Over 90% of parents of visibly intersex children opt for cosmetic surgery on their infants.
The ones that don't experience medical violence then, likely experience it as a teenager.
I didn't.
I am very rare in that I did not experience medical violence.
Why? Because I learned what intersexuality was as a young age, and I actively fought against what doctors wanted to do to me. All the way down to legal research on what medical care minors can be forced into. I remember walking into that doctor's appointment with the state law written down that proved that if I did not consent they could not do surgery.
That is why intersex activism is important. It saved me and it will save more.
"On the difference between transgender and intersex individuals
I think the biggest difference is consent. They're trans young people who are like, "these experiences during puberty are making me feel uncomfortable, and I want to be able to stop that." Intersex young people don't get to make those decisions about their bodies. It's more so, we're told that these procedures need to be done for our wellness. But what is underlying that, is that we're actually abnormal, that we actually need to be fixed to be normal. And those are just lies, and it's paranoia."
Me, tears streaming down my face, sobbing, as I stare at the stars: it’s just so beautiful
The medieval peasant I went back in time to give a bag of Doritos to, concerned: what terrible and powerful sorcerers they must have in your age, to be able to veil the vault of heaven itself from view, as you say
Me, sniffling: I didn’t realize, I can’t, it’s so much, I, I… are the chips good, at least?
Medieval peasant, trying to make me feel better: they’re… magical, strange traveler
It stayed hidden, kept between his backpack and the back of his desk drawer when he wasn’t writing in it. Very rarely it left his house.
It wasn’t a diary. It wasn’t a journal. It was his notebook.
Steve had a notebook.
Steve can’t find the damn notebook.
Since his parents have decided they weren’t ever coming back to Hawkins, he was a little more relaxed about where he left it. And now he can’t find it.
He was halfway through tearing up the living room when Robin came over.
She had to shout to get his attention, “What are you doing?”
“I can’t find my notebook,” Steve griped, shoving his arm widely underneath the couch. “I swear I had it yesterday.”
“What notebook?” Robin asked.
“The black one,” Steve said. It’s no use. He can’t see under the couch anymore, and his arm is covered in dust bunnies. He just needed to move the couch completely. He stood back up, about to ask for Robin’s help when he sees her red face.
“Robin?” Steve asked cautiously.
“It was on the kitchen island,” she squeaked.
He turned to look towards the kitchen, already torn up. He quickly scanned the island, seeing no notebook in sight.
“No,” Robin said. “Yesterday.”
“Robin,” Steve said slowly. “Where did it go?”
“I thought it was Eddie’s,” Robin admitted. “He was cleaning up from DND and I thought it was one of his little dungeon story things. He took it from me! He didn’t say anything!”
“Oh my god, Robin!” Steve groaned, running his clean hand over his face. “You didn’t!”
“You can ask for it back,” Robin suggested. “It’s not like he wouldn’t give it back.”
“Oh my god,” Steve repeated. “Oh my god!”
“What?” Robin asked. “What’s so bad about your little notebook full of secrets? Your grocery list? Your to do list? Family’s secret recipes —“
“It’s about Eddie,” Steve snapped. “All of it. It’s just — all about Eddie.”
He sighed, sitting down on the couch. He brought his head to his knees.
He exhaled slowly.
“I had that notebook since senior year. Every thought I had about Eddie is in that book.”
Robin sat down next to Steve. She extended an open palm towards Steve. Steve took it, intertwining their fingers. “Every thought?”
Steve nodded. “So I guess he’ll know now. Either he lets me down easy or I out freak the freak.”
“Come on,” Robin groaned. “You can’t tell me that Eddie wouldn’t be into you.”
Steve shot Robin a glare. “Not the time.”
Robin raised her free hand up. “Look, we can just go to his house and get it. Maybe he hasn’t even opened it! Didn’t realize it wasn’t one of his notebooks and he ignored it. We just ask for it back, and everything will be okay. Okay?”
Steve looked at Robin cautiously. “You don’t think he’s opened it?”
Robin blew raspberries. “Not a chance! Let’s go!”
Eddie had the notebook.
The Notebook.
