#and the people who liked my shit post about me writing one too

[steviewashere]

Loving Who You Are, Not What You Offer

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Referenced Rape/Non-Con (Not Between Main Pairing), Panic Attack (Sort of) Tags: Post Season 4, Post Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Steve Harrington, Coming Out, Protective Eddie Munson, Patient Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has Sexual Trauma, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Slight Comphet Steve Harrington, Dialogue Heavy

Okay, honestly, this one comes from a more personal place. So I'm gonna have to ask y'all to be kind about this one. I've recently come to terms that I'm somewhere on the asexual spectrum and I just needed to apply that somewhere, so. Also, writing from Eddie's point of view rather than Steve's helps me, so I don't wanna hear shit about it.

Read the content warning one more time before you continue and let me know if I missed anything <3

🩵—————🩵 There was an uncovered layer to Steve Harrington, that much Eddie has deduced.

It’s a subtle, blink and you wouldn’t notice, kind of thing. But even this uncovered layer had layers. And he’s not sure if anybody else has caught on. He was able to catalog several odd things about Steve that just…didn’t match his character. Not at all. Which has led, though it started casually and accidentally, to Eddie making a whole new doctrine.

The Odd Steve Behavior Doctrine. With a few noticeable bullet points:

-Don’t touch him without asking -Don’t ask him about his sex life -Don’t talk about sex around him, at all -He especially doesn’t like casual intimacy -Earning Steve’s trust is like climbing up a rocky mountain

He follows these rules he’s made for himself. Tries to keep himself casual and known in Steve’s presence. And hopes that it’s enough to get Steve to crack, even the slightest. Maybe he’ll say why these things bother him, Eddie initially thought.

Maybe I’ll just keep my mouth shut and let Steve come to me in his own time, he eventually noted. Because he doesn’t need to be in everybody’s business all the time, which is a typical thing for Eddie. He likes being nosy and involved with the lives of people around him. He likes to think of himself as the person his friends can come to, no matter the reason or the intensity of their need. And maybe part of it is selfish, too. He can admit that to himself. That he, in turn, wants to be everything Steve needs at the end of the day. Bearing the brunt of all that Steve has going wrong or right in his life.

Things come to Eddie little by little from Steve’s mouth. None that answer to any of the bullets in his doctrine, but things that are important, too. Like confessions, moments that Steve saw as flaws.

“I called Jonathan Byers a queer in 1983. That’s why he beat me up. I deserved it,” he told Eddie one day. Casually, complete nonchalance, as easy as discussing the weather. Steve had been cradling a mug of coffee at their local diner. Picked at the pancake platter he ordered all for himself. And, at Eddie’s coming out (“I’m gay, Steve,” Eddie admitted quietly mere moments before. He brought up love lives. Was poking around what was going on with Steve’s. And casually, he realizes, it just came up.), Steve took a sharp inhale. Confessed this bomb of a statement. Grimaced at the memory that must’ve played out behind his eyes. Then, murmured, “But thank you for trusting me with that, Eddie. I just need you to know that I was somebody you wouldn’t before. In case that…In case maybe you wanna take back that trust. Wouldn’t blame you, that’s all I’m saying.”

Eddie sat in that for a good several moments. As they slurped at their room temperature, rather mediocre mugs of Joe. “I still trust you,” he eventually said, “You don’t have to keep proving yourself to me, you know?” Steve merely shrugged. And that was confessional number one.

Following that, Steve mentioned being tortured by Russians. Which, Eddie thought that was reason for him not liking touch. It may be part of the reason, but there was something to Steve’s eyes that told him that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Eddie didn’t ask. Steve didn’t elaborate. Tortured by Russians, beat up by his peers, chewed up like a dog toy, the list in Eddie’s mind of All the Bad Things That Happened to Steve was growing longer and longer by the day. But Steve was telling him things, letting him in. It was a start.

So, Eddie had two catalogs all about Steve to keep up with in his mind. All the Bad Things and The Do’s and Don’ts of Steve Harrington.

Being his friend was an earned thing and it was a pleasant thing, but it also broke Eddie’s heart bit by bit. He’d never admit to this, but he had to realize that at some point. He wondered if Robin ever felt the same. Maybe even Nancy. But he wasn’t going to ask. Because who asks something like that? Eddie won’t be the first, but it won’t be the last somebody thinks that, he’s sure.

Even though Steve was breaking through his own mold, cracking his mask, shattering mirrors of who he was, none of it actually answered any of Eddie’s don’ts regarding him. None of it eased him. None of it lended itself in any sort of way. If anything, all of these other greater things only added to the incessant itch that couldn’t be scratched under Eddie’s skin.

Who are you really, Steve, Eddie asked himself all too much.

He doesn’t want to upset the poor guy.

But he’ll never know, he’s coming to realize. It’s just not in the cards.

———

It comes to a head, because of course it does. And he didn’t mean for it to, but it just happens.

They’re hanging out at Steve’s new-ish apartment. Lounging around on his, frankly, ugly floral second-hand couch. It’s musty and not all that soft on the cushions, lumpy and shifting. But they make do with it as they have a movie marathon. Steve is sprawled between the far right and middle cushion, Eddie is leaning against the left arm rest, legs crossed one over the other, head in his hand. Then, his stomach grumbles all too loudly in a room full of droning noise.

He leans into Steve’s space slightly. Reaches out a hand and places it on his thigh. Squeezes Steve’s leg and opens his mouth to ask if he’s hungry. But, for some reason, Steve tenses to the extremes underneath his touch. His hands grip harshly to the back of the couch and the throw pillow near his head. Legs going taut and straining against Eddie’s touch.

“Steve?” Eddie calls softly.

“Stop,” musters from Steve. It’s tiny. Cracking in half. Brings tears to his eyes immediately.

Eddie furrows his eyebrows, though. “What?” He asks. “What am I doing?” There’s a thrum in his chest. Something unsettling and obtuse. It pulsates and shifts and bitters his throat the way acidic bile does.

