#was to let these queer characters exist and breathe safely for one fucking night of their lives
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the marker of my final piece this year has so spectacularly missed the point of my story that i want to fucking scream
#sami rambles#what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck#i got a B which may not seem bad but that story is the best thing i've ever written hands down and i poured my heart and soul into it so :D#for context its a story following the lives of 4 queer people at one night in a queer bar in 1950's LA#and this straight white cis woman told me 1) that i should consider using a less cliche and overly-used space like the gay bar#which ?????? bitch in what world do films use gay bars that much i can think of 3 things ive watched that have had gay bars in them#and most of those are modern#then secondly she said that i should introduce more tension into each of the stories when the whole fucking point of this#was to let these queer characters exist and breathe safely for one fucking night of their lives#i wrote about that in my fucking critical reflection. at length!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#how fucking DENSE to you have to be#and then the other thing that brought my mark down was something my tutor told me to do which ?????#HAHAHAHAHA#i'm so fine its not like my entire identity and mental health depends on my ability to write no siree!#definitely not feeling super depressed rn or anything !!!!#anyway sorry. i needed to vent.
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very Important adam/ronan things to take away from the cdth sampler:
“like the other lynch brothers, he was a regular churchgoer, but most people assumed he played for the other team.” i am SCREAMING. top tier gay joke. well timed.
everyone: ronan’s eyes aren’t pretty. adam: mhmm e y e l a s h e s
much to say about the revelation that ronan is partly at the barns to keep his dreams hidden and in check, and how much he relates an inability to change and be like everyone else to having to stay there. almost like he’s stuck huh! i’ve been saying!!
of note that words used to describe ronan’s existence are BORED and MALINGERED.
fingers crossed he finds some balance between his dreams and his wants/needs that allows him to leave the barns and grow but after the Great Crab Disaster I’M WORRIED.
fire imagery EVERYWHERE. i’m WORRIED again.
“there are stains that spread faster than you drive. if you drive, it’ll take fourteen years to get there. seventeen. forty. one hundred. we’ll be driving to your funeral by the end.” good to know ronan is still the most DRAMATIC boy in the whole of virginia. absolutely no chill.
dont like the possible foreshadowing of that driving to your funeral by the end, though. must leave lynches alone!
“it’s very safe” asjkajjka DECLAN PLEASE
“ronan kicked one of the volvo’s tires” asjkajjka RONAN PLEASE.
ronan trying to act nonchalant by cramming chocolate covered peanuts into his mouth and choking a little is Peak Disaster Gay.
matthew’s music must be awful if ronan and declan are in agreement over it, must have playlist.
ronan who lives to pretend he doesn’t care wondering if his brothers didn’t say anything about his moving because it didn’t make a difference to them is huhhh. don’t like it, take it away pls.
i’m sorry, ENTIRELY WRAPPED UP IN! ENTIRELY!
entirely
wrapped
up
in
shut up!!!! shut upppppp!
“is there any version of you that could come with me to cambridge?” tbh nothing would have readied me for this. adam i-can-do-everything-alone asking ronan if he could go with him. so much growth, too much pride, nowhere to put it, send help.
the fact that ronan doesn’t stay in cambridge when he visits adam because of plausible deniability, that if he doesn’t try there’s no evidence he can’t make it there. rip.
ronan! missed! him! like! a! lung!
dramatic again, but entirely relatable bc damn, same ronan, same.
a) ronan thinking about how his heartbeat is the same as everyone else’s so he wasn’t that different and b) JUST LIKE ADAM’S HEART WHEN HIS HEAD WAS RESTING ON HIS HEAD = much too much to think about. need to lie down for a bit.
he could move to follow the guy he loved!! we all knew it was love, we’ve always known it was love, but! the words. the words!!!!! brb sobbing.
i have only had jordan for a day and a half but if anything happened to her i would kill everyone in this room and then myself. 11/10 would marry.
art forgery plot confirmed!
THIS WAS HOW IT HAD BEGUN
bitch fkajdkajksja GIVE ME A WARNING.
still can’t compose myself RE the info that ronan saw adam and immediately sent a desperate prayer up to god
will the word please ever be the same again? definitely not!
adam’s arms adam’s hands his lovely! boyish! hands!
the description of his expressions with all its contradictions and multitudes is just my favourite thing ever. it encapsulates everything i love about adam fucking parrish.
and the fact that ronan instantly recognised all those multitudes in him. there was always a level of understanding ronan had for adam throughout trc that no one else did and this tells us he had that before he even met him, he just... recognised something in him i just... ;______;
please
ronan knowing all the harvard stats because he was the person adam could crow to, how he takes on that adam that is still full of contradictions and multitudes, how he finds it hard but he absorbs all the facts and all of adam’s anxieties, even in the face of his own anxieties about adam leaving and falling in love with the shining, educated people that ronan thinks are better than him. that absolute, unwavering support 😭😭😭
tbh there’s a whole ass lot to unpack in this section so imma try and do it briefly (she says!)
ronan lynch is a romantic cdth confirmed:
he could have texted adam but he liked the soft surprise of it
over the past few days ronan had played his reunion with adam over in his head MANY TIMES
adam i love you but that outfit sounds awful. you are a student, it’s a friday night, put some sweats on and stuff some cheetos in your mouth.
the sweet nervousness of their reunion, how they walk past each other and both seem so uncertain. they’re a year into dating and the still get nervous and unsure after a few weeks apart and it’s CUTE and definitely speaks to their excitement/anticipation levels.
THE WATCH. big time softness.
they hugged hard ;_____;
im just so relieved that they’re allowed to touch each other and be intimate and aren’t consigned to the ‘boys in love aren’t like that boring boring’ corner.
the way ronan thinks about how adam fits as he remembered. huh. you’re really gonna do this to me.
his hand still pressed against the back of ronan’s skull the way it ALWAYS did when they hugged.
you smell like home. you smell like home!!!!!! brb ive gone absolutely fucking feral.
i both want to play repo because it sounds fun and don’t want to because it sounds complicated and i fucking hate instructions. much confusion.
adam pressing his shoe hard against ronan’s and then his leg and then breathing in ronan’s ear I AM HOWLING. ronan’s nerve endings being made a marvel of I AM SOBBING. it’s very important that m/m ships are afforded the same level of explicit attraction as m/f (and i don’t mean explicit as in nsfw, i mean as in obvious)
no offence because i love them but all of adam’s friends sound Extra™
“to the outside eye, ronan lynch was a loser” pls ronan, you are giving me an ulcer.
scary spice i asjkjdkjskdjak
queer crying club! i stan!!
also adam saying in the epilogue of trk that he wanted to save all the adam’s hidden in plain view and then going to college and scooping up all the criers and giving them something to do is far too much to handle.
don’t think about that and the time he thought about how he used to spend his nights crying on the trailer steps and wondering why he bothered until gansey came along and offered him friendship. dont think about how he’s essentially paying that forward DON’T THINK ABOUT IT.
hand holding, arms around each other, hip to hip walking, can’t wait anymore kissing, I MISSED YOU. love that for me!
but also the fact that adam reaches down for ronan’s hand and its so natural. ronan’s hand is there so he just. takes it.
hearing ronan’s thoughts on what happened with robert at last is A Lot. the way it’s still happening, always happening, kept fresh and savage shows how affected ronan was by it all and still is and i think its so important that he’s not just. angry and hot headed. there’s more to it than that. its painful, it makes him feel sick, its unending and it really speaks to how much adam means to him.
adam thinks he has no one BITCH YOU’VE GOT ALL OF US.
and ronan.
but. how he feels like he has nothing still. the way his voice hitches on ‘because’ because it’s all still so painful. i wanna wrap him up. i wanna take everything that hurts away. i wanna tell him he’s so loved. guess i’ll just have to sit back and watch him work his way through it all I GUESS. no but i am looking forward to his growth in this trilogy, especially considering how much he’s grown already. adam parrish invented character growth lets 👏 be 👏 real 👏
it had never been a fight between them/it was a fight between adam and himself, between adam and the world/for ronan it was a fight between truth and compromise, between the black and white he saw and the reality everyone else experienced. i LOVE this. it so well encapsulates them. and it’s so important that they can realise their differing world views and their complexities and meet in the middle somewhere.
