motivation to go forward with it. Get my talk out there into the world. I lost track of the light beside the glowing individual that, once in a while, was able to grab my hand and drag me to it like a horse to water. They still have to do that to be honest.

They’re there though. They haven't left. Haven't asked for proof. Took my words as enough.

They helped me find other people too, little lights in my life who I know are just as bright in the world, who I love dearly even if they don't break my darkness apart in the same way.

I don't really know why I’m going on like this. Like I said with the talk, sometimes the words just come and before I know it I’ve regurgitated pages of them. Often having to delete paragraphs and paragraphs, most of which I feel are just as important to my point. I did that here too. You probably can't tell.

Point is, yesterday I saw something that led me to a little trail of light. Gave me a little trickle of hope...

Graffiti in a bathroom stall.

It’s unclear what came first, or second or third or fourth even, but it is clear what the little conversation was. I took a picture of it, weird I know, but it really struck me. Someone at one point wrote something about “fags.” I’m not sure what, it's partially scribbled over. But around that? Several messages in different handwritings defending the  LGBT community. One of them stating, “Wow, Imagine still being homophobic in 2019,” another “You lookin like a clown.” Seeing these silly words marked into the stall I nearly cried. It gave me a light to hang to, weirdly enough, even if it only lasted until I once again reached home and thus my biggest tormentor.

Then, tonight, when I was looking at pictures on my phone, looking for a light to save me from the dark place for just a small while, I saw the picture. I scrolled through youtube and saw “In a heartbeat” recommended to watch again.

I was struck once again and felt a need to get my words out there too. To let someone, anyone, know that they aren't alone.

Give someone that trickle of light.

So, without further ado... the script to my TED talk: Man, I wish homophobia was a real thing…. Like, obviously the thing the word is used to represent is there - the blatant hate and discrimination towards the LGBT community - but phobia implies a fear. For example, the fear of heights  (acrophobia)  the fear of spiders (arachnophobia) or the fear of snakes (ophidiophobia). Can you imagine if people went around saying things like “blackphobia” and “womanphobia” instead of racist and sexist? Absolute chaos would ensue. People would have a meltdown. This is because, in this modern-day, people know that these things aren’t fear, they are an intolerance. So, by using the word “homophobia” it gives people the ability to rationalize their hate in the name of being afraid. as religions do.

This is what we, as the up and coming generation, need to change. We can help get rid of this hate and discrimination by referring to it as such. By calling it as it is - intolerance.

One extreme example of an organization that uses fear as a guise for their discrimination is the Westboro Baptist Church. They’re so hateful they’ve become somewhat of a joke to many in the LGBT community. *miles* Their website is literally “godhatesfags.com” and when any person dares to say this may be hateful, the church replies by simply saying “Gospel preaching is not hate.” Can you see where I’m going with this?

No, not every religion is as blatantly hateful as this one, their hate is often more subtle - at least to people it’s not directed towards. Living in Utah as an out pansexual teen I’ve been on the receiving end of this hate, even from some of my closest friends. And this isn’t their fault! They’ve been raised in such a way they don’t even realize they’re doing it. Most people are blissfully unaware of the ways LGBT youth are discriminated against every single day, so let me explain.

One of my best friends, who I will keep anonymous, said one of the most hateful things I’ve ever taken to heart just this last fall. We were skipping a church class and sitting outside when we somehow stumbled onto the topic of marriage. I mentioned that it didn’t seem fair that LGBT people couldn’t get married in the temple. Her response was “Well, I think it shouldn’t be allowed. Gay people are fine, but forcing us to allow them to marry in the temple takes away our freedom of religion.”

And, I guess that’s what everyone is so afraid of. Their rights and freedoms being taken away in exchange for ours. But as a wise person once said, “More rights for me doesn’t mean less rights for you! It’s not pie!”

I ask you to think real quickly - excuse my language - how many times has someone told you to “Burn in hell” or told you that if you don’t change your ways it’s unavoidable. I’ll give you a second to count. _______________. Now, you probably only used one hand right? 