With force Eddie’s only seen in the Upside Down, Steve latches onto Eddie’s wrist. Tight enough that Eddie has to bite back a yelp of pure and unadulterated pain. Nearly enough to break the bone that Steve’s thumb digs into. He shoves Eddie away with just his grip. Scrambles to the far corner of the couch, legs tucked in close to his chest, knees colliding with his chin. He wraps his arms around himself.

And then, the softest noise breaks through between them. It’s quiet, yet somehow louder than the tape playing. It works its way under Eddie’s skin. Into his stomach, through his throat, and into his brain. Steve’s gentle, manufactured cries. Stifled behind his lips. In real time, Eddie watches him shatter. The way his eyes gloss over, his cheeks going splotchy with the sounds, his shoulders shake.

“Woah, hey,” Eddie whispers, reaching out again. He wants to ground him. Wants to comfort the way he knows how. How he soothes Wayne’s panic episodes. And how he calms Dustin down from lashing out. Or when Robin talks herself in circles. Wants to just…be there. “Hey, Steve, are you—“

“Don’t touch me,” Steve bites out, “I don’t have anything—You—I don’t want to.”

Immediately, Eddie drops his hand to the now unoccupied middle cushion. The fabric meeting his palm. Going cold. Warm where Steve had just been relaxed. And Eddie—he may be a dastardly fool most days, dumb as rock the others, three time senior—knows exactly what he did, now that he’s focused on every small movement he makes. He’s perceptive to the way Steve is leaning as far away as possible. How crumpled he makes his body. Eddie notices how much space has been created and where his hands lie.

I’m so stupid, he thinks, that’s like rule one. 

Don’t touch him without asking.

“Fuck,” Eddie softly curses. He pulls himself away. To his own corner of the sofa. And swallows the bit of panic that rises in him. His eyes drift away from Steve’s fearful face, to his own hands. Twitches them in his lap, against his knees. Wants to cut them off. Throw them into a blender. Feed them to the birds. Something. But he forces himself to look back up.

Steve trembles against the couch. In a way that is not the Steve Harrington that Eddie met when fighting other worldly creatures. That dismantles everything and anything he once knew.

“Shit. I—Steve, I’m so sorry,” he quickly apologizes. “I’m sorry. I know that you don’t like that unless people ask. And I just—I wasn’t thinking, I promise. It was just—You know, I’m touchy with all my friends and I was just going to see if you wanted me to make some dinner or order some food. I was just trying to get your attention, y’know, and I didn’t mean anything by it. I promise, I swear. I swear on my mom, Steve. I would never—“ He takes a deep, gasping breath. Coughing on the inhale. His hands shake, now. And he doesn’t think he’s ever seen fear paint itself so clear and bright on a person’s face, but he’s looking into it. Steve’s pallor and yet still red cheeks. And his all consuming, though far away eyes. His built body, yet childlike hold.

A part of Eddie wants to cry, too. I’ve fucked up, he panics internally, I’ve fucked everything up and now he’s not going to be my friend and he was such a good friend, too. Why did I have to do that? I just wanted to make sure he was fed, too. That’s it. He’s such a good friend and now I’ve fucked it and I just—I—

“You wanted to make me food?” Steve quietly croaks.

Eddie, in an instant, nods. “Yes!” He exclaims in his own panic. “Yes, I swear, Steve. I wasn’t thinking when I touched your thigh. And I—What do you want to eat, Stevie? Say the word, I’ll find a way to make it or…something.”

His hands twitch in his lap once more. Thumbs catching on the ripped holes of his jeans. The threads soft and wearing away under his skin. The scratchy, dry bit of skin that peers through. He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t think he breathes. Just makes eye contact with Steve. Which, surely, is overbearing and unnecessary and…I’m probably freaking him out more, calm down. He takes a deep breath, blows it away from him, and lowers his shoulders from where he didn’t know they were hiking.

“It was nothing more than to check-in. I promise,” he reiterates, murmuring.

Steve, finally, draws away from himself. With his own breath. He unravels his legs, stretching them out to their full length onto the middle cushion. Arms going limp at his sides. Hands resting against his thighs. His eyes dart—left and right and left and right—between Eddie’s. Nods once. “Okay,” he meekly musters. “Okay, Eds. Can…We can order pizza. There should be a menu on the kitchen counter. I’ll—“

Eddie stands from his own cushion before Steve gets the chance to. “Nope, don’t worry about it. Just try and relax, yeah? I’ll go put in an order, pay for it. You…Pepperoni pizza?” Steve just nods, tentative and surprised. “Cool,” Eddie states, “I’ll be right back.”

The phone call goes by quick and he easily sets the money out for when the driver gets there. But he’s not entirely sure his presence is going to be a warm welcome in the living room again. He gets a glass of water anyway because, surely, Steve will tell him to go if he isn’t wanted.

Steve’s in the same position as when Eddie left. Though, his gaze isn’t entirely there. Somewhere beyond Eddie’s shoulder. But there’s a gleam, a little shine that tells him that Steve isn’t gone from himself, not yet at least. He sits back down in his own cushion. Glass on the coffee table. And turns, keeping himself tight to his own body.

“Hey, Steve?” He calls out, watching as Steve blinks sluggishly back into his body. “I—uh—I got you some water, if you want it. Drinking water usually helps me feel better after…After a down moment, y’know?”

Next to him, Steve hums. He sighs. “Can I trust you with something?” He asks, forgoing the water entirely.

Eddie nods in haste. “Of course, Steve. If you have something you have to tell me, I can keep things to myself,” he states. Which is one hundred percent true. He may be a loud guy, screaming and yelling when need be. May be somebody that fills a room with noise, if only so he doesn’t succumb to the silence. But he knows how to keep a secret. It’s sort of a survival tactic, is what he’d say if somebody asked him about it. He’s kept secrets about his parents, things behind lock and key in his ribcage. Granted, he may forget, but he won’t say a damn thing. And he surely won’t spill Steve’s beans, especially with the way he looks to him in open earnest.