“ronan put his lips on adam’s deaf ear, and he hated adam’s father” FUCK ME UP. my absolute favourite bit 103930%. absolute incoherent mess over here. not! okay! see other post for more coherency because i only had it for 5.7 minutes.
frowning, guarded, crumpled adam who i’ll literally. never be over in all of my life. 38983/10 will love him until the end of time.
i want it too much. !!!!!! going feral again over here. WHAT DO YOU WANT ADAM? I WANT IT TOO MUCH. definitely will never shut up about this.
scared adam is going to be a visionary so pretending chapter 6 doesn’t exist.
LINDENMERE ;________;
i love it already
i CANNOT believe that ronan is being dream invaded and challenged and he’s over here like hmm nice bike ELEGANT and ROUGH and READY like ADAM asjkasj please ronan you are so embarrassing!!
also. ronan thinks adam is elegant and rough and ready so! there’s that!
i literally. cannot. cope with the HILARITY of chapter 8. the whole thing is a complete and utter DISASTER. it’s absolutely gone off in adam’s room after all his work at constructing a well put together boy. ronan comes for a night and everything goes BONKERS. amazing.
(really worried about what this means RE ronan being able to exit the barns and grow and change and not be bored and not feel like a loser so we’re focusing on the hilarious disaster of it all.)
p.s. adam sleeping slotted between ronan and the wall OKAY. THIS IS FINE!
p.p.s. adam’s bed hair is WILD.
p.p.p.s i have missed adam and ronan so so so so so much and im an emotional fucking wreck
#call down the hawk#ronan lynch#adam parrish#pynch#dreamer trilogy#cdth spoilers#long post#sorry so much to say we were so well fed so many thoughts#;_____;#lou.txt
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Ok but what if... Mike was really homophobic...
Bear with me, I’m going somewhere with this I swear. And the way is BYELER.
Major Warning - this fic explores and deals with homophobia, abusive behaviour, self-destructive/self-hate behaviour, bullying, hate speech/slurs and dub-con. Let me be explicit, MIKE displays all of these tendencies in this fic. Please do not read if you don’t think this will be your cup of tea. Please keep yourself safe and heed the warnings.
ETA BECAUSE PEOPLE STILL DON’T SEEM TO BE GETTING IT: Mike in this story is very OOC. Like it says right there in the title - this is a WHAT IF story. I don’t actually think Mike’s character is like this. Oy vey.
This started as a story prompt for other writers. Then it became like a HC post, and now its like a weirdly formatted 6000 word wholeass story under the cut. I didn’t mean for it to get so long....
- ok so its like an AU where the upsidedown and Eleven didn’t happen
- what if Mike broke from the group when they entered high school
- like what if instead of puberty hitting him in all the wrong ways, it instead hit him in all the right ways. maybe those long limbs earned him a spot on the basketball team and he becomes a bit of a jerkish popular jock
- further to that, what if... what if he joined in on the bullying of Will in a BIG way
- Will was being teased for being a “fairy” before any of that upsidedown business happened. That’s a canonical fact.
- Of course Will is devastated the first time Mike calls him a “fag” and stands by as two other jocks push him to the ground and throw his bag in the garbage
- Of course he doesn’t know what to do when he sees Mike among the group of individuals hightailing it away from his locker, spray-paint can in hand, as Will approaches and beholds the slurs and horrible drawings graffiti-ed across his own and the neighbouring lockers
- he can take the other guys being jerks but Mike, who he has practically known all his life... he doesn’t know how to respond to that, he doesn’t know how to fight back against that.
- Its not even like he ever even told Mike the truth about his sexuality. Will was careful to hide his feelings. There’s no way he could know... so why does Mike always act like this is personal? Like Will is personally offending him just by existing?
- it goes on for years. Will getting by as best he can with the constant bullying and the help of Dustin and Lucas who remain by his side, even after he tells them the truth, that all the rumours are true, that he is what they say he is.
- it all comes to a head one night. Will walking through town after seeing a movie with the guys. He thinks he will go visit his Mom at work and bum a ride home hopefully. He see’s the group of jocks hanging out in the street, Mike among them, arm around some anonymous girl. They look rowdy, they look drunk. Will is nervous and crosses the road ducking into an alley to take an alternative route. He doesn’t know that Mike saw him.
- He thinks he’s home free when he emerges from the mouth of another alley, but Mike is waiting for him, leaning against the wall in the shadows. He pushes him back into the alley with a “where do you think you’re going Byers?”
- Will is somewhat relieved to see Mike is alone, maybe he can be talked out of whatever he has planned. And so he isn’t ready for the first shove that smacks him back against the brick wall.
- “I asked you a question Byers! Where the fuck do you think you’re going?!” and Will can see fire blooming in Mike’s eyes as he tries to sidestep him but only gets shoved back against the wall again, this time banging his head so hard that black splotches swim in front of his eyes
- And suddenly all of Mike’s 6′3 frame is pinning Will against the wall and he can smell the alcohol on his breath
- “Please Mike...”
- “Shut up faggot! Is that what you’re doing back here. Meeting one of your faggoty friends? Sucking his cock like the fucking disgusting queer you are?”
- The terror is building inside Will. He never thought he would ever feel this way around Mike but here they are and he feels like his lungs might be collapsing
- “Mike...”
- “You think you’re better than me don’t you. That you’re above it all. The way you walk around that school. Looking the way you do. But you’re wrong. I know what you are. You’re nothing. I am better than you, in every fucking way. I am.”
- “Mike please...”
- But there are fingers clutched around his jaw and Will’s eyes are wide open as there are suddenly lips mashed against his. A tongue violently invading his mouth and teeth clacking painfully against his own.
- The kiss is brutal and furious and tastes of cheap booze. Nothing gentle or affectionate about it. But for a moment Will forgets every horrible thing that has ever happened to him at the hands of the boy in front of him because...
... because he doesn’t think he has ever heard anything as... as sad as the anguished groan that almost sounds like it is being ripped from Mike’s throat.
- Will remains perfectly still, neither participating in the kiss or pulling away from it. He couldn’t even if he wanted to. Mike’s grip is just so desperate.
- Slowly the taller boy pulls away. His eyes are bright and wild as he steps back panting heavily.
- Will can’t move, can barely think, his head is throbbing and he needs time to process what just happened. Mike’s voice is low and threatening and slashes through the silence.
- “If you tell anyone, I’ll fucking kill you.” And with his sleeve rubbing harshly against his mouth, he runs away.
- So now Will knows Mike’s secret. And everything makes a little more sense, but not a lot.
- And he could have left it at that. Gone on as usual and never acknowledged what had happened in that alleyway ever again.
- But Will cant. This is Mike... and no matter what he’s become... to Will he is still that boy that was his best friend for years. Who he used to patch up whenever he would do something reckless like ride his bike with no hands or climb a tree that was way too flimsy to hold his weight. The boy who had cried and admitted to him that he sometimes felt so lonely when he went home from sleepovers it was like his insides were clenching in on themselves... trying to turn him inside-out, or maybe make him disappear altogether. The one who never made fun of him for being afraid of the dark and sometimes even held his hand as they fell asleep beside each other...
... the one he had been well on his way to falling in love with before Mike had... become what he’d become.
- So he pursues it. He approaches the bear completely ready to poke. But Mike doubles down on either pretending he doesn’t exist, or throwing insults at him like he is being paid for it. Will can’t seem to get a moment alone with him.
- and so Will bites the bullet and sneaks into Mike’s room to wait for him to get home from practice one night. It’s no trouble, they used to climb through each others windows all the time before...
- at first Mike does not react well. He rages, he threatens, he denies. But he doesn’t lay a hand on Will. And that is his trump card. As long as Mike doesn’t physically hurt him, he can take the verbal beating. He knows Mike is confused. And he knows how scary that can be.