I ran out of hands to count on within a week of coming out - and I only counted people, not the number of times. To this day I get told this phrase or some variation at least once a week.

Now, let me talk about school and bullying. I have a very specific story with this, but rest fully assured it’s not even close to being the only one, or the worst one. Just a couple weeks ago I was walking through the hall and got stopped by some kid I don’t even know, just so he could call me a “faggie.” I don’t know if you know the history of the word “fag,” but basically when the whole thing with witches trials was going on, people also burned LGBT people. However, they didn’t think them “worthy” to be burned on the stake, so they threw them in with the leftover broken sticks known as “fags.” So, as you can imagine, being called that is quite hurtful. I went right to one of my friends and explained what happened, and they misheard and thought I said the kid called me “fattie.” They immediately freaked and explained that I wasn’t fat, that the kid was stupid, etc. etc. When I explained that he had, in fact, insulted me for being gay and not for being fat her attitude completely changed. She basically shrugged me off and told me not to be dramatic.

That’s what everyone does, isn’t it? If it’s something we know a person shouldn’t be bullied for - like hair color, how fat or skinny they are, their acne - the bully is reprimanded. As they should be. But when a student goes to complain about bullying or exclusion over being gay or trans, adults often respond with “Well, have you tried…. Not being gay?” I was literally called an abomination in front of a teacher…. And they did nothing!

Now, if my stories alone don’t convince you that this is a real problem let me show you the facts of suicide. According to Utah Health Officials, quote “Among Utah youth aged 10-17 who died by suicide during 2011-2015 with circumstantial data...Of the 40 cases that included information on the decedent's sexual orientation, 15% were identified as sexual minorities.” Close quote. That isn’t even counting how many were closeted, or Trans.  Then besides that, this research on suicide and the causes is hard to conduct, because, simply put, the dead can’t speak for themselves.  “if the rate isn't zero we have work to do”

A study at the University of Georgia about a year ago showed that 70% of LGBT Mormons met the criteria for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Yeah. From a church that supposedly promotes love. “we are inflicting trauma on out queer youth by asking and requiring them to go to church”

Now, to fix this problem, nothing huge or drastic even has to happen, at least for the first few steps. And I’m definitely not saying to stop believing in your church. religion is wonderful. I'm just asking you to follow a little less blindly. Like I said, we are the up and coming generation! We have the power to change the world in the palm of our hands! We often just don’t realize it because the people in power in this world tend to take all the control they can, and we just let them! So, let’s take it back. Let’s take that power and use it. Start by simply paying attention to what you say. Don’t rationalize something hateful that you say, either out loud or in your head, by using religion as your excuse. And, if you hear someone else saying something hateful, step in. Do you know how many lives could actually be saved if all of us just made an effort to watch our words?

[empressfiend]

We're Marching On (Magnus-centric fic)

Magnus Appreciation Month December 3rd: Music Read on Ao3.

(introspection on Dom’s use of gay slur and lgbt+ history)

There's so many wars we fought;

There's so many things we’re not;

*~*~*~*

Rare were the days that Magnus Bane would glamour himself to be invisible to the whole world but today was one of them. This week had been full of blows, one after the other without break, and he’d had enough. Today was one of the multiple dark days he had had in the past when he had wondered why on earth he was living in the United States when there were plenty other countries who wouldn’t be so vocally and outwardly hateful towards his kind.

But, he supposed, after living for so long being put down again and again by his parents, the people who raised him, religious men and women, public figures, mundanes, Shadowhunters, Downworlders, so-called LGBT+ allies, and even some individuals from the LGBT+ community, he must have gotten used to it somewhere along the way.

And also, maybe, he had come to think that he deserved to be looked down on and treated less because who was he, anyway, other than the product of rape? Magnus Bane, the Great Destruction, son of the Prince of Hell, bisexual, Asian, a man who wore make-up, a fag, an abomination, a monster – he was so many things and yet none of them were really anything good.

