Each year, media of both the queer and heterosexual variety churn out an array of cultural retrospectives and trend forecasting in anticipation of the Gregorian calendar change. Podcasting is back! Big engagement rings are gauche! Time to invest in Unilever! The “Ins” and “Outs” of the year are endless, at times nonsensical, and often esoteric.
All that to say, the staff over here on this website wanted to pool our opinions together and put some spin on trend forecasting, specific to our gay little bubble. As journalists and editors on the frontlines of news and internet culture, we actually do notice emerging sentiment, new headwinds, and pivots in the homo-sapphic-trans zeitgeist.
So, here are the staff’s “ins” for next year and “outs” from this past year — some serious, some not-so-serious. Though 2025 places some stressful tasks on queer and trans people — update your IDs, batten down the hatches, build collective power — next year, I also want us to prioritize having some serious fun. I want us to be goofing off like it’s our job.
With that in mind, don’t take this list *too* seriously, or risk becoming the arbiter of your own anguish. This staff contains a multiplicity of opinions and likely so do you; if you want to skip around on this list, you can do so using the clickable index below. — Fran Tirado
IN
Pope Innocentius is more than just a man, he’s an idea. The papal election drama Conclave was obviously a work of fiction, no matter how much I wish Stanley Tucci were actually in the running to helm Catholicism’s largest branch of government. But the film was also set against the backdrop of real-life issues: Islamophobia, gays and women in the church, and a seemingly endless tension between traditionalism and religious reform.
But Cardinal Benitez (Carlos Diehz), a.k.a. Pope Innocentius, a.k.a. The People’s Pope, cuts through the noise. In a third-act speech, he captures exactly the kind of energy we need to bring into 2025: hope, inclusion, and empathy across divides.
Also robes. Let’s all wear robes, too. — Samantha Allen
I am literally always saying this, but it seems indisputable that My Chemical Romance is absolutely in for next year. In November, the band announced that it would be hitting 10 American cities next summer, in honor of their seminal 2006 album The Black Parade, and within a matter of hours, the tour completely sold out.
Beyond MCR’s irrefutable staying power in counterculture, the band has also been teasing new details in the already-extensive lore of the concept album. The description for a recent YouTube video on the band’s channel, written in a style reminiscent of a Star Wars intro scroll, makes mention of a dictator coming to power in a country called Draag, and that the Black Parade is “His Grand Immortal Dictator’s National Band.” (They are not a band known for their subtlety, and I mean… the whole “fascism” vibe is, much to our chagrin, very much back in for 2025 as well.)
As goth revivalism continues to swell, what better band to bring it back than My Chemical Romance? To borrow a turn of phrase, darken your clothes and strike a violent pose. — James Factora
Look, 2025 has to be the year we accept that falling for misinformation online is not exclusively the purview of conspiracy theorists and moms on Facebook. Yes, a lot of people shared edits of Luigi Mangione’s social media and such that were intended as jokes — and yet, I also saw people earnestly believing that the cops allowed him to play Charli XCX as he was taken into custody, which is obviously… not true. On a larger scale, the Boston Globe called cis Olympian boxer Imane Khelif a “transgender boxer,” which they immediately apologized for, but this misinformation only fueled the flames of those who were already transvestigating her.
And yes, maybe my gripe with this is a little personal — looking at you, beloved commenters who love to take us to task over Instagram captions very clearly without reading the article — but it’s sincerely something that should worry us all. Trump and his ilk thrive on mis- and disinformation. That’s part of the reason why they’ve mounted so many attacks on the educational system. In the coming era, it’s going to be especially crucial for all of us to know how to discern fact from fiction. If you’re looking to sharpen your media literacy skills, here’s a page with a bunch of great resources. — James Factora
Yeah, yeah. The “manosphere” reportedly won the election. And while Joe Rogan and his gang of goons are free to do their own thing on Quora (or wherever you lurk, that’s not my business), we trans people will be on TikTok, Signal, Bluesky, Reddit, Twitch, and Offline, gassing each other up, resource sharing, and building a cultural power that society continues to underestimate.
Men, I hope you enjoy Joker: Folie à Deux! We’ll be over here building our own societies, patron saints, canons, covens, strip clubs, video games, inside jokes, archives, traditions, historic figures, citizenships, legal documents, emergency response systems, it girls, auteurs, beauty standards, swag, slang, and sex tips. Lots and lots of sex tips. Hell, we even have our own mosquitoes. — Fran Tirado
The premiere of practical effects masterpiece The Substance confirmed it: we are so back. If you’re a horror movie stan, or a movie stan in general, retro movie effects likely hold a special place in your heart — just think of the visceral campiness of the ’80s classic Hellraiser. Yet over the years, the Marvelfication of Hollywood has led filmmakers to pick computer-generated simulations over the real thing. (The 2022 Hellraiser remake starring Jaime Clayton chose VFX over cornstarch and red dye.)