The one Steve Harrington kept locked away at any given point.
Eddie has seen it in action. When Steve doesn’t think anyone’s watching. When he’s alone at Family Video, jotting something down between customers.
Or when he’s sitting in the back of the Wheeler’s basement, writing instead of paying attention to the movie. Or when they are in the middle of Dungeons and Dragons, he’ll be in the kitchen, writing furiously.
Eddie joked to himself that Steve was writing Spirk fanfiction.
That he was obsessed with Spock fucking Captain Kirk out of his mind. A dark part of Eddie wondered if Steve was writing his last will and testament, a martyr ready to go at any moment.
What he didn’t expect to find was — well, himself.
He didn’t realize he had Steve’s notebook. It was piled onto his crate of dungeon master stuff. He didn’t know he had ownership of such a valuable item until he was organizing the crate this morning, getting his notes together for the next session.
He stared at the notebook in hand, trying to remember what notes he written inside.
When he opened it, he realized it wasn’t his at all.
It was Steve’s notebook.
He knew that handwriting. He needed to shut it — except he saw his name.
10.23.84
Eddie Munson would make a pretty girl. He’s got big dark eyes like Bambi. Wild hair, big and Curly.
I can’t tell if it’s natural or permed. But it’s nice.
He’s nice.
He’s got a nice voice. Deep. Smooth. Ms. Click made him read out loud today. It’s the only time I’ve paid attention in this dumb class. Hes like a storyteller. I didn’t want him to stop.
I wish he was in all my classes.
11.5.84
Finally spoke to Eddie one on one. Sold me some weed. Said he was sorry that Billy got the one up on me.
Said something about Billy listens to Mott Lee Crew and it’s terrible music.
Gave me a discount on my weed.
He’s still nice.
11.7.84
I dreamed about him. He kissed me. He was still a boy. I [eraser marks tore up the paper]
3.2.85
He’s barely in school anymore.
I think they told him he wasn’t graduating.
Someone said he went to California to get a record deal. I’ll never see him again.
3.15.85
He’s back. He’s sad. Didn’t work out.
I hate to admit it, but I’m glad.
6.28.85
I saw him in the mall.
I hid in the damn freezers for my 10 minute break.
Robin hates my guts. Said I was gonna get freezer burn. Said it might help with the ladies.
I dont think I want them anymore.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. The girls are hot. Obviously.
But then there’s him.
He’s got long hair like a girl, but no boobs. He’s got scruff he forgot to shave and I want to touch it.
He’s not a girl. He’s never been a girl to me.
But the feeling is the same. Like if he was a girl.
What’s wrong with me?
7.5.85
I’m not alone.
I’m not broken.
If [scribbled out] is like this, then it’s okay. It’s not wrong. It’s okay.
I’m okay.
I just — [scribbled out]
I’m okay.
7.8.85
He gave me my weed for free this time. Didn’t say anything more. He apologized like it was his fault. I couldn’t form a straight thought. I just shrugged. Like a dumbass. He threw in another joint.
He’s so nice.
8.15.85
I convinced Robin to go to the hideout.
Eddie’s a fucking rockstar.
It’s like he was meant to be up there. Center stage, rocking like he’s some big celebrity. His grin is wild and it feels like it’s aimed directly at me.
I wish it was true.
10.1.85
Bisexual.
It’s called bisexual.
11.15.85
Of course the kids find him.
They said they had a new doofuses and dorkuses group. Never said it was Eddie.
He’s so good with the kids. He’s taken them under his wing and protecting them from Jason’s douche bags.
God.
Is it weird that it makes him hotter?
2.13.86
He swung by family video today. Grabbed a few movies and a jiffy pop. Said he’s got big plans. A couple of horror movies.
Didn’t say with someone.
Didn’t say alone.
Just that he’s got plans. On Valentine’s Day.
It hurts. I don’t want to think about it.
3.29.86
He’s alive.
He’s ALIVE.
He woke up yesterday. Briefly. Looked at me with his big brown eyes and smiled. Mumbled something about a guardian angel and fell back asleep.
He’s more awake today. Up about 20 minutes at a time. Remembering more.
He calls me sweetheart and Stevie.