“Okay,” Steve responds. His legs fall away from the couch and he rights himself into being completely upright. Ramrod straight. On the far right cushion. Mirroring Eddie’s tight pose. Feet flat to the floor. His eyes trace something on the coffee table, cracks probably, but Eddie can’t exactly tell. “Okay. I…You’re going to be the second person I’ve ever told this to, alright? And I—I figured that it would come out sooner or later, but you’re gonna need an explanation for whatever the fuck just happened. And I don’t know how else to talk about it without just going all-in. So…I just need you to listen. Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs, “you have the floor, Stevie. My mouth is shut.”

Steve nods slow, a ghost of a smile on his face. Breathes in through his nose, it traps in his chest and comes out as one gentle gust. He swallows heavily, words seemingly rising in his throat. And that smile falls away just as it sprung.

“In middle school, before I was popular and whatever, I had a group of friends that I ran with. We were all nerds, I won’t deny that. And—And I would involve myself with some of their interests, if only because I wanted to fit in,” Steve explains first. His eyes roam again. Not picking a spot, but Eddie won’t fault him for it. He continues, voice fracturing, “One of the guys I was closer to, we’ll call him R, he was interested in this club. It was kind of like a tech club? Focused on radios and channels and math and…Things that I was actually kind of good with, but needed a better understanding on. So, I figured, I’d sign up for this club. Go with my…friend.”

Before he goes on to say more, he leans over for the glass of water on the table. Holds it gently between his hands. Doesn’t take any sips. The condensation droplets roll down his fingers. Cold most likely keeping him grounded to the room.

Eddie can already tell he’s not going to like wherever this part of Steve’s past leads him. How Steve has to take breaks, it upsets Eddie greatly. He’s not sure he’s entirely prepared for whatever confession comes from Steve this time, but he’ll digest it. Get through this with the guy and figure out all he needs to.

Another steadying breath. And Steve’s voice is like gravel, but he keeps talking.

“It was a weekly thing. And we’d go in. Be taught about gadgets and whats-its and whatnot. R was there, though. He was always there. We’d talk, laugh, shoot the shit. Normal friend bullshit.

“One day, though. One day, something was…different. He looked at me. There was a sense of hunger. Want. A drive to him that I’d never seen before. He’d lean more into my space, drop his voice lower, whisper right into my ear.” Steve blinks in rapid succession. His breath keeps stuttering. And something in Eddie’s stomach sours. He goes, though. Pushing through. “I told him to stop. To knock it off. Kept telling him that I was trying to learn. That I wanted to focus. And he just…He wouldn’t,” he explains.

Eddie spikes with great unease and anger. Never at Steve. But whoever this so called ‘friend’ is, Eddie wants to maybe kill him. He keeps quiet, though. Steve wanted to share and he needs this out. And Eddie can listen. He can, even if it makes him want to cry, too.

“I thought that’s all it would be,” Steve speaks quietly, “Just him talking to me in this new tone. With this new level to his voice. But…I’m kind of stupid, I guess, so of course that’s not all he’d do. The next week at our club meeting, he got closer than before. He began to…” Steve stops and swallows. A single, silent tear crawls down his face. It doesn’t even phase him, the way crying usually does. It’s just background at this point. “…He began to—to touch me in ways I’d never been. And I—I told him to stop, I remember doing that. I remember putting distance between us. And saying no and saying stop and shoving his hands off me. But he just—“ A broken little sob. “—He was supposed to be my friend,” he states, small as a child.

The sobs rack Steve in such a way that his whole body is jolting with it. Nearly toppling off the couch. He chugs the water between cries, but doesn’t move from his spot. Tight and closed off within his own body.

“I wanted him to just be my friend,” Steve continues a moment later, nasally and choked. “But he didn’t want that. He kept overpowering every single decision I made. His breath on my earlobe. And his hands on my thigh, on my…He fucking touched my crotch. Tried to coerce me into having sex,” he spits. “That guy…He made me feel fucking disgusting. About my own body. About things I loved. About sex,” Steve growls, “Made me sort of dislike all those things, too.”

Eddie, for how loud he can be, is completely silent for once. Unable to form words. Not sure how to comfort. And if he could comfort, isn’t sure if that’s something he can do the way he wants to. He can’t touch. Can’t do what he’d normally do. And his body aches to take care of Steve or to simply hold him. To be…well, to be a friend. But that’s not something Steve can exactly trust.

He feels sick to his stomach.

The last bit of water is sipped at slowly, as Steve comes down. Then, he turns to face Eddie. Making direct and purposeful eye contact. “It’s not your fault, that I reacted like I did,” he states lowly. “And it’s not your fault that I close up when you want to talk about sex. Or you wanna talk about all that intimate shit. It’s something with me. Like something’s broken. It’s like a deep crack in me, Eddie.

“And I just wanted to clear up all that. Explain what I can, I guess.” He snakes out a tentative hand. It’s shaking and hesitant, but it still lands softly on the back of Eddie’s right. Squeezes. “But thank you for taking notice. And being concerned. And for apologizing. I feel safe with you, Eddie. I trust you a lot. Which is like—That’s probably highest honors you could earn with me.” And he chuckles slightly. It’s not a humorous thing, but it’s not exactly humorless either.

Eddie lets himself soak in this, though. Smiling warmly back at Steve. Because he needs it. They both need it. He murmurs, “Thank you for trusting me with that, Steve. That wasn’t easy and I’m proud of you for speaking up about it. I’m glad to be somebody you can trust.”

With another exhale, Steve relaxes back into the couch. His hand doesn’t move from Eddie’s. “I also want to say that you’re allowed to talk about your relationships with dudes,” he states quietly. “Seriously, I don’t mind. But just…Just check in with me? Before you do?”

“Of course,” he agrees instantly. “I’ll keep that in my noggin, promise, Stevie.”

Ghost of a smile on Steve’s face again. “Thanks,” he whispers.

A lull floats in the conversation. Steve removes his hand, watching as his fingers twitch, and there’s a little uptick to the corners of his mouth. Something pleased and almost…reverent at the way he looks at his hand.

Before Eddie can get up to change out the movie, he heaves a little sigh. And says, “Y’know, if you ever need any sort of physical comfort, need to talk about this, or you just need somebody to tell you that you’re okay, you can lean on me. Don’t even need to ask, really. I’m all arms.”