He could take what he was and make himself out to be better than everyone because he was powerful and could wear undying confidence like a well-worn battle suit but it would make no difference in the end.

With every two steps that progress and equality made, they had had to take one step back and he was tired of it. He was so… tired of everything. He’d lived long enough to realise that the majority of the world wouldn’t accept him, not even when humanity reached its bitter end. And so he had settled with ensuring that he had safe environments to snuggle in and people he could be somewhat himself with without needing to fear or having a front but he couldn’t have those either, could he?

He could still hear the words vividly in his mind, the way Jace had nonchalantly called Simon a ‘fag’ as if the word was a joke that was funny or an innocent word that held no terrible meaning or worse, a word that was in the same category as ‘slut’, ‘bitches’, ‘asshole’, and the like.

All the strength he had to keep himself together had snapped then and he had been unable to hold in his flood of negative emotions. The horrors that were happening in the world, the regression of America’s progress towards equality, and the blatant ignorance and hate his people were suffering through out in the open once more – they were enough without him having to hear such slur from Alexander’s brother and yet...

So many uneducated and ignorant people liked to think that homophobic slurs were of the past but they weren’t. They liked to forgive with uttered excuses but there were no excuses that could forgive such words being said. There was only atonement and that was something that he held no hope for when it came to those people who said such things in the first place nor for those who defended such people.

Hatred and ignorance worked hand-in-hand and those who wilfully blinded themselves were hard to help.

A year ago, he had met up with a lovely girl, Erin Davies. She had the unfortunate experience of having ‘fag’ and ‘u r gay’ spray-painted onto her gorgeous Volkswagon when she was in college and she was one of the few mentally strong young LGBT+ individuals that stood up against hatred with courage and bravery. What had been a blatant insult to her very existence, Erin had used to raise awareness of homophobia and LGBT+ rights in the United States and she had done so beautifully.

Her film, ‘The Fagbug’, had helped countless people educate themselves and countless more to be stronger. But when he had met up with her a few days into May, she was shaken, fresh from an encounter with a man named White that had taken one look at her beautiful Volkswagon, coloured in the colours of the rainbow and named ‘fagbug’, and charged into the post office she was at to spit at her, threaten her with a beating and death, and physically assault her.

He had been angry then, with the cruelty she had had to face after all the good she had done and he was angry now with Jace. Having Alexander, a gay man, as a brother, he’d have thought Jace would have the decency to be more educated and not be one more person that threw out slurs so casually. But more than being angry, he was disappointed with himself for hoping, upset that his trust in Alexander’s brother was unfounded and broken, and ultimately, he just felt utterly hopeless.

Magnus looked down from the top of the pillar of Brooklyn Bridge at the cars and night joggers rushing past below him then at the rest of the glittering city. He should have been home hours ago and he knew Alexander was waiting and yet he couldn’t move from where he was because the only way down he wanted to go was into the water that was temptingly lit up.

He closed his eyes with a sigh, slowly lowered himself down to lie down flat on the cold brick and tried to block out the noise that seemed to press against him oppressively. The sound of a siren made his heart jump and as it came closer and closer, he could feel himself wanting to shut the world away, when his phone vibrated in his hand, as it had done so continuously since he had stormed out of the Institute, and he opened his eyes to switch it off to airplane mode.

Wind blew past him, biting and chilly, as he took out and untangled the mess of his earphones; the wires fluttered violently in the air before he successfully banished all the ties and slotted the earpieces into his ears and plugged the other end into his phone.

Having not bothered to pick a playlist, his music player went through some upbeat and bass-heavy music that made him remember the good times he would have in Pandemonium dancing without a care in the world and he lost himself in those exhilarating memories, freeing times where how he moved and flowed were all that was in his mind and nothing else.

A sigh left his lips when a soothing beat greeted him and he was graced with the heavenly voice of Ryan Tedder. He tapped his phone to have the song play on repeat and let himself sink into the lyrics as a tentative smile played on his lips and his chest ached. The words struck a chord inside of him and his heavy heart gradually lightened up so when the song played again, he started to sing along.