Thankfully, 2024 titles like Fantasmas, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, Terrifier 3, and Alien: Romulus all brought good old nostalgic effects back to our screens. Even Wicked went out of its way to build practical sets and props — Jon M. Chu reportedly planted 9 million poppies to make his Oz. Now that’s cinema! — Quispe López
Let a pillow princess live! Or pillow prince, whatever is your tea. Who are you to stop a couple pleasure seekers from living out the historical roles of their ancestors and trancestors? Afterall, stone tops and bottoms helped build the queer liberation movement of today. (No further explanation on that at this time.)
Sexual shaming is out, owning what feels good to you is in. And the only thing that feels better than reading Stone Butch Blues again, is having sex where you just get to lay there. And not only do you just get to lay there, but your partner wants you to just lay there. They like you like that. See how expansive pleasure can be? — Quispe López
Look, I know inflation is bad and many of us are on a budget. But you know what else is bad? Everything else. In times like these, it’s the little things that get us through. And nothing brings me joy, personally, like a perfect little every day accessory, especially one that has a long history of being a queer calling card and is actually functional. We’ve fallen into an era of fast fashion where once-sturdy items like carabiners are cheap and break easily — literally the opposite of what they’re supposed to do. No longer. Next year is all about investing in the things that make us happy and preparing for the apocalypse. Expensive carabiners check both boxes. Just something to consider. — Sarah Burke
With the arrival of new gods like Imane Khelif, Katy O’Brian, and Jaycee Cooper, society feels more than primed to welcome an enclave of majestic and muscular women — women that have always been here, but are getting a new moment in the spotlight.
And this “trend” is yet another way that transcultural production informs the mainstream. “Queer and trans people have always broken gender norms, and have often been punished for doing so,” writes Frankie De La Cretaz in an essay on the topic. “What might it look like to uplift trans bodies in a bigger way as a reclamation of the monstrosity that is placed on trans people for living in their bodies?” — Fran Tirado
It brings me no pleasure to say this, but theater kids are so back. We need only look to the Wicked press tour, as well as the fact that the Wicked movie has been an almost inescapably viral hit. (I can think of at least three TikTok trends off the top of my head right now that are Wicked-related.)
Being a theater kid is all about wearing your heart on your sleeve — so wear it proud, my beloved stage managers and harmonizers. Next year you will zip zap zop like you’ve never zip zap zopped before. That brand of earnestness — the kind that led to the infamous “holding of space” — is also on its way back, and you don’t even need to be into theater to partake. — James Factora
The end of capitalism is nye, but until then, we have to do the little things we can within our own communities to undermine it. Instead of paying with cold hard cash, or bitcoin, or NFTs or whatever, why not exchange what you can for goods and services?
Afterall, queers famously have a multiplicity of skills we can offer in exchange. Need a haircut but don’t have the funds? Offer those two loaves of sourdough you baked with your girlfriend. Want a tattoo without traceable currency? Build the artist a bike out of free parts (we know you handy queers are reading this). Next year will be the year to think beyond the boundaries confining us and build something better in their place. — Quispe López
I am admittedly biased as someone who is not just “in queer media,” as Out’s Tracy E. Gilchrist memorably described her own profession while interviewing Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo, but as someone who helps run the gay website you are reading right now. That conflict of interest won’t stop me from saying that LGBTQ+ journalism is pretty cool, actually, and deserves your support now more than ever.
In an alienated and irony-poisoned digital age, it’s easy to forget that there are real-life people on the other side of your computer screen. But we are, in fact, real-life queer and trans people working in a precarious industry. Editors and designers, fact-checkers and reporters, mentors, sensitivity readers, and gut-checkers — there’s an entire ecosystem devoted to making sure the information you read is accurate, ethical, intentional, and sometimes funny, too. We publish stories for and about our own community because we genuinely do love you.
Love us back? And more specifically, love us back by clicking on and sharing our articles. — Samantha Allen
While I, personally, believe that reading smut has never been out — I've been a devoted fan since 2008, thank you, Tumblr — I can also admit that 2025 will be the year of reading (more) smut.