“I’ll think about it, Eds. This has been enough for me."

——— Steve comes out to him at the same diner Eddie did only a few years later.

It’s 1990, Eddie’s twenty-four and Steve’s freshly twenty-three. He has a certain spark to him. A sparkle to his smile and a pep in his step. And Eddie’s happy to see him happy.

Happy to eventually call their relationship romantic. Happy to share spots on the couch, curled around each other. Happy to kiss him slow and sweet or not at all, just able to gaze over coffee mugs and across the room and when Steve thinks he can’t be seen.

Eddie’s just happy to be allowed this love that fills his chest and in the colder, vacant spots of their lives.

But he realizes he still hasn’t heard everything about Steve. He gives it time, though. Because the second most important thing to Steve—first just being there for him—is patience.

The next of their chats happens when things get heated on the couch.

Soft kisses turn hungry, carnivorous. Hands wander over heated skin. Steve’s fingers against the hem of Eddie’s t-shirt. But his hands shake. And Eddie places his own hands off to the sides of the couch, pulling himself away before things can get any farther than they already are.

“Hey,” he softly speaks, “Steve, we don’t—I’m okay with just kissing right now. We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

Steve stops next to him. Tensing up only slightly. “Are you—You’re sure about that?” His voice is so tiny, so unlike him. And though Eddie’s heard this tone before, it still breaks him.

He says easily, “I don’t want you to be scared of our first time, baby. It’s okay if we need to take things slow.”

He watches as Steve heavily swallows. “And if I asked if we never had sex?”

Eddie eyes him for a moment. Not wearily. With something like subtle pride. “Is that what you want?” He asks in turn. “Would that make you more comfortable?”

Subtly, Steve nods. “I—“ He sighs sadly. “I’ve been thinking about how to talk to you about it. With girls, I never even liked it. I just did it because it…There was something to say about a guy who could have sex with anybody he wants. But I also…I don’t know.” He shrugs as if trying to dismiss it, but Eddie doesn’t like that.

He sets a hesitant, soft hand on Steve’s shoulder. Squeezes when he doesn’t move away. “If you never want to have sex again, I’d be okay with that. I’d be more than okay with that,” he states assuringly. “You being happy and comfortable is what matters most to me. Not sex. I don’t give a shit about sex, not when I get to see you every day, smile on your face, and your eyes shiny and beautiful.”

Steve gives another small sigh, but the smile he has doesn’t waver. “Okay. I—Eddie, I don’t think I want to have sex,” he admits quietly. It shakes from his throat, but it’s still confident the way it lands between them. “It just doesn’t feel good to me. And I—I don’t want to force myself to do it. And it wouldn’t be fair to you, either.”

Another affirmative squeeze to Steve’s shoulder. “Alright, baby. Then we don’t have sex,” he agrees softly. “And if you ever change your mind—not that I’m forcing you to—then I’m okay with what you want.” He scoots himself closer so that their bodies are one single line, warm against each other. Reiterating, “Your happiness and comfort matter the most to me.”

With both of his hands, Steve wraps Eddie’s free one. Traces the veins on the back of his hand. Toys with his fingers. “We can still kiss, though,” he states quietly. “Maybe I want a kiss.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Mhm,” Steve hums. So, he closes the gap. A wet peck to Eddie’s lips. Soft and venturing. One that last only a few seconds. He draws back with the softest smile adorned on his features. Murmurs, “Thank you for hearing me out on this. And for understanding. And for accepting this.”

“I love you, Steve. Just for you. Not the sex or touch. We could never do anything except sit next to each other and talk, and I’d still love you,” Eddie swears.

Steve sniffs something wet. Shoves himself a little closer, cuddling into Eddie’s chest. To which Eddie wraps his arms around his back in response. And he sighs, but it’s a sound of long awaited relief. “I love you, too, Eddie. God, I love you.”

The conversations are tough and they are stomach turning, but after it all, Eddie gets to have Steve. How he is. How he wants to be. And that’s all Eddie could hope for.

He kisses the top of Steve’s head and relaxes back into the couch. “I’m proud of you, Steve,” he murmurs, “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Thank you for being patient. Being here.”

Eddie squeezes them together even tighter. Warm in his chest at the content noise that draws itself from Steve. This could be all that they do forever and Eddie would never ask for more.

🩵—————🩵

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #angst and hurt/comfort #cw referenced rape/non-con #read the content warnings #asexual steve harrington

[sailor-aviator]

Hey.

Go ahead and get settled because this will be...long, in true Liz fashion.

So, by now I'm sure most of you have heard what's happened. If not, you can search this blog for some answers or others for more.

I joined this fandom offiicially at the end of September after being a long time lurker. I had just lost my job and times were uncertain for me. I felt inspired to write, and as someone whose formative years were shaped by the fandom experience, I wanted to feel that sense of belonging again - to feel like a part of a community. I've talked about it on here before, but I started my fandom days in the original Hunger Games fandom when the first movie had just come out, and then I shifted gears towards the SuperWhoLock fandom. If you know anything about SuperWhoLock, then you know you had to have pretty tough fucking skin to be a part of any of it.

Of course, this was back in the day when fandom was an actual community and not authors having to beg for scraps of engagement and people thinking its a numbers game. I was a fairly large blog within the SuperWhoLock community (Waywardly-Carrying-On was the username), but I left fandom for a few years because life got hectic and I felt like I had outgrown the fandom itself as I was no longer watching any of the shows. As the years went on, I started to yearn for the fandom experience again, which is how I found myself dipping toes into several different ones.

I was so excited to publish my first fanfic. I had convinced myself that I wasn't a good writer (much to the chagrin of my irl friends), and I had put a pause on writing my original story. I wanted to write this idea about a cowboy and a girl using characters that I had grown to love like I did way back in my older days. So, I started posting, and I was so excited for the story, that I kept posting almost daily. MamaMay was one of the first people to embrace not only my story, but me as a person into the fandom. She made me feel welcomed and wanted.