- and so he accepts Mike’s weak-at-best excuses. That he was drunk and didn’t know what he was doing. That he was horny because Sally Davidson had cock-blocked him earlier that night. That Will was so goddamn girly looking that anyone could get switched around on a dark night. Will sits on Mike’s bed and nods with a wry eyebrow raised that he knows Mike sees and then.... he leaves. He makes sure to make eye contact with Mike before ducking out the window though. Tells him if he ever needs to talk, he’ll be there.
- things don’t necessarily improve for Will after that... but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t notice that Mike is no longer an active participant in his bullying. Maybe its just a coincidence that Mike just happens to never be around. Will chooses to believe it isn’t. But he has to test the theory. He has to push a little harder.
- So he takes another chance and climbs through Mike’s window a second time about a week later. He doesn’t allow Mike enough time to cuss him out this time. Just sits on the edge of his bed and starts chatting away as if they are good friends. As if nothing’s changed. He asks him about Holly. He asks him about Nancy. His parents. He asks how practice went. Has Mike thought about college yet. Etc etc.
- To his utter surprise, Mike stares at him for a long time, sighs, collapses into his desk chair, spins around a bit staring at the ceiling and... begins to talk
- He finds out that Holly is an insufferable terror that Mike hates to love. That Nancy stopped checking in after awhile and barely ever comes home for holidays. He finds out that Mike still hates Ted’s fucking guts and also hates that he wants to impress him so much. He finds out that Karen drinks too much and that Mike keeps a stash of confiscated bottles under his bed that he has no guilt about dipping into on nights where he feels like it. He doesn’t learn anything about basketball practice because “what the fuck would you know about sport faggot?” And he learns nothing about college because apparently Mike doesn’t like to think about the future too much because “whats the point...?”
- Will leaves again the way he came. There are no pleasantries, no “we should do this again”. Just an instinctual knowing that Will has to keep pushing whatever this is. Because there is something desperately wrong with Mike. He can feel it.
- but he doesn’t know what he can do. He talks about it vaguely with Dustin and Lucas, carefully leaving Mike’s name out of it. It is Dustin that first floats the word “depression” into the conversation. And it fits. And it scares Will.
- Will hasn’t had cause to observe Mike closely for a long time. But he observes him that week. Observes how he almost seems glassy-eyed and not present when he sits at lunch with his friends. How a frown creases between his eyebrows when Sally leans over to kiss him that disappears before she leans back and has a chance to see it. That the only time he seems genuinely happy is when he is on the court and he is concentrating so devastatingly hard on bringing his team success.
- And if Will’s heart just happens to flutter a bit with the new intimate knowledge of just how sharp Mike’s cheekbones have become, or the cute way he wipes sweat from his brow, or how his lips go cherry red after he’s been chewing on them... well that’s another thing entirely and not what matters right now.
- Will was just considering whether he should visit Mike’s windowsill a third time when a mysterious note appears in his locker. “Come help me with my science homework nerd. Wednesday night. I’ll leave the window open. - M” and Will’s heart just might do a little dance.
- It quickly becomes apparent that Mike does not need any help with his science homework. He knows most of the answers when Will tries to quiz him. Maybe Will shouldn’t be surprised. Mike had always been smart, no matter what sort of meatheaded company he keeps these days. But then if he didn’t need help, then why was Will here?
- He keeps the charade going though because he can’t deny, Mike being nice to him is a bit of an addictive activity. And he is being nice, all condescending comments about nerdism aside. He hasn’t called him faggot once tonight. Thats progress!
- He even asked about Will’s mom as he was leaving that night. And so, with one leg hanging out the window, bewildered expression on his face, Will tells him that Joyce is well. That she smokes too much and worries about Jonathan at college, and puts too much effort into yelling at Lonnie on the phone to pay child support, and wishes Will and the boys would hold their D&D campaigns at their house instead of Lucas’s because she doesn’t like Will biking home late at night
- Is it just Will’s imagination or does Mike’s face almost look wistful as he talks on? Mike blinks it away pretty quickly though as he scoffs and turns away from the window. “whatever, later nerd”. And that’s that.
- Life goes on. Mike still pretty much ignores him at school. But Will will take that over the bullying any day.
- The second time things come to a head is again late at night with Mike drunk, and Will completely sober. He’s just finished a campaign, but chosen to not sleepover at Lucas’ like Dustin. And so he’s walking his bike in the dark, enjoying the crisp evening and the view of Ursa Major. Must be close to 1am when a car screeches past him.
- Curious, he pauses at the end of a cul-de-sac. Of Mike’s cul-de-sac he notes with interest. He watches as the car pulls up outside Mike’s neighbour’s house. Watches as a figure stumbles out of the car. Notes a few laughs and cheers emerging from inside the car and then watches in horror as the car pulls away and drives off.
- He knows instinctually that the figure is Mike, and he can gather that he must be drunk by the slumped way he is down on one knee, hands to the grass and appears to just be staring at the ground breathing.
- What kind of fucked up friends just leave like that?! Not even helping him inside?! Not even making sure they are in front of the right fucking house!!
- Will is full of indignant anger! And it is this anger that drives him to march over and bend down and ask if Mike is okay.
- “Where the fuck did you come from??”
- “Doesn’t matter, can you walk? C’mon big guy, lets walk.”
- Will is so fucking grateful the door to the basement is unlocked. The state that Mike’s in, he’s fairly sure they couldn’t have handled a quiet entrance through the front door, and definitely not sneaking through Mike’s second story bedroom window.
- He does not expect the rush of nostalgia that momentarily overtakes him as soon as he lays Mike down on the same old couch that was there when he was 10 fucking years old.
- Rinses out a cup at the same old laundry tub and fills it with water for Mike. Walks past the same old shelves laden with familiar board games - though they appear to be collecting dust... its all a bit discombobulating
- There are a few differences of course. Will can see the old playing table and chairs stacked into a corner. The comics that used to stand proudly on the shelves by the board games have disappeared. Probably in storage or maybe even given away...
- He looks to the boy in front of him as he puts the cup on the coffee table. Probably the most changed thing of all in this dusty old basement.
- “Do you still write Mike?”
- “Huh?” Mike’s head doesn’t even lift from where it is leaning against the back of the couch. Will stands awkwardly off to the side. Not sure if he should sit or not. He feels like he’s invading.
- “Like short stories. You used to write these really neat short stories. Do you still do that?”
- He watches as Mike’s brow furrows in concentration. After a short silence Mike utters vehemently “Course not. Writing’s for faeries”.
- Of course it is. Will thinks sourly. Why do I even fucking bother? He feels angry and tired and suddenly a great yearning to be home. To be away from here.
- He starts to shuffle towards the door, not really looking forward to the cold ride home, but he feels like he’s done all he needs to do here. Time to go--
- “At least, that’s what Ted always says...”
- Will pauses at the doorway and looks back. Mike’s head has popped up over the back of the couch. His eyes look wide and stricken, like he’s shocked to see Will leaving.
- “Ted’s an asshole” Will murmurs.
- Mike chews on his lip for a few moments. “I know. I hate him. But... he doesn’t like me either so I guess fairs fair.” Mike turns and sits properly on the couch. With only the view of the back of his head, Will hears him mutter. “It’s funny, I always thought parents were meant to at least like their children but I guess mine are the exception...”
- He sounds more sober. And Will considers keeping on walking but... the way Mike is sitting... he looks so small, so lonely and so... haunted. Will carefully approaches and sits at the very opposite end of the couch.
- “I’m sure Karen likes you...” he tries to reassure but Mike is already shaking his head.
- “Karen is in no state to like anyone. She checked out on emotions a long time ago... I guess she passed that along to me right? Not just the drinking habits. How twee.”
- “Mike...” Will doesn’t really know what to say.
- “Nancy definitely doesn’t like me... doesn’t talk to me anymore. She says I’ve changed. Says who I’ve become is ugly or rotten or... something like that so... that’s another person to add to the party.” At this Mike pauses to stare at his clasped hands before letting out a barking laugh that has Will worrying about him waking the people upstairs. “Fuck man!” Mike exclaims. “I’m pretty sure even my friends don’t even like me all that much! So there we have it! Nobody likes Michael Andrew Wheeler! Game, set, match!”