“For those days we felt like a mistake,

Those times when love’s what you hate,

Somehow,

We keep marching on.”

It had taken him a long time to stop hating his parents for what they had done; his mother for killing herself over him when he had done nothing wrong and his father for trying to murder him. It took even longer for him to forgive himself for being the cause of his mother and father’s death. And it had taken a little more to fully be comfortable in his own skin no matter the circumstances that brought him to being.

But even now, those feelings lingered, reinforced by the many friends and lovers who had claimed to care for him and love him only to carelessly use words that insulted him, turn their back on him when he needed them most, spit on his kind, and crush his heart.

He had avoided getting close to people because of how much they had torn his good will apart and just when he had opened his heart again, he was disappointed swiftly by Alexander’s brother. It said a lot about his trust and love for Alexander that he wasn’t packing his bags and leaving yet, never to open his heart and let people in again.

“For those nights when I couldn’t be there,

I’ve made it harder to know that you know,

That somehow,

We’ll keep moving on.”

In the late 19th century, there was a short period when he had stayed in New Orleans. It was a vibrant city even then and he had frequented a lovely bar named UpStairs Lounge at the French Quarter. It was his safe haven during those days and he had found solace and family in the LGBT+ community there. They would all enjoy drinks and dance at the end of long days except that one fateful night that he had been called on for help by the Clave.

He had gone to Idris, foregoing a night with friends, in order to quell their persistent demand only to find they merely required information from him as they arrogantly insulted him when he was graciously granting them their ‘request’.

It was one of the most regrettable decisions he had made in his life.

When he arrived back to the bar, it was to a burnt building, his friends dead or on stretchers, and his safe place gone. He could remember clearly the faces of his friends: burnt, vacant, and crying. And the callousness with which everyone treated their sufferings.

Those who had died, he and his friends had helped identify in good faith until they had all realised that the parents weren’t coming and their friends had been disowned in death. He had cried, in public, in front of his friends, and the heartless men and women that just wanted to throw his late friends into the ground to be done with it; he had lost a part of his hope for humanity then.

When everyone had left, he had returned and he had taken his friends away for proper burials. He had buried them with love and compassion, with his sweat and tears; he had dug up graves, laid them to rest, and covered them in soil with his bare hands as an act of respect. He had relished the ache in his bones and the tears he had shed for them and he hoped that they felt his sincerity.

Those who had been fortunate enough to live had come knocking on his door in tears, fired from their jobs and kicked out of their homes because they bore the signs of being burnt alive in a fire that consumed a homosexual bar, and he could do nothing but offer them his hug, his words, and his alcohol.

Eventually, he had left New Orleans, only to drop by now and again to check on his friends from afar.

“There’s so many wars we fought,

There’s so many things we’re not,

But with what we have,

I promise you that,

We’re marching on.”

When 1982 came, he had been ready to face the world again, to hope, and he had gone to New York to join the Pride Parade. He’d dressed in his best clothes and by the end of the day he found himself pissed drunk in his underwear with a henna on his chest, a police cap on his head, a fake moustache floating in his drink, and a gorgeous Drag Queen serenading him with charming tones.

It had been fun, glorious, and just what he needed to get up and go face the world again with renewed hope.

“For those doubts that swirl all around us,

For those lives that tear at the seams,

We know,

We’re not what we’ve seen.”

There were many days that he considered himself to be in the grey area between the LGBT+ community and the heterosexuals. As a bisexual man, it was hard to gain complete acceptance from both but there were days where it was clear where he stood and where he didn’t want to be.

Jace wasn’t the first straight cisgender male that had homosexual friends and family and still remained so ignorant and uneducated. Only recently, he had come across a BuzzFeed article that accurately pinpointed the wrongs of so-called LGBT+ allies or friends.