Pretty much right off the bat I was already getting anons telling me that I was being too much and that I needed to calm down with all the posting. I was confused because...this is Tumblr. It's literally a blogging website? Why wouldn't I post? I decided to ignore the mean words (not before giving my opinion, of course) and kept on doing my thing. Well, the anons got continually worse and worse. I had a suspiscion as to who the anons could be, but I never had concrete proof. So, I experimented with blocking suspects until finally it worked. I'm not naming names because that's not my style, so don't even bother asking.

The fact of the matter is, some of you have entered fandom spaces for the first time, and you don't know how to act. You don't care to learn fandom etiquette as you've made abundantly clear by calling fandom olds every name under the sun while utilizing the anonymous feature. Newsflash, you're part of the problem. You're the reason why authors don't want to publish anymore. You are the reason that something that's supposed to be fun is starting to feel like a goddamn chore.

How many times can authors on here say that we aren't machines? We have lives outside of this website: family, friends, jobs, school, etc. Some of you really are just hellbent on making everyone around you miserable, and it's sad. You can't just leave well enough alone and let people enjoy something, no you feel like everyone has to enjoy it the same way as you.

Some of you go after authors on here because of some weird sense of jealousy too. I don't know why my shit blew up, babe, I really don't. But I started out with no followers and no support just like everyone else. I'll tell you what helped me though: following fandom etiquette and reaching out to other creators to build an actual community. None of this "I've reblogged three of your things and now I'm messaging you so that you return the favor." No, I reached out to make actual friendships which is what fandom is SUPPOSED to be. If someone was clearly not interested, it was fine!! I backed off and kept doing my own thing.

Some of you think being mean on the internet makes you big and bad. Guess what! It doesn't! It's loser mentality and I feel genuinely sorry for you. I'm sorry that people in your own life made you feel so small as to feel like you had to lash out at strangers on the internet who are just trying to have fun.

Anyway, this is my really long way of saying that I am taking a break for a little bit. I have no idea how long it will be - could be the weekend, could be a couple of weeks, could be forever. I need time to decide if this is something I want to keep persuing. If I come back, I don't know if I will remain a TGM blog or if I'll shift gears and hop into another fandom with a rebrand. Guess we'll just have to see.

To the people on here who have been a constant source of joy, laughter, and support: thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Your presence has meant everything to me, and I hope that my break sees me wanting to come back and giggle about the silly plane movie with you all again.

Nothing but love,

Liz 💛

#psa #public service announcement #this has been a psa #liz speaks #liz rambles #long post

[rashoumon-homo]

Rant ahead, prolly gonna delete later

TW: gender dysphoria, fetishization of trans men in fanfiction

Idk if it’s just me but I’m a trans guy who typically won’t touch “trans male [character]” smut fics with a ten foot pole. I’ve found a handful that are respectfully written, but for the most part they make me feel so fucking uncomfortable. It’s like the (non-trans) writers don’t see trans men as real men. There’s frequent untagged feminization, excessively feminine terms, and an alarming number of pregnancy fics. I get that some people like these things, and I respect that, but that’s pretty much ALL that’s out there. It’s like they want to write for a m/m ship but only want to write m/f smut, so they slap “trans” on there. It’s so blatantly obvious that the majority of these writers have never done a drop of research on what it means to be trans masc, much less MET a trans masc person irl.

Not only that, complaining about it makes YOU the bad guy. I made a post on the AO3 subreddit back when I first joined it (aka before I knew better) just kind of venting about the way trans characters are written in fics. I was a lot more gentle and understanding about it than I’m being here btw. And instantly the post got flooded with comments saying that “just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean other people don’t.” Or “my roommate’s boyfriend’s brother is trans and he doesn’t care about that stuff.” Or that people are free to write whatever they want and if I don’t like it I shouldn’t be reading it. (My favorite one was “I’m cis but I don’t see an issue”) I ended up deleting the post.

Back in February there was this fic I read that did all that same shit and it pissed me off. Untagged feminization, afab language, the whole shebang. And I KNOW that author wouldn’t have treated the character that way if they were writing a cis man. For legal reasons, this comment was not written by me, but it was deleted by the author right away with no response.

I blocked them and moved on.

I guess what brought all these emotions back was a post I saw where someone was complaining about other cultures being written in an accidentally offensive way in fics. The same people who tore down my post (and others like it) were suddenly all into the idea of respecting the cultures you write, doing research on them, etc. How is trans culture any different? Why is it “um actually some trans guys like being feminized” but then “these cultural stereotypes are offensive and the author should do better?”

Not too long ago, I decided to start writing trans characters in fics. It was really tough for me, since I had to battle a lot of my own dysphoria, but I felt like it was worth it if it meant there was just one more fic out there to make trans people feel seen and respected. Being seen as a real man and being trans should not be mutually exclusive. It’s possible to be both. And it’s painfully obvious when the writer doesn’t see it like that.

If you’re trans and you feel the same way about all this, lmk. Sometimes I feel like I really am the unreasonable one and that I’m all alone here and it really fucks with my head.

And if you’re cis and wanting to write trans characters, I implore you to learn about us first. Trans people are not a shortcut to writing m/f smut. They have their own unique experience of the world that needs to be taken into account if you’re going to write them respectfully. Listen to trans voices. Please.

#rant #trans character #trans #transmasc #fanfic rant #gender dysphoria #tw dysphoria #transgender #trans man #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd fics #ao3 subreddit

[ct-multifandom]

I don’t usually make posts like this, but I’ve been seeing a lot of anti-intellectual junk lately, and I really think we need to put the word “pretentious” up on a shelf until people learn what it actually means.

It doesn’t describe someone who likes artsy-fartsy deep meaning media. People who are pretentious are fake. They’re posers trying to be sophisticated and unique, not like other girls. They pretend to only like stuff they think will make them sound cool when they talk about it. They want to act like they know something you don’t, and they want attention for it.