- “I like you...” Will whispers and the words are out before Will even realises he’s the one talking.
- He watches as Mike’s head whips around to stare at him intensely. Feels caught by the dark gaze. Mike is moving closer to him, sliding along the couch until he is directly next to Will. Making Will feel pinned like a small struggling animal inside a trap.
- “Do you really?” Mike’s voice is deep and serious.
- All Will can manage is a slow nod.
- Mike bites his lip releasing it into a small predatory smile.
- “Good. Prove it.”
- And they are kissing. Will kind of knew it was coming this time. Doesn’t mean he is prepared for the harsh way Mike grips at his face and then his neck, moving eventually down to his shoulders jerking him forward. His sharp breaths that Mike seems to swallow as his mouth seals itself against Will’s. This isn’t the first time Will has french kissed, but this time there is nothing caressing or gentle about what Mike’s tongue is doing in his mouth. Will isn’t sure if he likes it. Kissing shouldn’t feel like a fight should it? he thinks dazedly.
- He tries to retreat from the kiss, to pull it back just a little. Make it something not so... not so aggressive. But Mike just grips at his shoulders all the more desperately.
- A throaty moan, a mirror to the one Mike uttered in the alleyway that night. The one that almost sounds like its laced with pain. And suddenly Will’s hand is being grabbed and unceremoniously thrust against the front of Mike’s jeans where he can feel the hard line of his erection.
- Whatever trance Will had been operating under breaks at that. He wrenches himself backwards, feels the hot lines of broken skin where Mike’s fingernails drag against his hand that he pulls away.
- Will tries to sound firm even though he currently feels like he might shatter if pushed too hard. “You can’t keep doing this to me Mike. I-Its not appropriate and its not... nice!”
- Mike looks... Mike looks upset... then he looks annoyed, then he looks thunderous.
- “Fine. Fuck off then faggot.”
- “Mike...” Will could feel tears gathering in his eyes.
- “No really. Fuck off. I thought all of you queers were meant to be begging to get something in your mouth. I must have the most prudish fag in town right in front of me here.”
- “Stop it. You don’t mean that. Any of it.” Will hated the quaver in his voice. The trembling in his shoulders.
- Mike looked murderous as his face twisted into a sneer.
- “Oh boo hoo. Did you think I actually gave a shit about you faggot? I was just trying to get my dick wet. A mouth’s a mouth after all. Sally doesn’t let me do anal with her. Thought I might get to finally give it a go if I got you drooling enough for it...”
- Will was feeling so much. Why was Mike being like this?! Lately he had been so... and Will had thought that maybe he was...
- Then again, why was he surprised?? Wasn’t this consistent with the behaviour he had experienced for the last 4 or so years? Wasn’t this par for the course?
- “You’re a coward” Will finally managed to get out past his swollen tongue. He was sobbing openly now, he felt like the insides of his lungs were burning. “You’re just a scared little boy who doesn’t like himself and so you take it out on others. Take it out on me! Fuck you Michael Wheeler. I hope you die!”
- He was up and moving before he even recognised his legs were working. If Mike said anything after that, he did not hear it. It was like there was wind whistling in his ears and he could not grab his bike fast enough, could not pedal hard enough. He just needed to escape. Escape the words and the taunts and just... all of it.
- Escape Mike...
- Will spends the rest of the weekend in a strange funk. He replays the events over and over. Mike’s face swims in front of his eyes. Angry, sad, lascivious, lonely, desperate.... Will feels sick to his stomach. He shouldn’t have said what he said to Mike. No matter how horrible he was being, Will should have kept his cool. He knew how unstable the teen was and yet he still pushed him. He just had to push him.
- Will knew no matter what, he had to talk to Mike on Monday. He would do it in front of all of his jock friends if he had to. He would take the abuse and the bruises. He just had to tell Mike that he didn’t mean it, that he still cared.
- But... he couldn’t find him... he didn’t appear to be in any of his usual spots or in fact anywhere inside Hawkins High that bright sunny Monday. It made Will’s teeth itch and his stomach tumble with anxiety. First period, second period, all the way through to lunch.
- Will gathers a tray of food but doesn’t think he can eat. He’s staring solemnly at his tater tots when he feels his friends slide into the table across from him.
- “Will, did you hear about Mike Wheeler?”
- “What?” Will’s head snaps up, his eyes wide. “What about him?!”
- Lucas looks to Dustin who looks equally as surprised at Will’s reaction.
- “Dude’s in hospital...” Dustin says carefully.
- “WHAT?! HOW? WHAT HAPPENED?!”
- “Dude whats wrong? Why do you care so much?!”
- Will feels like he is going to throw up. “Tell me Dustin!”
- “I don’t know all the details. Apparently he fell and cracked his head open or something.”
- “Yeah I could hear the ambulance sirens from my place on Sunday morning” Lucas added. “Apparently it was some sort of bathroom freak accident. But like, not in the shower, he had his clothes on and everything. But apparently there was blood everywhere.”
- “Oh God...” Will’s head is buried in his hands. His worst fears coming to fruition right in front of him. “Oh God he did it he tried to do it. And its my fault.” Because he knows. He knows it wasn’t an accident. Mike tried to hurt himself and it was all Will’s fault because he practically told him he wished he were dead.
- And then Will is sure he’s going to throw up and so he flees the cafeteria, much to the astonishment of his friends. He empties the contents of his stomach into the nearest toilet with just a moment to spare. And even after there is nothing left to come up he still retches. Over and over again. It feels like punishment. Except its not enough. He hears the door open behind him but he just doesn’t care.
- “Will what is going on? What’s gotten into you” Will feels a soothing hand against his hair.
- “You mean what has gotten out of him?”
- “Shut up Dustin.”
- Will rolls over and looks up blearily at his two friends squished into the stall with him. “Is he okay?” he asks his voice trembling, dreading the answer.
- Dustin looks worried again. “I-I don’t know. Nobody does. But if something really bad had happened we’d hear about it right?”
- “Something really bad HAS happened. And its my fault. I need to go, I need to see him.”
- “Wait Will. Hold up. You’re not making any sense. Since when do you give a shit about Wheeler?! He’s one of the assholes that makes your life hell!” Lovely Lucas. Beautiful, sensible Lucas. He just doesn’t understand. Will needs to leave right now.
- “I-I can’t tell you. Its private. But I need to go see him. I think he tried to do something to himself and I think its because of something I did.”
- “What the fuck? What are you talking about?!”
- But its actually Dustin who shushes Lucas, pushes past him to help Will will up. He gives Will a long probing look and then rubs his shoulders a few times. “You’ll explain to us later right?”
- Will nods enthusiastically. “Cover for me?”
- Dustin smiles. “’Course bud.”
- And Will is flying. Well really, he wished he could fly. He pumps his legs as fast as they can go but it feels like he is riding through quicksand. So slow, what if its too late? What if Mike slips away from him?? He arrives at the hospital and in a daze demands the room number for Mike’s room. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so curt and rude in his life. But there is just no time.
- Until he’s in the doorway and he see’s the figure in the bed and BLESSED HALLELUJAH the figure turns to look at him with wide, surprised eyes. If Will’s cheeks weren’t already flushed from exertion he knows he would be blushing right now. But its almost like he doesn’t care.
- He rushes the bed. Thankfully there are no parents present but he thinks he would have done this even if they were.
- He pulls the boy on the bed into a hug. Clings to him. Lets desperate little cries creep out of his throat as he starts up a mantra of “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry.”
- He feels some fingers come up and kind of pat at the back of his head. “Where the fuck did you come from?” They are the same words Mike said two nights ago, but the tone is so different, so gentle.
- “School?” Will answers lamely as he leans back into a standing position.
- Mike chuckles slightly. His eyes wandering to the corner of the room.
- “I heard about your accident. W-what... what happened?”
- Mike shrugged, still staring at the edge of the room. “Head trauma. I fell and my head hit the edge of the bathtub. It was stupid.”
- “Bullshit.”
- “What?”
- “I call bullshit. Tell me what really happened Mike.”