Horny literate hive rise up! Porn can be lackluster, but the written word is hot, hot, hot. If you've never partaken before, the smut in question could be steamy books, or written erotica, or fanfiction — often featuring canonically straight characters (think: Eloise Bridgerton and Cressida Cowper) — of the sexual sort. Don't we deserve to disassociate and enjoy some sexy fantasies, now more than ever? Or now, just as much as ever, tbh.
Plus, if your goal is to read more next year, it's the perfect way to get off your phone and spark your love for literature once more. — Ana Osorno
I’m not going to name names, but something I’ve felt again and again this year is, “We’ve made the wrong people famous.” I know, it’s not the most cheery sentiment, but it’s time to put the folks who’ve legitimately paved the way more squarely in the spotlight — not because they need that, but because we need them.
Let’s start with Susan Stryker, the historian and scholar responsible for nurturing trans studies as a discipline. Since Trump’s reelection, her landmark 1994 essay, “My Words to Victor Frankenstein Above the Village of Chamounix” has been both balm and rallying cry. In it, she casts herself in the lineage of Frankenstein’s monster — an unnatural assemblage of flesh whose monstrosity is intrinsic to its power. “Like that creature, I assert my worth as a monster in spite of the conditions my monstrosity requires me to face, and redefine a life worth living,” she writes, closing her 30-year-old “monstrous benediction” with an entreaty to “nourish” our “rage,” as it remains one of the most valuable tools at our disposal: “May your rage inform your actions, and your actions transform you as you struggle to transform your world.”
Now that is brat. — Wren Sanders
Let’s be real, dating apps have never been kind to those outside the “G” in LGBTQ+. If there’s one thing cishets are gonna do, it's create an absolutely untenable emotional environment for something as simple as trying to hook up. Not to mention, trans people always get kicked off for no reason, even when we’re the most-searched tail on these god forsaken places.
We’re here to tell you that the gay hookup app Sniffies is, well — it can be just as toxic as the other apps, to be honest. In fact, it’s even seedier — but its self-aware seediness is actually its core strength. Unlike the other apps, Sniffies has an egalitarian kind of risk factor, opening you up to a sea of dicks, holes, and torsos right in your back yard. Knowing you all are there, anonymous, in the seedy place together, can quickly endear you to other users with expediency and a total absence of shame. Though the app is made and marketed for cis gay men, there are a noted number of non-cis-gay men on there now, so have at it, skeptics. — Fran Tirado
It’s been a big year for bisexuality. The release of Challengers arguably set the tone for the rest of the year, what with its intricate rituals and phallic churros. Tyler, the Creator dropped what I argued is his most bisexual album yet, including a song featuring fellow bicon Doechii. On trend, the latter rapper has had her own (well-deserved) moment this year, which has included taking The Breakfast Club to task on bisexuality — oh, and not to mention her first Grammy noms.
Obviously it’s not as if being attracted to multiple genders is new. But as far as the mainstream image of bisexuality goes, it feels like we’ve finally progressed beyond tired jokes about cuffing your jeans, not being able to sit in chairs properly, and doing finger guns, or whatever. — James Factora
OUT
Dearest frociaggine, this year’s been a rollercoaster. No imperialism, but the first time Pope Francis was caught saying an anti-gay slur, we were honestly kind of living for it. The infallible head of the Holy See, in all his sovereignty, saying the quiet part out loud? The irony was delicious, even if only for a moment. But by the time the Pope said the word a reported second time, the cycle completed itself and we were reminded once again of the Church’s hypocrisy. Baptizing trans people or blessing same-sex couples doesn’t mean much if your institution excludes women leaders and whispers bigotry behind closed doors.