By definition, if you genuinely enjoy something, you can’t be pretentious. If it resonates with you, and you analyze it, and you don’t care what people think, that’s the polar opposite, actually. If you love obscure experimental prog music, if you watch underground high concept indie films through English teacher eyes, if you spend hours in a modern art museum reading each piece as a vessel for storytelling, if your backpack’s full of poetry books that inspire you, if you play underrated games that were someone’s passion project, if you have an interest in studying the classics or the masters, you are not pretentious.

Of course, some people just don’t like some stuff, and that’s fine, but that’s not what this is about. Don’t let anti-intellectuals shame you for enjoying things just because your interests are inaccessible to them, because they refuse to be brave and put effort into critical thinking. You’re not stuck up for refusing to overlook the craft of artists.

#anti intellectualism #media #movies #books #music #critical thinking #my friend who primarily listens to one very popular band once said that people who listen to obscure music are annoying and pretentious #which rubbed me the wrong way because 1 she knows that I listen to obscure music and 2 it’s such a cowardly consumerist take. anyone can #make music and hey a lot of the people who do make GOOD music. and this goes for all *obscure* media #this post was mostly inspired by people talking about Barbie and those anti pick me girls like the pick nobody girls who insist thinking is #for boys and having fun with an empty brain is for girls. Greta gerwig is an artist. I haven’t seen the movie yet but I know it has a deeper #message than haha cute pink! I’ve seen the summaries about the true meaning. the pinkness and popularity doesn’t negate the narritive. #though in the notes I saw a lot of tumblristas comunistas shitting on the film for being one big ad that people *fell for* which tbh is #tbh almost as anti-intellectual. don’t get me wrong they milked this film to sell hella shit but I don’t believe kids who play with dolls #are the target audience as these people claim. Barbie is a culturally iconic symbol almost archetypical of societal expectations for women #you say barbie people think unblinking perfect plastic pink girly. reminds me of the poem The Last Mojave Indian Barbie. yeah yeah you all #hate brands but this one carries undeniable significance and makes for a powerful literary device. it’s been used many times before #sorry for writing a tag essay about a film I haven’t even seen but I’m tired of internet people focusing so much on proving others wrong #that they end up oversimplifying everything just as much as the other person. god I saw people doing this to Nimona saying transphobes were #looking too deep into her character and they’re reactionary clowns for making that jump. like for once the transphobes are right. she is #trans. it’s a queer story. and irl the first people who notice queerness are the bigots who can tell you’re different. sick owns telling #them the story’s not that deep is harmful and it’s like they’re ignoring the real message on purpose. okay enough rambling hehe! thanks #barbie #nimona

[xhanisai]

One thing I will always love about the Miraculous show is how they portrayed Adrien's interactions with Marinette and Ladybug's interactions with Chat Noir throughout all the seasons. That despite Adrien's and Ladybug's feelings for Marichat starting off platonically, they were still so tender and so sweet with them.

They didn't shy away from verbal and physical affection and the way they would marvel at marichat is so <33333

I just really love how while the show had Chat Noir fall for Ladybug and Marinette fall for Adrien immediately after they witnessed their strengths and kindness and determination, ladrien's journey for marichat was friends to lovers <33333333

They fell for each other fast and slow!!!!

They are slow-burn done right.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #adrinette #ladynoir #marichat #ladrien #ml sugar #the majority of people who complain about the show's slow and steady pace when it comes to the lovesquare indicate one thing #slow burn isn't for you #even for me slow burn is a hit or miss but ml does it so well it's uGHhhh #<333333333333333 #we are not here to talk about the flaws and imperfections here we are fangirling about lovesquare!!!!!! #keep your salt and gripes off my posts too #the second i see someone be like 'em um BUUUUT I am enTITLED TO MY SHITTY DUMBASS OPINIONS LEMME SHIT ON THE WRITING AND PAIRING ON YOUR #POST uGhgh EMMM EMMM' #I WILL BLOCK YOU.

[mishapen-dear]

genuine question but is there any fandom where a character is well written by the majority. im thinking about fandom culture and the spread of frustration when people dont write characters well but. honestly in all the fandoms ive been in there's only like, a Select number of authors who i trust to write Well, let alone write Well AND In Character. character analysis and writing and getting inside characters' heads are all separate skills (all of which are trained by roleplaying fyi can CONFIRM playing pretend with your friends is good for you). there's been more than once where I've disagreed with an interpretation that others agreed with, and then I turned out wrong. or i turned out right. like it doesnt matter WHO is right it just matters that differences in character analysis exist, so even if you DO write well AND write in character, your in character is still going to be someone else's out of character

there's this sort of. vibe. that to play in the sandbox you Need to be able to make a castle, and if you can't make a castle then you shouldn't bother, and it completely dismisses the idea that youre in that sandbox to PLAY in the first place. there's this Weight of disappointing someone if you can't build something that they like, but that forgets that you aren't there to build them a castle. like, be KIND. if you disagree with someone then please make an effort to do so kindly. i dont give a shit about fandom discourse but there is a reason kids get removed from sandboxes if they keep throwing sand in people's eyes. but if they don't like your misshapen sand pile, then youre not obligated to change it. even if you yourself end up hating that same sand pile later- youre not building a legacy. youre playing. and sometimes the result of that play is out of character drivel. theres a reason there are so many authors and so few who i like to consistently read and thats because everyone is Fucking Around in their hobby space. hash tag brag or whatever but i can build castles. ive built several that im v proud of. ive also dug holes in the sand for fun and then tripped on them when trying to get up. I often dug a hole and then got up and fucking- whoops, its a castle now, and i didn't realize i'd made something to be proud of until after the fact. the whole time while creating shit i was Convinced it was bullshit that didn't make sense. and then other times i was Convinced it was bullshit and then i was Right and i can look back and go. huh. ew. but it doesn't matter what the end result was, because i had fun playing in the sandbox

this wasn't meant to turn into a ramble but i have Feelings about bad art and art that's badly perceived and how public perception can screw with your head and how making art youre proud of is fucking. it's so difficult!!! it's hard!! it's really fun, which is why i try to make it, but i promise you it is Okay to not tryhard creativity. even if you CAN, it's okay not to do it all the time. or ever, even. fuck around find out have fun etc