- Mike met his gaze and his face kind of looked like he had sucked on a lemon. “I’m telling the truth goddammit! That’s what happened!! Besides what difference does it make?! Does it really matter if I tell you that after you left I got stuck into a bottle of vodka? Or that I got it into my head to take a bunch of my mother’s sleeping pills? Or that I’m now on suicide watch and they won’t let me go home? No! It makes fuck-all difference! Its not like you care you fucking son of a bitch!”
- “Don’t be thick Mike. Of course I care. What do you think I’m doing here?!”
- It’s at this point that Karen Wheeler comes wandering through the room door, styrofoam coffee in hand and Mike just rounds on her. She looks stunned when she see’s Will standing beside her son’s bed. But Mike is having none of it.
- “Get the fuck out Karen! Out! Byers and I are having a conversation!”
- Karen’s mouth falls open at her son’s violent outburst but she retreats without saying a word.
- Mike watches her go then turns his icy gaze on Will. “Right. Like I was gonna say, I know exactly why you are here. It’s guilt. Guilt for what you... what you said right before you left. Don’t try and dress it up as anything else. You just feel like maybe I did it because of what you said.”
- “Well... did you?” Its probably the least tactful thing to say but Will is feeling a bit too raw from, well, from everything.
- Mike fiddles with the bandage on his head, avoiding eyecontact. “Don’t flatter yourself. I was thinking about killing myself way before your candyass came along.”
- “But why?! How-- how could you?”
- “Because I hate my life alright?! You have no idea what it is like to be me. I’m not a good person. I bring exactly nothing positive to this world. It’s like Nancy says, I’m rotten. Good for nothing. And apparently a faggot on top of it all!”
- Mike’s last sentence hangs in the air, sharp like a knife. Filling the room with a heavy tension. The unspoken truth that felt like it had been standing in the corner of the room of every single interaction that Mike and Will had had in the last month or so. Will had known this very thing for so long but to hear Mike speak it... to see from the look of miserable horror on his face how it was slowly tearing him apart. It broke Will’s heart.
- Slowly, carefully, like dealing with a spooked animal, Will sat in the chair beside the bed. “It’s called being gay Mike. And it’s not a bad thing.”
- “It’s-- it’s disgusting...” but even Mike sounded half-hearted and defeated, the words rasping out as though on autopilot.
- “Well. I’m gay. Do you think I’m disgusting?” Will regretted the question as soon as he said it. He knew the answer. Had had it spat at him on many occasions by this very person. Maybe it would feel different this time though, now that the real truth was out in the open for once. He braced himself for the hurt.
- “No...”
- Will eyes raised to find dark brown ones fixed upon his face.
“I-I don’t think you’re disgusting... I never did... I think you’re--”
- But he never got to finish that sentence. From outside the room both boys heard the hooting and hollering that could only be achieved by adolescent boys. Many adolescent boys.
- “WHEELER!
- “WE’RE COMING FOR YOU WHEELER!”
- “WHERE YOU AT YOU PUSSY?!”
- Will recognised the voices of some of the notable figures of the Hawkins High Senior Basketball team. They sounded close.
- He suddenly felt a bruising grip on his forearm where it was lying on the mattress. Stunned, he turned to see Mike staring at him, fear in his eyes.
- “Hide!” he hissed. “They can’t see you here. Quick, the bathroom.”
- Will is about to protest. Is getting ready to argue but Mike grips him harder, almost looking like he is about to cry. “Please Will.”
- Its probably the first time Mike has said his name in... well... years. And so Will quickly darts into the adjoining bathroom, glad for his forethought to grab his backpack too. It’s gotta only be seconds later, just as he is sliding the lock home that he hears the obnoxiously loud entrance of what must be about six people.
- “WHEELER!!”
- “HOW YOU DOING YA FAG!”
- “YOU LOOK LIKE SHIT!”
- “HEY THANKS FOR GIVING US AN EXCUSE TO CUT CLASS!”
- The comments are a-plenty. Will cringes as he takes a seat on the closed toilet seat lid. He almost feels ill when he hears Mike’s voice, so unlike the soft tone of just moments before, greeting his “friends”.
- The back and forth is not particularly interesting. Will quickly grows bored of it. Mike spews his story of slipping over in the bathroom again. One of the anonymous jocks accuses him of trying to suck his own dick and that’s how he fell. Another one asked what pain meds he’s on and whether he could score him some. And yet another truly romantic soul asks if it’s okay for him to claim Sally if Mike dies because apparently that “pussy is tight as shit”.
- Will rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. He didn’t know how Mike could do this day in and day out. The Mike who guffawed along with those brainless wonders and slapped their hands in highfives and told them to “fuck off from my girl, that’s my piece of ass”... was so, so different from the Mike that sometimes would come out around Will. The Mike that reminded him achingly of the little nerd kid with the gap where his two front teeth should be and the lego Millennium Falcon figure that he had painstakingly put together all by himself. How... how was Mike not exhausted from the whole thing?? Having to act like that every, single day.
- Will can almost begin to understand how Mike’s path could have led him to where he was now. Will might not have an easy life, but at least he had people who truly loved and understood him. Who did Mike have...?
- Not one of his so-called friends have even asked how he’s feeling, whether he’s doing better. The closest they have gotten is asking him if he will be at practice this week, to which Mike answers “No. Doc says I have to take a break from basketball for awhile...” The responses range from “Fuck that!” to “You’re gonna get as soft as that Byers queer.”
- It makes Will mad. Not the comment about him. Just the fact that he’s the one hiding in he bathroom when its so glaringly evident that these boys don’t give a shit about Mike. He’s the one Mike doesn’t want to be seen with, like he’s some sort of disease. It’s not fucking fair!
- Eventually, Mike’s company leaves. Will hears Karen come back in for a moment and Mike sends her away again. Then he hears him call “You can come out now.”
- Will enters the room. He’s still feeling weird. He looks at the boy in front of him who is staring stubbornly back at him. Daring him to judge. I hate this boy, but I also kind of love him. But maybe that’s not the best thing for me... Will thinks forlornly.
- “You have shit friends.”
- “I know.”
- “They’re not real friends.”
- “I know.”
- You should not hang out with them anymore.”
- “I...”
- “You could come sit with me Lucas and Dusty again?”
- “Will...”
- “Just think about it. And you should... you should start writing again. Maybe keep a journal or something. Something to get all of those thoughts out of your head. I dunno...”
- “My therapist said the same thing.”
- “Hmm.”
- “Yeah...”
- Silence befalls them. Will sways in place, not really knowing what to do but feeling like he should do something.
- “You’re going to be okay you know.” he offers quietly, trying to sound confident in his words.
- “Sure.” Mike doesn’t seem convinced as he stares down at his blanketed lap, suddenly finding his fingers very interesting.
- “You are. Things are shitty right now. But...” Will inhales deeply, thrusting himself out into the open one last time. Giving the stupid boy in front of him a clear target to shoot him down once again. “... you have me alright? I’m here for you... if you want.”
- “Okay.” Mike doesn’t look up. But its something at least.
- “Okay... I’m gonna go...”
- “Okay...”
- Will gives an awkward wave, a hug seems a bit too much right now, and exits the hospital room. The interaction leaves an odd taste in his mouth, but deep down he knows he can only do so much. It’s up to Mike now. No more pushing.
- Mike is out of school for the rest of the week. Not that Will is looking out for him or anything. He doesn’t go back and visit him again, is not even sure if he’s been discharged from hospital or not. These days he’s living on faith a lot. Lucas and Dustin grill his ass and he tries to be honest with them. He doesn’t out Mike, but tells them pretty much everything else. They’re his best friends after all. They sit there with stunned expressions as the whole story unfolds.
- But that’s nothing compared to the looks on their faces on the following Monday when a nervous voice speaks from behind Will’s slumped form at the lunch table.
- “Can I sit here?”
- Will turns and is met with dark brown, hopeful eyes.