I don’t want him to remember me. I’m not king Steve. I want to be Stevie. Want to be good.
Want Eddie to see the real me now. Not to think about how I was.
5.4.86
He’s so beautiful.
7.6.86
He let me stay with him over the Fourth of July.
He said he remembered how I looked on his porch last year. He made the connection to the upside down a few weeks ago. Didn’t want me to be alone.
I slept in his bed. I slept next to him. His whole room smells like him and I never want to leave.
7.26.86
I did a dumb thing. I bought tickets for Metallica for Eddie. I went with him. Drove him down to Evansville. The singe broke his arm, so it was just Ozzy.
But Eddie was so excited. He looked so natural there. Surrounded by music he loves and people like him.
No one knew him. He was just another guy in the crowd. I couldn’t tell you what songs Ozzy did. But I bet Eddie could.
He looked so good there. So [eraser marks]
Happy looks good on him.
9.3.86
Eddie never ceases to amaze me when he DMs. He’s like a cartoon, wild and fun and care free.
His smile is so genuine, it made everything worth it. Sometimes, he glances at me and I feel butterflies in my gut. For a split second, his attention is on ME and nothing else in the world matters. It feels like he loves me too —
Eddie slammed the book shut.
Loves.
Not likes.
Loves.
He did.
He loves Steve. Has for a while now.
He had a crush on him since his stupid coiffed hair and his dumb polos were hanging off of Nancy at any given moment.
Eddie didn’t think he had a chance. He didn’t think Steve liked him that way. That Steve could like him that way.
And now he knows.
Steve loves him.
Eddie read his notebook and he knows Steve’s secret.
Steve’s going to be so pissed.
How was Eddie going to tell Steve that he loved him back, that he felt the same way, without admitting to violating his privacy?
The screen door creaked open.
“Eddie?” Robin called. “You awake? And decent?”
Eddie sighed in relief. It was just Robin —
“Eds —“
Steve poked his head into Eddie’s room, his eyes wide as he locked onto the notebook in Eddie’s hands.
Shit.
Steve stared at the notebook.
His notebook.
Open.
In Eddie’s hands.
And he’s pretty sure he’s on the last entry.
The one from yesterday, while they were playing dungeons and dragons. The one where he admits he’s finally in love with Eddie.
How does he explain it? Blow it off? Pretend that Eddie’s not holding his heart in his hands.
“Eddie, I’m —“
“I’m gay!” Eddie shouted, startling Steve in the doorway and Robin in the living room. A silent beat passed before Eddie continued, his words spilling out a mile a minute. “I’m gay and I’m so in love with you and I’m so sorry for reading this, I thought it was mine and clearly it’s not, but I saw my name and — that’s no excuse because I should’ve stopped and I violated your privacy and everything but if I didn’t, we wouldn’t be having this conversation and I couldn’t tell you that me — me too.”
He took a hasty breath, pointing to his chest.
“Me. Gay. Love. You.”
Steve stared at him for a moment, processing. His heart is beating through his chest. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind. The terrible possibilities that he’s making this up. That Eddie didn’t say those words. Or Eddie’s only saying it to make him feel better.
But what if he’s honest?
What if this works out?
“Not a joke?” Steve asked, his voice hardly louder than a whisper. He felt like a deer, ready to take off at the next loud noise.
“Not a joke,” Eddie said, slowly standing up, like he knows Steve’s nervous. Dropped the notebook on the bed.
Steve’s eyes quickly darted to it, thinking if he’s fast, he could grab it and make a run for it. He held his hands in front of his chest, palms exposed to Steve. He slowly approached him until he was close enough to brush his hand against Steve’s arm. Eddie’s fingertips ran down Steve’s arm, stopping at his hand.
“I promise you, Steve,” Eddie whispered. “I love you, too. I just — didn’t think you were like me. That this would be possible. So I thought I’d be content being you friend.” He slipped his hand into Steve’s. “That if the only way I could have you was as my friend, then I’d shove my feelings down and pretend that I didn’t have this big crush on you.”
“And —“ Steve swallowed nervously. “And you’re not just saying this? To make me feel better?”