That article’s title was wrong too though as it was, ‘20 Homophobic Things Straight People Still Say By Accident’, and the list was born from things heterosexual individuals said not out of accident or mistake but out of ignorance and the lingering homophobic teachings still etched into their brains.

‘I’m not prejudiced, I even have a gay friend.’ (That’s great, but it doesn’t mean you’re not a bigot.)

‘I don’t have a problem with lesbians, I love watching lesbian porn.’

I don’t care if you’re gay, just don’t try to flirt with me.’

‘Does this outfit look gay?’

‘That’s so gay.’

‘It’s one thing for her to be a lesbian, but does she have to be so butch?’

‘Didn’t she use to date a guy?’

‘I thought he always went after ladies?’

‘You don’t even seem gay, I had no idea you were.’

‘She left me and became a lesbo? Where did I go wrong?’

“For this dance, we’ll move with each other.

There ain’t no other step than one foot.

Right in front of the other.”

Magnus wasn’t a stranger to walking forward and pretending homophobic people didn’t exist but those he couldn’t truly resist answering back to or looking incredulously at were those who had LGBT+ friends or considered themselves allies when they weren’t. They made his hackles raise and made it hard for him to trust anyone that was heterosexual because people could claim to be whatever they wanted, it didn’t mean that was who they were.

“For all of the plans we’ve made,

There isn’t a flag I’d wave.

Don’t care if we bend,

I’d sink us to swim.

We’re marching on.”

One morning of many desolate mornings, he had wanted to be inspired by people who had stronger faith than him on that particular day and it had led him to attend a LGBT+ wedding which, at that point, was technically illegal in the United States.

He had been blessed for not only witnessing a gorgeous, emotional display of what ‘love is love’ really was but to also have the chance of meeting Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg. She had performed the same-sex wedding for the lovely couple, one of the many lucky pairs she had supported ahead of the legalisation of marriage equality, and she was a delightful woman.

Ruth had a busy schedule but had taken time out to have a cup of coffee with him and to this day, he kept in contact with her if only for them both to vent frustration and use their combined knowledge to move along laws that would benefit the LBGT+ community.

“We’ll have the days we break,

And we’ll have the scars to prove it.

We’ll have the bonds that we save,

But we’ll have the heart not to lose it.”

Magnus startled when a flame erupted above his face and grabbed the smouldering letter from the air. A gentle smile stretched his lips as he traced Alexander’s writing on the paper and he slowly picked himself up to a stand. His finger sparked as he sent back a message and he took a deep breath of the icy air.

When he breathed out, his mind cleared and he squared his shoulders.

“For all of the times we’ve stopped,

For all of the things I’m not.”

He was going to stop thinking that people would educate themselves and halt his passivity. Hoping that people would become better in time wasn’t going to ever work but helping spur on the end goal of his hope just might.

The stubborn and delusional ones would have to wait however as he lacked the patience nor the compassion to bother. If they wanted to be so clueless their whole lives, then that was on them. But for those he knew had even a semblance of potential to be better, he was going to try until it was evident that he was wrong.

So come tomorrow, he was going to march into the Institute and lecture the crap out of Jace with Clary and Simon’s help. He will have Alexander and Izzy and Max sit down by the sideline to listen and learn and he was going to make sure he was better at helping his heterosexual friends be more educated and less ignorant.

“We put one foot in front of the other,

We move like we ain’t got no other.

We go when we go;

We’re marching on.”

Magnus unplugged his earphones as he took one last sweeping look at the sparkling East River and tucked the wires into his pocket along with his phone. The OneRepublic song kept playing in his mind though and he hummed it under his breath. Then, with a wave of his fingers, a portal sprung to life and he sang to himself firmly, “we keep marching on,” before leaving for the loft.

The moment he stepped through, he had a view of Alexander looking upset, nervous and scared on the couch. Large hands wrapped tightly around a red and white rose bouquet while long fingers fidgeted uneasily with each other. It lasted for a long second and by the next, he was being tugged firmly into his Shadowhunter’s arms.