A.N. Ba-BAM! I have no idea what the fuck this was. And I am sorry for the weird formatting. Oh and the angst. Very sorry about that. But it would make my day if you would let me know what you thought! Thank you. Hope you enjoyed. :)
#mike wheeler#will byers#stranger things#pixie writes#homophobic!Mike AU#kind of byeler#cause its about the two boys#but also kinda not because theres no romance#i dont know how to tag that
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hhhhey could you do dustin/lucas hcs? just in general bc the bois
ohhh boy i love the bois
-They get together because all their friends are dating each other
-Mike and Will are dating and Max and El are dating so Dustin and Lucas feel really annoyed with all the PDA so they start making out like Bros do
-Spoiler alert: It’s Not Just Bro Things
-They find out it’s not just Bro Things when they’re fighting and Lucas says “Goddamnit why do I have to be in love with you?”
-Dustin starts laughing so hard he cries and then he pulls Lucas back down to wrestle with him
-They talk it out with their friends present bc like any dumb teenagers Dustin doesn’t respond to how Lucas loves him so they don’t rlly talk let alone make out for a few days and Max is done™
-Dustin “well shit does this mean we’re dating?” Henderson
-Lucas “I hate that i’m in love with you dumbass” Sinclair
-All their dates are to the arcade, like literally all of them
-2 player games? All the time now
-Dustin cheats like a mf when they’re playing together, he tickles and kisses and shoves Lucas
-“It’s to establish dominance in the relationship Lucas!”
-“Oh I’ll show you dominance!”
-Lucas gets a job at the arcade once they’re old enough and then he can edit the high scores so when he and Dustin fight he puts himself on the high score for all the games
-Dustin worked there for a day but he got fired because he was constantly challenging kids to play and he would charge them wayyyy extra if he lost, so he never did his work
-Dustin calls Lucas “Lando” as a (nerdy) pet name
-Lucas has no nickname for Dustin besides “Dumbass” and “Dipshit”
-Lucas’s little sister catches them kissing literally all the fucking time
-“So this is the real reason why you don’t hang out with girls, huh Lucas.” “Do your homework and leave us alone.”
-They never go to the snowball together because it’s too coupley but they do go to school science fair award dinners when they win
-Oh did I mention? Science power couple
-They have won the science fair for their grade every year since 5th grade and no one has the skills to beat them or even come close
-Their science teachers literally give them the keys to their rooms, and eventually when they’re older, the key to the labs
-They definitely abuse this power lowkey
-Neither of their homes have privacy, so no privacy between Lucas’s sister and Dustin’s mom they feel trapped in Hawkins when they wanna just be together
-So they hang out in trees in the woods
-(Hang out? You mean make out and bicker?)
-They have A Tree.
-It’s got a lot of branches so they end up deconstructing a waterproof tent and setting up a badly made tree house
-“Castle Byers 2.0”
-Will and Mike like to hang out there with Lucas and Dustin but they make sure to pull on the string that rings a bell just in case…
-Dustin is 100% a stoner in high school
-He’s very cuddly when he’s high, like very very cuddly
-He and Eleven get high together and they both rant about how cute their signifs are
-Lucas hates the smell of weed but he puts up with it because he loves his boyfriend
-Dustin also tells secrets when he’s high and they’re not always things he fully means so it’s a very awkward thing at first when he’s high around friends (specifically around Lucas)
-“Dude if I liked guys I’d be in love with you.” “Dustin you’re pansexual, you like everyone.” “Woah! Sweet! I love you!” “I know Dustin.”
-Dustin is pansexual and Lucas doesn’t know his sexuality, all he knows is that he loves Dustin
-“So you’re questioning?” “Yeah, questioning why I put up with your shit.”
-The walkie T A L K I E S
-They chat all night tbh, and wake each other up too
-They also learned how to hack the walkie talkies so they can hear conversations on “private” channels and that’s how they get dirt on people
-Lucas tells Dustin he hates him and it’s just the whole “no you don’t” “…no i don’t” thing
-Dustin plays music over the walkie talkies and Lucas freaks out bc Dustin it’s 1 am
-That’s how he asks him to homecoming every year once they get into high school
-Modern Love by David Bowie is the song Dustin uses every year without fail
-He plays it at 9:30 on the dot the day before homecoming and asks Lucas to “accompany him” over their walkie talkies
-Mike and Will listen in tbh
-When it’s senior year Lucas is the one to ask Dustin to prom
-The only way he beats Dustin is he calls at 9:29, a minute before Dustin was going to call, and he plays Modern Love and they both cry when Lucas goes “accompany me to Prom dipshit” and Dustin replies “Oh Lando, thought I’d have to make the first move again” (even though Dustin’s never made the first move ever)
-Dustin’s mom takes so many mf pictures and Lucas’s sister teases them for matching
-Prom is loud and they dance too much and sweat a lot
-When like literally any slow song comes on they’re kinda swaying in place and whispering
-“This is, pretty queer dude.” “Lucas how can I even begin to explain how dumb a sentence that is.”
-Fast songs they jam and lose it with their friends
-They both literally cry when the song Modern Love plays
-But they leave halfway through and hang out on the bleachers of their middle school and Dustin wants to get high but Lucas asks him to not so sweetly that he doesn’t
-Lucas lays down on the bleachers bc he’s exhausted and sweaty and gross and Dustin kinda doesn’t know what to do because it’s so intimate without being sexual
-Dustin eventually opts for taking off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt and laying with his head on Lucas’s stomach
-Lucas can’t breathE
-Will and Mike join them later and they all sit, the og 4 being so absolutely in love and so absolutely happy
-Will and Mike lowkey are making out and Lucas and Dustin just fondly look at each other bc look at those repressed feelings getting out
-Max and El come after prom is over and they go to the arcade because Lucas has a key
-Truth or dare bc they’re nerds who still love it even though they tell each other most everything
-Dustin picks truth at one point and he doesn’t want to tell the truth so he just yells “Shove a test tube up my ass!” And Lucas responds with “Ok.” causing the first death of the night to be Dustin Henderson
-Lucas and Dustin end up sleeping in the back room bc the others have left
-Boss is so pissed but honestly? They’re teens
-They make their characters fall in love in D&D, they force Mike to make it an arc
-“Come on guys we should be doing a mission!” “Mike. Please.” “No!” “You’d do it for you and Will if he asked.” “… Fine.”
-It’s a really dumb arc, lots of cheesy pining and flirting and Will absolutely thinks it is the funniest shit ever so Mike only continues it for him (and because he loves his friends)
-Lucas Sinclair is whipped
-Jump how high doesn’t even begin to cover it
-Dustin has no idea the amount of control he has
-(He does he just doesn’t use it)
-The two still bicker and wrestle a lot and now with an undercurrent of sexual tension
-“Stop looking at my boner when we fight!” both of them at some point
-Their parents just know™ even if they’ve never really come out about their relationships or sexualities
-Dustin’s mom is super supportive and gives him money for dates and lets him stay out later as long as it’s not just him and Lucas (spoiler alert: they lie a lot and are alone)
-Lucas’s mom is very skeptical that the two are being safe because they’re impulsive teenage boys but since her son already gets bullied so much she figures that she should let him live and not give him more pressure to be something he’s not
-Lucas’s dad is not homophobic, but he’s not ok with the thought that his son is growing up and falling in love, he cries a lot when thinking about how he can’t protect his son
-They flirt a lot be honest
-One time to one up Max and Eleven they started fucking going at it in the middle of the street
-Dustin does his little purr to Lucas and Lucas m e l t s
-Lucas would never admit it but that purr has been the bane of his heart’s existence since day one
-Dustin overhears Lucas’s sister call him “Lukey” and so he uses it and it annoys Lucas until the boy snaps and tells Dustin that it’s “Making him too sappy so stop”
-Lucas once calls Dustin “Han” and Dustin doesn’t shut up about it for the rest of the week
-No PDA at school they already get bullied enough, but they do leave locker notes
-Dustin keeps them in his backpack in a seperate section of his science binder
-Science & Lucas go together
-“Nice jeans Sinclair, could they get any tighter?” “Yeah they could so shut the fuck up.”