This brings us to an important virtue of queer life: The Pope has no power here. He cannot touch us even if he tried. Though he is one of the most influential people in the world, he is also just a guy. A guy muttering his little slurs in his little dress and his little slippers. Pobrecito. — Fran Tirado
This year began with “associates” of Taylor Swift cracking down hard on Gaylorism, the (honestly kind of exhausting) theory that the pop superstar was secretly bisexual and sending veiled messages about romantic relationships with female friends through easter eggs in her song lyrics and album promotional cycles. Next year is the time for us to stop obsessing about whether or not celebrities are queer and just be as queer as humanly possible ourselves. Put away the cork board and be the gay you wish to see in the world. (For safety reasons, we want to state unequivocally that this is in no way meant to be disparaging toward Taylor Swift, please stand down, Swifties.) — Samantha Allen
If theater kids and their associated brand of earnestness are in, irony (as a dominant cultural sensibility) is officially out. I love a good, hearty dose of irony every now and then, but I also feel as though the first half of this decade has been far too irony-poisoned. Perhaps that was a response, an emotional anesthetic of sorts, to the horror of the first few years of the COVID-19 pandemic. But after Israel began its latest siege on Palestine over a year ago, it seemed as though even the most prolific shitposters realized that now is not the time to cloak everything in sarcasm and derision. As Ethel Cain said in a (now-deleted) Tumblr post earlier this year, “Insecurity in one's own deeper feelings may not be a new thing, but a culture that seems to promote this eschewing of them does seem to be a new evil.” Personally, that’s an evil I’m rebuking. — James Factora
As a transmasc faggot, I’ve been lucky to pretty much steer clear of “the manosphere” — until this year. It was funny to joke about men with podcasts because, frankly, I don’t know any guys who actually listen to podcasts. Unfortunately for me — and all of us — the results of the 2024 presidential election have made it impossible to ignore any longer.
For those unfamiliar, “the manosphere” refers to the online community and network of men amping each other up in a cultural environment that has increasingly woken up to their downfalls. And where some in the manosphere are lost, misinformed, misunderstood, or beholden to dangerous group think, their loudest base usually features virulently misogynistic content creators — podcasters, YouTubers, and influencers across platforms — spewing conspiracy theories that the world is out to get cis-het men. It is so beyond out, even in a joking-about-the-manosphere way. But leave the door of opportunity open for some to join the Tranosphere whenever they like. Come on in, the water’s warm. — Quispe López
As if we haven’t suffered enough, 2024 was a year of gay stuff getting removed from our favorite pieces of media. In fact, it is alleged to have happened not once but twice on the stacked-with-hunks movie Gladiator II. If excising gay kisses featuring Denzel Washington and Paul Mescal doesn’t offend you to your core, get this: A romantic scene between fan favorite couple Caitlyn and Vi on season two of Netflix’s Arcane was reportedly toned down in the final cut, angering fans, over 66,000 of which at the time of writing signed a Change.org petition to demand the extended cut be released.
The trend isn't limited to kissing, by the way: ex-Pixar employees said they were repeatedly told by executives to make the movie “less gay.” Oh and it also doesn’t stop with gay stuff! Disney recently confirmed it cut a trans storyline from its kids’ show Win or Lose. Gross! The company is also accused of shelving a whole-ass episode of its show Moon Girl and the Devil Dinosaur because it featured a trans athlete. We deserve way better. Give us a year of trans characters and steamy, sloppy, sexy gay necking right now as penance. — Sally Tamarkin
No, douching doesn’t need to take hours. No, you don’t need saline or a special diet. And no, please god, do not take 10 imodiums. For eons, gay men (and their enablers) have been passing down misinformation about something that is admittedly precarious, yet more simple than it's made out to be. Yes, it takes practice, and yes, it requires intentional customization for the specific needs of your body and comfort. But in the Bottomsphere, I fear, we’ve forgotten that anal sex is supposed to be fun! So why do we stress about douching like the rectum is a Swedish puzzle box? The stakes are low, bro. If your body isn’t having it, you can always do side stuff.
Check one of our many douching guides to stay on trend. And, just putting it out there, some anal-sex havers do not douche at all. Couldn’t be me, but that option is always available to you. — Fran Tirado
What in the heck happened in 2024 that all of a sudden there were multiple trend pieces, histories, updates, and even Fashion Week reports about how “dressing like a Lesbian” and “Sapphic Style” is totally en vogue right now?
No really, I need someone to explain to me why. My only theory is that a golden age of gay girl pop stars helped bring some buzzwords to the ivory towers only to be watered down and disseminated to *checks notes* The New York Post? First of all, lesbians are not a monolith and there are 10 million (exact figure) ways that sapphics can dress, whether they’re a Hey Mamas lesbian or a Carhartts devotee. There are many lesbians that do not “dress like a lesbian,” whatever that means. And for the record, the impact of gay women’s personal style was never “out.”