He inhaled Alexander’s unique scent and let his head fall forward to rest on a leather-padded shoulder as lips descended on his cheek and he was peppered with kisses whilst apologies were being whispered into his skin. Concerned, he tilted his head up, raised a finger to place before his Shadowhunter’s lips and pressed down to trail gently on plush lips to Alexander’s jaw. He leaned forward to capture his Shadowhunter into a soft, chaste kiss. “You don’t owe me one.”

Almost immediately, the arms around him lifted him slightly off the floor and he was kissed deeply.

“I’m sorry you were hurt.” Alexander clarified when they parted.

Magnus leaned into the safe and warm hug once more and let himself be coddled and cradled by his Shadowhunter. “Thank you.” He closed his eyes when a kiss was placed on his forehead and he burrowed deeper into the cocoon of Alexander’s ever-fierce love.

*~*~*~*

But with what we have, I promise you that:

We're marching on.

Ao3 | Buy Me Coffee

I’ll write you a story/fic on Fiverr!

[its-a-queer-thing]

The Gallavich family facing homophobia

Ian and Mickey had been married for 9, almost 10 years. Yevgeny was already 13 years old and in middle school. About five years ago they adopted a beautiful little girl from a family down the street who was ready to send her to foster care. The family named her Abigail, but Ian and Mickey called her Abbi. Now 8 years old, Ian and Mickey were ironically just discussing how seamlessly she had integrated into their family when she came bursting through the door and ran to her room slamming the door behind her. Ian looked to Mickey who was staring after her, confused.

“What the fuck was that about?” Mickey wondered. Abigail was usually a level headed child and was anything but a drama queen. This display was beyond out of character and appalling to both of her fathers.

“Should we—Should we go and ask her what's wrong?” Ian stammered. They knew this day would come when the men would have trouble delving into the feminine mind of their daughter, but they had hardly considered the enigma of the female brain would confound them when she was as young as 8 years old!

“Don't ask me, I only have one sister and I never knew what the fuck she wanted.” Mickey replied. They sat there another moment in silence, thinking. Yevgeny walked through the front door throwing his backpack to the floor and making his way to the kitchen when he caught Mickey's disapproving look. Yev deflated and walked back to his backpack to hang it where Ian had installed hooks by the door just for this purpose.

“Yevgeny, what the fuck is up with your sister?” Mickey asked as Yev rummaged through the fridge.

“Umm...” He pulled his torso out of the fridge and looked at his fathers with an uncomfortable expression. “I don't think you want to know...”

“Why? Is she okay?” Ian asked.

“Well... Yes and no.” Yev replied, ever the orator like his biological father.

“Son—” Mickey warned.

“Well, after parent-teacher night last week some kids from the bus recognized the four of us leaving the school and realized you both were our dads.”

“Yeah? Fucking and?” Mickey demanded.

“Dad, we're dealing with rich yuppy private school rejects. They are homophobic as—”

“Consider your next word, son.” Ian warned. Yev smiled and closed the fridge door, apparently having lost his appetite.

“What do you mean homophobic? They are making fun of her because of Ian and me?” Mickey asked incredulously.

“Well—yeah. I mean, kids have been giving me a hard time about it for a long time, I just ignore it.”

“Why the fuck does it matter?” Mickey wondered out loud, thoroughly enraged.

“I don't know Pop, it just does. We're poor people going to a rich school district and the rich kids wanted to get into a fancy school but weren't smart enough so they pick on whoever they can to make themselves feel better.”

“Why did you never tell us?” Ian asked Yev who shrugged.

“I just didn't really pay attention, I guess.” Yev replied.

“Yev, come here.” Mickey demanded. Yev looked nervous. Mickey was a strict father figure though never abusive. But for some reason Yev always seemed nervous around Mickey, especially when he adopted the tone. Ian suspected that Svetlana was too forthcoming when describing Mickey's past as well as Terry's parenting style which she probably thought influenced Mickey. The truth though, Ian was always blown away by the nurturing side of Mickey despite his overall strict style.