-There was unresolved sexual tension until senior year and literally all their friends noticed the resolution
-Lucas cannot stand how fluttery his heart gets when Dustin calls him nicknames
-Dustin knows this and doesn’t care
-All in all the boys are in love and :’))
#My writing#dustin henderson#lucas sinclair#dustin x lucas#dustin henderson x lucas sinclair#henclair#lustin#ducas#st#stranger things#headcanons#hcs#stranger things hcs#text
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teeeheee all asks :)
Okay I’m splitting this into several posts, so here come the first two (also I just wrote out half of these and tumblr ate them so bear with me while i try not to scream in frustration)
*Lover* Asks!
I Forgot That You Existed: What was something that you thought would kill you, but it didn’t?
My first breakup.
Cruel Summer: Describe your favorite summer fling! (or if you haven’t had one, your ideal one)
It’s summer of 2019 and I am in love, but not with the boys I’m dating. He holds my heart in his hands all summer and breaks it bit by bit. His head is on mine in the neon lights of a nightclub, our fingers intertwined. He lifts his head and meets my eyes before catching my lips in his own, once, twice, three times. We don’t speak of it again that night. He makes me feel wanted and I feel asleep with his body wrapped around mine.
He tells me he isn’t interested in me and I struggle to accept it. But he’s so important to me that I can’t let his friendship go. He kisses me again and claims he thought I was someone else. He tells me we’ll talk about it in the morning. We never speak of it again.
Lover: What song do you want to dance to at your wedding? (or if you already had one, what was your first dance to?)
You Take Me As I Am or November Song by Stornoway.
The Man: Do you deal with any stereotypes or double standards in your career?
Yeah, I’m definitely treated differently if people perceive me as female at first.
The Archer: What is one of your biggest insecurities?
My chest or thinking I’m too much for people.
I Think He Knows: What is a quality you find to be attractive in others?
Unabashed, shameless enthusiasm.
Miss Americana: What would have been your high school superlative?
I was voted most likely to be ID’d until I’m thirty which is particularly funny now as a trans man.
Paper Rings: What are the books beside your bed (your favorite ones!)?
We were liars by E. Lockhart, in the event this doesn’t fall apart by Shannon Barry and Ich Bin Linus by Linus Giese.
Cornelia Street: Do you have a “Cornelia Street,” a place made special because of someone in your life? If so, describe it!
I have a few so bear with me
A small theatre on an unassuming street in a sleepy city. Life is breathed into these halls by those who call it home. It has seen me turn from child to teenager to adult and every stage in between. I have kissed and cried and broken and burned in these halls, on this stage. I remember paint splattered jeans and tangled up arms and feet. I remember late nights with screams and cries of desperation and early mornings, constructing a world together. I have fallen in love here, had my first kiss here, confronted who I truly am here. I have grown into myself in a way that only this building has been able to witness.
A city by the sea not far from where I grew up, it has witnessed every turning point of my transition and has been present in every relationship I have ever had. It was the site of my first use of my name, the location of my first pride, the home of my trans community.
These buildings have seen thousands of students kiss and fuck and cry and love and lose over the years. I am no exception. I fell in love with others and myself here. My identity here was so intertwined in him, and relearning who I am in these walls is a long arduous journey, but one that I am glad to have been on.
Death By A Thousand Cuts: What movie has really stuck with you, emotionally?
Pride.
London Boy: If you could travel anywhere with a lover, where would you go?
New York probably, or maybe Luxembourg.
Soon You’ll Get Better: How do you cope with difficult news?
I keep a brave face if I need to but I’ll cry if its safe and okay to.
False God: Have you ever been in a long distance relationship, or would you ever consider it?
Yep, my first relationship was long distance while he was at uni and my second was long distance in the holidays.
You Need To Calm Down: How do you deal with bullies or trolls?
Generally don’t respond, if I need to get it out I’ll write out my feelings but not send them.
Afterglow: How do you react to conflicts?
I tend to try and mediate and if the other person is bad at conflict I usually write myself notes.
ME!: What is something you love about yourself?
My compassion and capacity for forgiveness.
It’s Nice To Have A Friend: Describe your oldest friend!
A tall, blonde girl sits in the corner of a room. She is largely quiet until she finds someone she likes but then you hear her sharp wit and caring side come out. She is remarkably insightful and phenomenally artistically talented. She is confident like noone else and supportive in a way you rarely see. She’ll defend her loved ones til she dies and make you regret ever crossing her.
Daylight: You are what you love; what are some of your passions?
Languages, writing, theatre, reading.
reputation asks
...Ready for It?: How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?
This kind of depends, I can get ready in 15 minutes if I’m not eating but I do prefer to give myself about an hour.
End Game: What is the best date you have ever been on, or what would your dream date be?
I’d like to meet up for lunch, take the train somewhere and explore, go to a play in the evening and spend the night stargazing and talking.
I Did Something Bad: What are your bad habits?
I bite my nails and am pretty messy.
Don’t Blame Me: What are some things you are obsessed with?
Fandomwise it’s Merlin, Harry Potter (but only the fanon aspects, canon and jkr can fuck off) and Eastenders.
Delicate: What are you insecure about?
Being too much for people.
Look What You Made Me Do: What was the last lie you told?
It was probably about how productive I’ve been.
So It Goes...: Who or what inspires you?
Honestly often it’s my siblings, and I’m also determined to make this world better for trans and queer people following me.
Gorgeous: Do you have a ‘type’? If so, describe what it is.
It’s been described as generic white boy by my friends, but I’d say tall and skinny with short dark curly hair and a big smile.
Getaway Car: Describe your dream road trip.
Driving around Europe, visiting my family and friends.
King of My Heart: If you won the lottery, what is the first luxury you would buy for yourself?
Top surgery?? Does that count?? If it has to be material probably a nice prosthetic or maybe a good camera.
Dancing With Our Hands Tied: What are some of your favorite songs?
Okay so at the moment we’re on my 2021 playlist which includes Lonely by Joel Corry, drivers license by Olivia Rodrigo, Sword from the Stone and Suzanne by Passenger.
Dress: Where do you like to shop and how would you describe your style
I usually shop at H&M and ASOS and I own a lot of tie dye and rainbow, I tend to swap between vibrant masc (green blue yellow black), muted masc (grey blue black) and rainbow.
This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things: What literary character(s) do you most identify with?
Gat and Cady from We Were Liars, Avery from Two Boys Kissing.
Call It What You Want: What is a happy memory of yours that happened in November (of any year)?
November 2016, My first binder arrives and I cry and cry when I see how flat it makes me. My mum hugs me and makes me promise I’ll be safe with it and to tell her if I need another. She asks me if I’ve made any progress on picking a name and buys me books with trans protagonists. She loves me without question.
New Year’s Day: What was the last New Years resolution you made? Did you keep it?
I actually don’t know but whatever it was, I’m certain I broke it.
Magazines: What are some of your favorite books?
Okay apart from those mentioned as my bedside ones: Two Boys Kissing, Turtles All the Way Down, I’ll Give You The Sun, An Absolutely Remarkable thing.
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An Essay about LGBTQ+ representation and art, tied up with a bit of a tribute to Stephanie Rice.
I haven’t written something like this in quite a while. But I’ve been thinking a lot this past month about stories (even more than usual). So please be patient with all the caffeinated rambling I have to do here.
Needing to tell stories is something I have always known. There’s not a point in my life that I can look back on and not find in my younger self the intense will to put words and worlds, experiences and characters on paper. I’m sure this is a thing many artists and storytellers would say about their own lives. It’s the heart hammering, hand shaking need to find an outlet for experiences, passion, compassion and emotion that answers every “how did you know you wanted to do this” question with a “because I had to.”
Being gay is something that I haven’t always known. And yes, I can look back on my life and point to moments and insecurities and road bumps that came from having always been gay. But I haven’t always known. Knowing came later. Knowing came with combined fear and confidence and the ability to eventually shatter the brick walls I’d built to hold my shoulders upright, in order to look at myself more clearly. And then I knew, and now it’s as though I always have.