I am here to remind you that trend forecasting a historically marginalized class of any kind is generally considered de rigueur. Not since metrosexuality have we seen a more heinous trend alert. Make it stop now please. — Fran Tirado
I’m going to be honest, I’m still not sure I fully understand the “looksmaxxing” trend, but that’s because I didn’t have time for it this year, and I know I definitely won’t have time for it next year. None of us will. As far as I know, it’s about trying to be the hottest version of yourself by following (in my opinion) bogus viral techniques like “mewing” and mouthtaping and obsessively counting calories and working out. If you haven’t realized yet, things are going downhill fast. And the last thing I want to be doing in The End is deciding which cortisol-lowering drink I should buy off the TikTok shop so that my face looks skinnier. In 2025, being your hottest self is about helping your community and doing whatever the hell makes you happy. I really doubt that’s mimicking Patrick Bateman and Cassie Howard’s morning routines to match the eurocentric ideal. — Sarah Burke
As a (reluctant) theater kid myself, I must admit that the wave of blockbuster movie musicals in the past few years has been very exciting to me. Less exciting to me, though, are the directors who appear to be capitalizing on that trend by incorporating music into their films, but seemingly without any understanding of what makes a musical actually good. Yes, I’m looking at you Joker: Folie à Deux and Emilia Pérez. When you start singing about vaginoplasty and the song doesn’t even have the decency to be catchy? It's a wrap. — James Factora
She’s the highest court in the United States and has issued some of the most iconic rulings in the history of jurisprudence. Unfortunately, SCOTUS is currently made up of six justices appointed by Republican presidents (including three by Trump himself) and just three by Democratic presidents. Senator Mitch McConnell and Trump himself have ensured that in 2025 we have what has been called the most conservative Supreme Court in the history of the United States. It was just over two years ago when they issued a ruling in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization — along expected ideological lines — that revoked the constitutional right to an abortion.
Some other SCOTUS hits from 2024: their ruling that former presidents can’t be held criminally liable for their official acts and their decision in May allowing South Carolina’s racist gerrymandering to continue. I think that’s enough right there to say SCOTUS is decidedly OUT, especially because in summer 2025 they are expected to issue a ruling in U.S. v. Skrmetti, which will determine whether Tennessee’s ban on gender-affirming care for youth is unconstitutional, a decision which will have wide ranging effects on the availability of gender-affirming care generally. Although we don’t know how they will rule, the day of opening arguments had many concluding the decision won’t be one that protects bodily autonomy and the rights of trans kids. Supreme Court, we are begging you to pick up your robes sashay away. — Sally Tamarkin
“Holding space” as a phrase was already past its expiration date by the time Tracy E. Gilchrist uttered it in her megaviral junket interview with Wicked co-stars Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo — one of those meaningless sequences of words that we all nod along to in queer circles, pretending like it actually has semantic value. Long live queer media, but “holding space” is well and truly dead now. Let’s replace “it” with gerunds that actually communicate specific things like “thinking about,” “respecting,” or “considering.” Because when you think about it, you can’t actually hold space, can you? — Samantha Allen
Listen… as a full-time social media editor — specifically one who works at Them — I read the comments. And as much as I love seeing the twink puns and nude nuns discourse, sometimes, some things are in fact better left unread. So from one chronically online queer to another, I give you some professional (unsolicited) advice: log off. Don’t read the comments. In 2025, there’s no time for fighting with strangers online. — Ana Osorno
This one has never been “in,” according to my own personal standards, but it seems as though the profound embarrassment of this past year in American politics has finally led others to see the light. Even as it was happening, I felt as though history would not look back kindly on [deep sigh] “Kamala is brat.” But in all seriousness, this applies to all levels of government, including your local elected officials, who are the ones who are the most likely to be able to enact direct change in your life, anyway. I don’t think it’s a good idea to put anyone on a pedestal, but especially not lawmakers, who are (allegedly) meant to bend to the will of the people, not the other way around. — James Factora
The other day, I saw a reel that made the case that Elon Musk’s original design inspiration for the Tesla cybertruck was, in fact, the silhouette of his own chest. Who knows if this is literally true but, honestly, if the idea of riding around in a rolling statue to the man who popularized the notion that “cis” is a slur doesn’t send shivers down your back, you are not welcome at our table, cissie. — Wren Sanders
Not that I’m really using dating apps these days, but for years, I’ve been keeping a running list of words that will instantly make me swipe left on someone’s dating app profile. The list in its entirety will never see the light of day, but I’ll tell you that self-describing as “heteroflexible” is absolutely on there. Like, encountering DL straight men on Grindr is actually less repulsive to me than some heteroflexible on Feeld hitting me up. This is kind of emblematic of my disdain for strict prescriptivism when it comes to identity labels in general. That doesn’t mean that labels aren’t important, but more that we have to accept that the actual intricacies of desire are more mutable than can ever be contained within the bounds of language. TL;DR Let straight dudes make out with the homies! We don’t need to make it a thing. — James Factora
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