#NOT a discourse post i am musing out loud #there's discourse goign around the dash rn or i wouldnt mention it #but the past few weeks ive seen a lot of “DONT fucking mischaracterize my guy my fuckign god” #which is one of the most frustrating pet peeve there is #but i think a lot too about little baby me #fresh on her writing journey #and how discouraged i would be if someone pointed out the mistakes id made #i made a Lot of fuckups #and i also think about this one fic where one of the characters was INCREDIBLY out of character #me today would not be able to stomach reading it #but baby me was so ENCHANTED #and it introduced to me the concept that you dont always know the reason someone does something #and it made me read even more #and because of that i eventually found Expert Skill level fics #which introduced me to MANY little tricks and fidgets ive tried to implement #there were so so many reviews on that fic that called it shit or complained about the bad characterization #but a decade later i still think about it #there were several very corny mine/craft horror fics i read #which back in the day would be called cringe #and those were what inspired me to write my first horror fic and now im Enchanted by the whole genre #theres a lot of stuff i dont like to read but i like that other people are enjoying themselves #i dont know how to be succinct i hope my point is coming across well #this ties into my thing where fiction is for you first others later #here are my credentials: bb/h fan since before the elections (hi i was the guy who noticed his lack of armour post elections) #and a cross-fandom comment trend of people going 'woa i can see this happening in canon' #im not talking out my ass i genuinely think its more important to have fun than to write accurate characterization #which. is a more 'duh' and clarifying thing than everything else ive written #but ah well c'est la vie #also also just realized this could be interpreted like that- NOT an attack on people who complain about mischaracterization either lmao #i do that too w friends. this is to reassure people who put pressure on themselves to create things Well all the time

[dani-the-goblin]

.

#i already posted this in my personal group chat but the only person who's responded so far is my sibling #and I'd really like to hear from someone outside of “people who benefit from telling me nice things” #because yeah its probably still true but my brain won't listen #anyway #I'm probably (definitely) spending too much time on the Internet and suffering from some crazy depression #but regardless #I'm feeling like shit about my writing and it's created a negative motivation loop #I keep seeing people churn out work that's 5 to 10x longer than what I post #Some people I'm seeing do that daily #and I can barely post one or two things a month. #It's been making me feel like shit that I just can't seem to do that. #I know part of it just isn't my style #and I usually love that my work is easier to read #but i thought that would get me more engagement and i guess I was wrong #plus when all you see is negative feedback on *literally that style* and getting no positive feedback at all #it's a real fucking killer.

[angry-roomba-army]

what if the journals ranging from jealousy to near worship weren't that bad what if it was just william's gay ass theater kid poetry about his crush that looked really bad to a divorced police officer without context. i don't actually think that's what happened its just fun to think about. like what if

#angry roomba whirrs #five nights at freddys #fnaf #william afton #william afton fnaf #fnaf william afton #do you think hes a cannibalism as a metaphor for love kinda guy or does he go for a more catholic guilty ohh my love is corruption angle #like i dont really know much about catholic gulit or catholicism in general cause im not a catholic but like ive seen the tumblr posts #and the gay religious fanart #oh shoot i forgot to tag willry #willry #willry fnaf #fnaf willry #ok done PHEW #so anyway like what would a divorced police officer know about romance? firstly hes a cop secondly hes divorced so clearly not much #and we all know william hes theatrical hes a romantic or at least he seems like the romantic type im kinda jumping to conclusions here #so he would write gay ass theater kid poetry about his crush! he would! #and then when some normie ass unpoetic cop reads his DIARY of course hes not gonna understand the poetic passages dedicated to his love #like HELLO????? thats not ““““raving”””” its a SOLILOQUY come on man #and! he read his DIARY. like idc that he was investigating a murder you! dont! read! peoples! diaries! #if i were will and someone read my diary i would be so horrified like im surprised that HE wasnt the one who built a suicide bot after that #also! if you picked a random ass average target goer probably likes golf or something and showed them cannibalism as a metaphor for love #poetry they probably wouldn't see the poetic devotion part of it i think that they might think that you're crazy #or maybe. im just severely underestimating the poetic literacy of the average golf playing target goer that could be true #but anyways maybe thats what happened between clay and will like clay saw his poetry and was like yeah this is weird #oh shit i just realized a lot of the contents of williams diary are just public knowledge now like at least a mention of the raving passage #has to be somewhere in the case file just for anyone to access. oh god they live in a small town too word travels fast ohhh crap #well he kind of brought it upon himself like idk maybe don't kill children and your diary won't be read #by poetically illiterate and romantically stunted divorced cops #sorry im yapping. im yap deprived i needed to yap cough cough yeah that's me coughing from how yap deprived i am cough cough cough

[running-in-the-dark]

the thing is. I've said many times that it'd probably be better if I didn't post on here so much, especially when I'm not doing so great. it does not feel good. but. when I don't, it just all stays inside my head and it feels so much worse for far longer, so I really just don't know how I would cope without this.

#I mean I used to write in my diary instead. but it's not the same. it's like talking to myself which is like thinking which is the whole #damn problem in the first place #I can't bother my friends every time I feel like shit because it happens so much #and they don't get it #except my best friend but I already message them too much and they have their own shit going on #it's either this or lie in bed imagining [current blorbo] and talking it all out with them and basically just. daydreaming therapy. #but that tends to not be great because then I get stuck and don't want to do anything else because I'd rather be there forever. #which. idk but it doesn't feel that healthy to me. #I juuust want to be normal it's all I want it's all I've ever wanted #and then people say being weird is good and they love me for who I am and it's so so sweet and lovely but. I don't mean that. I mean I feel #like I'm insane and there's something wrong with my brain and it's not the fun quirky bits that people love about me. it's the never ending #constant relentless bad thoughts that I can't make go away OR even the good ones really. like I'm. so fucking obsessed right now and all I #want is to think about Dan and Jenkins but if I'm not careful it takes over everything and I. can not stop. #so. yeah I'm. not gonna leave because I can't and I don't really want to and I'm sorry because that means I'll have to keep posting #dumb shit like this every time my brain gets stupid #😭

[backroadboy]

I am obsessed with my own blogs btw

#like they are me #and I'm actually starting to have fun on tumblr again #I'm getting more comfortable and posting my own stuff and curating things for my different blogs #thighholsterdean is kinda my fave in terms of fandom stuff because i love creating this little place about cas and dean but mostly #about love and how love will persevere #and I'm actually writing again and maybe I'll post it one day and i want to get back into art even tho life is kinda shit #and I've been in such a dumb headspace especially since a very important friendship of mine ended and i felt like i was so unlovable #and fucked up. i really want to find friends once who stay and i wanna be better and i am trying and i hope people will see that #anyway i'm talking too much #txt.