“You see people picking on your sister, you need to defend her, got it? She's not Milkovich by blood, she doesn't have that steel defense we have.”

“I'm not there all of the time, Pop.” Yev argued gently. Mickey considered this.

“Know any people who know karate? Tae-kwon-do?” Yev nods. “Ask them if they will teach your sister and if they don't seem to want to, ask what it'll take.” Yev nods again and looks to Ian.

“I'd defend her if I could—” Yev starts.

“No, it's not your fault, son.” Ian assures. “She needs to know to stand up for herself. You just keep having her back like we know you already do.” Yev nods again and exhales deeply. He looks to his biological father, looking to be excused. Mickey pats him on the shoulder and Yev sags with a grin. Ian never understood what it was about Yev that made him nervous about affection with Mickey but he always seemed happier with distant and subtle displays rather than the blatant hugs Ian tried to give him.

“I've got a thing—”

“Yeah, yeah.” Mickey rolled his eyes. “Go on.” Yev laughed and went to give Ian a pat on the shoulder to match the one he received from his father. Ian let him go and sat still, staring at Mickey.

“You know there's nothing we can do, Mick. If we bring attention to it at the school—”

“I know, I know it'll put a target on her back. Like asking for more.” Mickey rubbed his eyes and stared at the ceiling.

“Let's at least talk to her.” Ian insisted. Mickey nodded, gathered himself, and followed Ian to Abbi's door. Ian knocked in a rhythm Abbi had come up with when she was 6. 'Abbi-code' she'd called it after watching a movie with her Dad that had a reference to morse code.

“What?” Her miserable mumble echoed through the door. Ian and Mickey's eyes met, their hearts simultaneously breaking.

“May we come in, sweetheart?” Ian called. She was silent for a moment, probably considering. They heard her sniffle, and then heard footsteps as she approached the door, opening it just a crack. Ian went ahead and pushed through slowly. Mickey would have waited for the invite, but not Ian. Ian's concern was too high a priority.

“Tell us what's wrong, Abbi.” Ian requested. She leaned against the foot of her bed, eyes downcast and still sniffling. Mickey leaned against her dresser, willing to wait until she answered.

“I heard Yev tell you. You already know.” She replied after a while.

“Well, we have his side, but not why you are upset.” Ian explained. She sighed and turned to face her redheaded father. One look at him though made her lips tremble again. Ian held his arms out to her and she raced into them. He wrapped her in a hug and pulled her into his lap where she continued to cry. Mickey's fists tightened until the tips of his knuckles bleached white. He looked absolutely murderous. He and Ian made eye contact and Mickey forced himself to breathe.

“What other kids think doesn't matter, Abbi, you know that.” Mickey said as gently as he could.

“But why do they hate you two so much when they don't even know you?” She wailed. “They said I'm a freak and that you and Daddy are going to hell, and I'm going to go to hell because I'll grow up gay and... I just didn't know what to say!”

Ian hugged her tighter and let her cry. Mickey sighed and rubbed at his eyes with the tips of his fingers.

“Look, Abbi. Those people can say whatever the fuck they want about your Dad and me. It's not going to change what we have going on here. Are you happy here?” Abbi peeked up from Ian's chest and nodded. “You know you're loved and looked after?” She nodded again. “Then that's all that matters. These kids are probably just pissed about whatever is going on in their shitty lives so to make themselves feel better they pick on someone smaller and who they think is an easy target. So you know what you've gotta do?” She just stared at him. “You've gotta prove that you aren't an easy target. Yevgeny is going to get someone at school to teach you some self-defense so if anyone tries to hurt you, all you've got to do is lay 'em down.”

“Don't go starting fights,” Ian interjected, “but you can definitely finish them.” She nodded.

“But what if they say—”

“Say what? It doesn't matter.” Mickey shrugged.

“It still hurts...” Abbi replied looking at her lap. Ian sighed.