Eddie pulled away. Steve felt his heart stop.
Then Eddie practically dove onto his bed, shoving his arm between the mattress and the wall. His tongue stuck out in concentration as he reached. Steve couldn’t help but laugh.
Then — Eddie pulled out a yellow spiral notebook.
In big, black permanent marker, the cover read: EDDIES! DO NOT TOUCH
Steve kind of swore under his breath, realizing he should’ve put his name on the cover. But the “do not touch” may have incentivize the teens to open it.
Eddie sat on his bed, opening the notebook. He looked up at Steve and patted the spot next to him.
Steve hesitated. He swayed in the doorway before Robin gently pushed him forward. He closed the small gap and crawled on the bed. Eddie leaned in close, showing the open notebook to Steve.
“It’s only fair,” Eddie said quietly. “That you get to read my heart, too.”
Steve studied Eddie for a moment, lost in the beauty of him up close.
He could see the reddish brown of his dark eyes, the small freckles hidden in his pale skin, the way his sheepish smile is pulled tight on one side from the scarring.
He could see how vulnerable he is in this moment.
Steve looked down at the notebook in his hands.
THE SUN
The warmth of your smile
Like rays of a sun
Leave your mark on my skin
Let me bask, turn it red
Let me stay in your orbit
floating around you
Because there’s no where else I’d want to be
HAZY
I’m in a cloud of haze
When I’m around you
Your eyes on me
The whole world focused on me
Like the roar of the ocean
Like the soft grass
Like the rich earth
Hazy hazy hazy
I’m in a cloud of haze
THE DREAMER
he said when we go
He wants the east room
The sun rises in the east
And falls to the west
And all I can think about
Is we, we, we
Like a sweet dream
Haunting me
I think of easy Saturdays in the kitchen
Dancing around breakfast
The radio on something sickly sweet
Like Lauper or Loverboy
Like Mercury singing about love
And he’d see me
Like I see him
And he would want me
Like I want him
And all I can dream about
Is us, us, us
Steve looked up at Eddie, eyes wide. “You mean it?”
“Every word,” Eddie breathed. “They’re — uh — songs. Most of them. Not like — not like corroded coffin stuff. They’re meant for the Machine.” Eddie nodded toward the acoustic guitar.
“You wrote songs about me,” Steve repeated. “For me.”
“Technically you were never supposed to hear them,” Eddie said sheepishly. “But I thought it was only fair. Notebook for a notebook.”
“Eddie,” Steve’s eyes drifted to his lips, snapping back up. “I’m gonna kiss you.”
“Fuck yes,” Eddie breathed, leaning in.
Steve kissed Eddie.
Oh my god he’s kissing Eddie! He cupped Eddie’s jaw, feeling the stubble against his palm. He felt Eddie lick against his lips —
“I’m gonna go,” Robin cleared her throat. “Not that I’m not happy for you two. It’s just — I don’t know what you’re gonna do next.”
“Yeah,” Eddie laughed, his hand playing at the hem of Steve’s shirt. “Maybe — maybe you should.”
“Ew —“ Robin said turning away. “Eddie that’s my SISTER —“
“Robin —“ Steve interrupted, turning to look at her with a soft smile. “Thank you. For giving Eddie my notebook.”
Robin smiled back. “You’re welcome. Eddie — don’t deflower my SISTER. He’s a RESPECTED member of Hawkins!”
“No promises,” Eddie smirked. “Now that he’s mine, I’m never letting go.”
“Yeah?” Steve breathed. He felt like he was full of butterflies, ready to take off. “You’re mine, too.”
thought about that quote "homosexuality exists in 1000+ species, homophobia only exists in one" but how awkward would it be if we discovered another species that was homophobic
"homosexuality exists in 1000+ species, homophobia only exists in two. what? oh, humans, and the yellow-patched cuboid pinecone wren that was recently discovered on an island off the coast of canada. they're fucking bigots"
People on Tumblr love sharing information about themselves no matter how asinine it is. And I'm the same way. Everybody tell me what the last thing you drank was.
tangentwithtanner
gummygunk
andulkaphoto
romaincrisis
origamiaround
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