[dutybcrne]

What if Diluc actually picked up a little Khaenri’ahn, enough to even discern things from context clues should he have enough key words, bc Kaeya kept slipping up and forgetting words in common and would instinctively replace them with Khaenri’ahn until he and Diluc figured out what he wanted to say. Then kept it up like a game bc it was plus Diluc was always super intrigued by Kaeya’s birth language up until Kae realized he was risking Compromising himself if Diluc or Crepus ever realizes Exactly what it was and abruptly stopped altogether-

#hc; kaeya #//That bit just for a little portion of the post & some tags #//Brought to you by yer local bilingual who Hates English and to this day will keep replacing words in Spanish #//Either bc I forgor or it just sounds better in my speech pattern #//Bet Kae did that too #//Anywho that adds a bit of a funny for me to Diluc leaving #//Bc then it’d Hit Him one night; and mans’d wake up in a cold sweat all pissed like YOU MEAN HE WAS BEING SO OBVIOUS AND I DIDN’T NOTICE??? #//Like to think it came in handy when he started dealing with the Abyss Order #//Mans hearing the mages talking and realizing he can Understand some of what they say thanks to his childhood games with Kaeya #//Mans also knowing how to cuss out an Abyss Mage bc he either heard Kae say it or Kae himself taught him #//Back when they were still on good terms & he wasn’t so cagey about the language #//His pronunciations would prolly be so Off tho ndndn; they’d prolly be more scared of him himself than his threats #//Bet Kae also tried to teach him the writings; but between his dyslexia and his lack of writing experience; it prolly wasn’t much good #//Luc’d have to clown an Abyss mage and bully them into reading the writings aloud for him so he can try and Get it jdjjd #//I like to think when they get on better terms; Kae resumes teaching him #//More people to share his language with and help keep it alive #//Plus they can shit talk people & banter all covert like that jdbdb #//Anywho; hi; irl hit me like a truck #//I have no spoons save to lurk a bit #//Ok byeee

[strwbrymlkshake]

you lied to me, and ruined everything, and ruined how I approach almost any romantic feeling at all. and all you can describe it as is having fucking beef with me. and you don't even recognize your own actions. you don't even fucking remember them. you aren't phased by it at all. I agonized, had meltdowns over it. losing me, ruining me was just a regular fucking day for you.

#mine #the other day i thought. why is my hatred worth it. why am i continuing with this? #🪳 #why am i continuing with something that happened so long ago. why do i CARE. and this is why. fucking indifference #no amount of fucking sorries will fix it. no amount of i love yous will fix it. #there is nothing you can do for my forgiveness other than die. <- banger post btw i need to make that #and this is just? fucking irrelevant to you? you changed the trajectory of my life forever and you can barely even remember #youre so wrapped up in your sick little romantic fantasy you dont even realize how many people hate you. #all the time i hear it. if so fucking many people hate the both of you and dont want you to be together then its not destiny! #you only stay together because youd be fucking nothing without eachother? so itd be best to just kill yourselves<3 #good evening yangang how are you all today. im balls to the wall batshit insane and about to get a murder charge #also good evening to everyone except terrible pieces of shit who i hate and want dead and who im writing this about. #me when i definitely have an undiagnosed mental disorder but idk what it is for sure so i just say im insane #like definitely BPD but there is something else too i feel like this cant just be one disorder #at this point i dont care if im forever regarded as a shit person because of all this. people dont really like me anyway? except val #shoutouts to val everybody. if they are reading this hii hello bestie #well there is a select few people who like me. but not enough that CARE about me. doomy for example is keeping me going #even if its just through mundane posting like this. i cant believe im liked let alone loved #maybe only my surface level personality is desirable but the more you get to know me the more annoying i am #well they still like me despite the fact im displaying every mental illness everyday on tumblr.com so thats niceys #no person is entirely bad or good. i feel like thats me though. i have so many bad actions. but so many good actions too. two halves #two wolves inside of you and all that business. thats me #also lotto to me to choosing the most shit idiot guys to care about ever this one isnt even responding to my misery #well he never responds to anyone elses misery either. and only mine if directly asked. #hes too much of a puzzle for miserable me to figure out. #well im done being angry here u go here's the post

[todayisafridaynight]

fucked up that i have two drafted comics of jo in jail and both of them Of Course hinge on whether aoki's alive or not

#snap chats #ok i have ONE of them drafted but the other one's drafted in my brain #i actually drafted the first one months ago but i didnt think it was worth anything so. its just collecting dust now #it was supposed to be a comic where ichi visits jo and has to tell him what happened to aoki #and of course the second one. da shit i been screaming and crying about all day and have been cryin bout For Months #i might do that one.. idk... idk why not.... #kinda wanna write a ficlet instead tho... but who's to say i cant do both right #me. thats the problem with me 😭 if it's too short i say 'i can just make a comic of it' #but if it's too long i say 'i'll make a fic of it' but im terrible at writing fics #but then it really will be too long to make a comic of it in a day or two and if i cant complete something in a day Or Two i dont do it #because i SUCK thats why #i just cant write a fic and make a comic... in my brain its impossible for the two to exist at the same time... #feeling like im ripping off myself Bitch WHAT. also i wouldnt want people to read the same thing twice note for note #anyway this wasnt the post i wanted to make that i ref'd in my last ask. i just happened to remember This Is A Thing #and i also was thinking about sketching out that Other prison comic before bed #ok another rambly post incoming bye