“It can hurt, sure. But you just have to remind yourself that they don't know you, they don't know us so everything they are saying is coming out of hate and ignorance. You can't fix stupid, Abbi, you can only ignore it and prove to them that their stupidity isn't going to get you down.” Ian said. Mickey nodded and crouched in front of her.

“Don't give them the satisfaction. You know we are happy, we love you, and that those people are just pissed off about something they don't understand. Just... let it roll off. But like I said, if anyone tries to physically hurt you, you lay their asses down! No child of mine is going to be a fuckin' doormat.” Mickey smiled at her, trying to get her to return the expression. Naturally, she did and she wrapped her arms around Mickey's neck. Mickey in turn wrapped his arms around her little torso and cradled her to him. He and Ian made eye contact and smiled at each other. They hated how mean kids could be, but they had known long ago that this was a possibility and had prepared to strengthen their young ones up to face the harsh realities of an unforgiving world.

“You okay now?” Ian asked, rubbing her back. She looked down.

“It still hurts, but I know you're right. I just can't stand when they say mean things about you when they don't know you.”

“It's understandable that it hurts, you just can't let it show to anyone else or they will walk all over you. If you are ever mad about it just wait until you're home and we can talk about it some more, okay?” Ian  explained. She nodded. She released her grip around Mickey's neck and gave Ian one more quick hug before settling on her bed.

“Want to come out into the living room, or do you want to be by yourself?” Mickey asked. She grinned, grabbed her backpack and settled at the dining room table.

 One of the most delightful things about their little family was how normal it was despite the circumstances. Abbi loved school and she loved working on her homework with her dads nearby to help if she had a question. Mickey was terrible at school so mostly Ian helped with schoolwork, but Mickey had developed a knack for cooking (beyond just pizza-bites and other frozen foods, mind you) and so he usually made dinner, tossing in some humor if Abbi ever got frustrated or needed a quick break. Yevgeny was usually in his room all night doing god knew what, but tonight he came out to be with his family. While Mickey cooked, Yevgeny actually shared his day with his father. Mickey was always shocked when Yev acted so attached to him because the sentiment came and went so much he could never tell how his son felt about him that day. He listened though, really listened and engaged. It was still hard for Mickey to attach to Yevgeny who was a constant reminder of that horrible day Terry walked in on him and Ian. It wasn’t fair, but there it was. He worked every day to ignore those memories and focus on the human being before him, and though it was rough he could say with certainty that he and his son had a relationship--and he was proud to say it.

Ian wished desperately they could somehow take a snapshot of this picture: Mickey cooking, Yevgeny hanging out with his father, Ian and Abbi working together on her fractions. There'd be something to show the haters: look you assholes, a loving family doing the same shit you guys do but with two men instead of only one. And look, our kids are fucking happy! Put that in your judgement pipes and smoke it! Of course that wasn't possible, but Ian was satisfied by the mental image anyway.

That night as Ian put Abbi to bed he made her promise not to ever take a negative word from a stranger to heart and to think of this night if anyone was ever getting her down.

“The truth,” he said, “will keep you afloat when people try to drown you in negativity. Just remember who we are and what we do and remember that if they don't know shit... then their opinion is irrelevant.”

Abbi considered this for a moment, grinned, and nodded.

“Okay, dad. I love you.” She said.

“I love you, too.” He replied and kissed her gently on the forehead. “Good night.” Mickey was standing at the door, watching the whole thing.

“I love you, daddy!” She called at Mickey. He smirked and crossed to her bed, kissing her lightly on the forehead right where Ian had.

“I love you too, kid.” She closed her eyes contentedly and snuggled under the covers, easing off into sleep.

Mickey had never dreamed he and Ian would have a life like this. But at moments like this he was so grateful they did. They both knew their kids would be subjected to more hatred, because that was the human way--to hate things they don’t understand. But the hatred would just make their kids stronger and feel more secure in the family they had. 

As the couple prepared for their own nighttime routine, Mickey and Ian both felt satisfied that despite the assholes, they were definitely living the life together they had never dared to dream.