I spend a lot of time thinking about my experience coming out and the experiences of other LGBT people around me, and young kids who have come out and are coming out every day, either in quiet moments to themselves, or in one big fight with their families, or again and again each day to that Uber driver or that woman next to you on the plane, or your hair dresser who always asks who you’re dating. I spend a lot of time thinking about how that experience can be made easier, how kids can be received with more love, how we can better learn who we are before the years of self doubt. And no matter how much I think about anything, I am almost always brought back to the same two ways to fix anything. 1. Through giving and compassion and 2. Through art and stories.
With each generation in the LGBTQ community, the groundwork is laid for the ones that follow. From fighting for our right to live and be seen, to demonstrating that we’re just like everyone else, the generations before mine have laid a foundation that I am fortunate and humbled to stand on. In that light, I really and truly believe that it will be my generation that brings us alive, as a community, through art, that tells stories and writes songs so that generations after us can see themselves a little sooner, can look up to more than just a handful of queer artists, can grow up knowing and with families who know that there is no one normal, no cookie cutter sexuality, no right experience.
I have few memories of experiencing media that was specifically gay, growing up. But one of the clearest I do have is watching Pretty Little Liars with my mom. I grew up in liberal Massachusetts, outside Boston with loving, accepting parents. Even still, I can vividly remember a time when Emily, a then high school student on the show kissed her girlfriend and my mother explained that she just “didn’t like to see it” that it was fine and she had “nothing against it” but “she’s just a little girl” and she didn’t want to think about it. I’m sure my mom’s response wasn’t different from many others. So often, the world is okay with kids being queer but not okay with showing them a world of experiences like theirs beforehand. My mom is one of the most loving people I know and I tell this story with a fondness. She’s always been accepting of who I am. I’ve always been safe and supported. There’s a chance she doesn’t even remember this moment because she loves me for who I am. But when all is said and done those moments happen all the time and they pile up and they mean something. They mean something because there are young kids, across the country, across the world, in less loving houses, with less accepting parents, who don’t have the word for what they feel for years and years, who are sheltered from seeing Emily Fields kiss girls on TV, who watch their parents turn off movies if two boys are in love. Those kids hear song after song on the radio where girls sing about boys and boys sing about girls. They’re raised on fairytales and animated films about Princesses who marry Princes or don’t marry at all. They flounder, they search, they look for themselves here and there and everywhere and they come up empty handed. They come up with one song by a niche band that no one else listens to, or one sad lifetime movie about a woman’s dead gay son, or one lesbian on a TV show who inevitably ends up dead.
It’s my understanding that art is never meaningless. That culture and stories are what shape who we are, our worldview, our communities. It’s my understanding that when we diversify those stories we begin to change the world, stone by stone, kid by kid.
Often, I hear other LGBTQ people talk about not wanting to be defined by being gay or bi or trans. But the more I grapple with it and the more I exist in this world, living in LA, working in television, fighting for my chance to tell stories, the more I want to scream it. I’m gay. I’m gay. I’m gay. I’m gay. Because maybe if I yell it loud enough some kid will hear it and say “hey me too.” Because maybe if I pour that pride and pain and passion into my art it will reach their television some day, their home, their couch, and even if it doesn’t change their dad’s mind, it might make them feel less alone or give them the right words for the pain and passion that they feel.
I never watched The Voice before last year. I turned on season 11, at random, because I wanted to watch Alicia Keys be a coach. At some point, I stopped. It was fun but these aren’t the kind of shows that feel like they’re for me. They feel like they’re for corn fed, middle America, fighting over this pleasant looking man or that palatable country singer. And while I’m a creative who appreciates the rise and fall and hopes and dreams of other creatives as stories, these weren’t ones I was ever invested in. This year, I again turned the show on to watch season 12. Only to watch the auditions because those are fun and I get one more season with Alicia Keys. I remember the moment the show played Stephanie Rice’s backstory. I was watching it with one of my good friends. I remember we both perked up a little more when we saw her holding hands with her fiancée. I remember watching in an odd, baited breath silence as Stephanie began to tell her story and finding myself choking up just a little. For me, that emotional choked up feeling came from hearing things that I recognized, from watching her talk about the fear of disappointing her little sisters and knowing that exact same fear, to the same hands shaking, heart in your throat need to prove it’s alright, to make your way, to have your voice heard. Even as a person who has been out for years, an adult who is comfortable and confident in my sexuality, that feeling is still there. And as I watched it and watched her speak her truth and kiss another girl back stage I was reminded again that some kid, somewhere on a couch was going to see this, and feel that reliability, and feel seen and understood and not alone. I was driven again to keep fighting to tell my own stories.
There is something significant about pain and diversity and art that isn’t discussed enough. Art is universal and can be interpreted and understood and seen and heard and felt by anyone. But there is a rare and often overlooked feeling that comes when art feels like it understands you. When someone says words or shows an emotion that you can put your finger on and say you've felt. I stuck with the Voice after that. I watched specifically to follow Stephanie’s journey. For one, because she’s an incredibly talented artist, and for two, because I have a distinct understanding of how much harder that fight to make your way is.
Just a few nights ago I was driving, after my last day at my job in the Shannara Season 2 Writers Room, at about midnight down the freeway, and I was loudly singing along to Stevie Nicks with my windows down. On my reverse alphabetical order by artist itunes library, Stephanie Rice’s cover of White Flag comes right after Stevie Nicks’s Edge of Seventeen. So I’m driving and I’m singing and I know every damn word to Dido’s White Flag because I’ve heard it a hundred thousand times before and it was never even a song I cared about or liked. But I hadn’t heard this version that many times. Here I am, twenty-six years old, yelling at top volume in my car feeling my head get sort of swallowed and overcome and numbed by emotion as I do. Because when another gay woman sang that song, it changed. Because when another person fighting and dying to get their pain and emotion out of their chest sang that song, it changed. Because the emotion she sang with is emotion I know. Because suddenly yelling that I wouldn’t put my hands up and surrender became about something different. I can’t tell you what someone else meant by their song or their voice or their story. But I can tell you how it touched me personally. And I grinned like a damn idiot in my car because I felt a little stronger and a little prouder.
I’m in the process of writing a feature/novel package with the brilliant Dawson Schachter. It’s a romance between two women. And as we work on it we keep having to remind ourselves of the reality that these stories don’t get told often, that the market for them is smaller, that they have to be palatable to the big wigs that will look at them. And that is infuriating and compromising and fucks with every better angel and creative demon you have, let me tell you. That’s the ugly part people don’t talk about. That’s the reality of being an LGBTQ creator. Being too gay or too different or not gay enough, not sensational enough, being martyred to your community when you would love just a little less pressure today, knowing the pressure is the only way, being brave because anything else has never even been an option you were given, feeling like failure means letting down that kid who needs this story, feeling like it means letting down the kid in you who needed this story and now just needs to get it out. But I also know how inspiring all those feelings can be and how it can feel like singing along at brain numbing volume to White Flag with your windows down going 90 on a freeway at midnight in Los Angeles far away from your home and your family.
To Stephanie Rice, thank you. With as much weight as I can put in those two words, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for so bravely sharing your story and your art with America. Your vulnerability and light brought a story to televisions across this country that people need. And despite that particular journey wrapping up last night, I have no doubts that you will go on to keep sharing your soul through your music. As a fellow woman, as a fellow storyteller, you reminded me why I’m doing what I’m doing and I am so grateful to have gotten to hear your truth. You have a friend and supporter in Los Angeles if ever you need one. I look forward to hearing everything else you have to tell the world.
To anyone else reading this, my friends, young LGBTQ followers, fellow writers, coworkers, strangers consider this very long ramble a plea for you to continue to back and support LGBTQ artists and youth. Continue to lend them platforms and elevate their voices. Continue to diversify the stories you tell, paint televisions and movies and the radio with kids that look like them, that sound like them, that feel like them. And please, also consider this very long ramble, another in a pile of promises I’ve already made to you, that I will never stop doing everything I can to illuminate your hearts and your souls and your stories. If I have to scream them or deliver them from the ground with bloody knuckles, I will make them heard. I hope that together, we can continue to build a foundation for generations after us, through art where exposure has opened hearts and minds, where stories have saved lives, and art has changed the world. We fight, as we always have, for a better, louder, prouder, safer, and more inclusive future.
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