#tw: internalized homophobia

[withacapitalp]

Trust Me

Read it on AO3 instead here. Special thanks to @riality-check for betaing for me!!! I love me some genderfluid Steve Harrington, and writing this was so much fun!! TW: internalized homophobia, internalized transphobia, and a couple f slurs

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It started with the long navy skirt that Carol’s mother got her for her thirteenth birthday. 

Well, maybe it started a lot earlier. Maybe it started with Steve being both Tommy and Carol’s first kiss, or maybe it started with Steve always wanting to play house, or maybe it never really ‘started’ in the first place. Maybe this was just always who he was. 

But Carol thinks it really started with that long navy skirt. 

It wasn’t really Carol’s style. It was floor length and just a bit too long. When she tried it on, the bottom pooled around her on the floor like a rushing river. Her mom promised to get it tailored and told her to hang it up in her closet. 

Carol, in a hurry to get dressed before Steve and Tommy, left it on her desk instead. 

Her thirteenth birthday was perfect. Just her and her boys doing whatever she wanted. They went to Enzo’s for a fancy Italian dinner, watched a romance movie that Tommy pretended to hate, and got two scoops of cotton candy ice cream afterward to split. Her parents even let the boys sleep over in her bedroom as long as they all promised that Tommy and Steve were going to stay on the floor. 

They broke that promise pretty much the second the door was shut, but what her mom and dad didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. 

Carol fell asleep squished between her two favorite people, snuggled in warm and safe. 

She woke up half cold. 

Tommy was still curled up on her left side, snoring and dead to the world, but her right side was chilly, and when she spread her fingers out searching, only the blankets greeted her. 

Steve wasn’t there. 

Carol cracked one eye open, looking past the empty bed and towards the clock on her bedside table. 3:48 am. 

Way too early to be awake, even for an early bird like their Stevie. If it was Tommy, she would’ve just rolled over and went back to bed, assuming he was just getting up to pee or something. That was probably what Steve was doing. Carol didn’t need to worry. 

But…but it was Steve, and Steve had a tendency to get himself into trouble. The little voice in the back of Carol’s head that sounded like her mother was nagging at her, telling her to check on him, telling her to make sure, just make sure. 

So, with a heaving sigh, Carol untangled herself from Tommy’s octopus grip and pushed herself out of bed, shivering slightly when her bare feet touched the freezing cold floor. She scurried over to where her slippers were, jamming them on and walking out the door yawning. 

She was too busy rubbing at her sleep filled eyes to notice the skirt that had been on her desk was missing. 

Light spilled into the hallway from down the stairs, directing Carol to where she would find her missing boy. She decided to slide down the banister to avoid the creaky steps, smothering a giggle and keeping quiet. Steve was probably just getting a midnight snack and watching one of her VHS tapes. Maybe she would join him, and they could watch Robin Hood or Mary Poppins and fall asleep on the couch together like they did sometimes. 

But when Carol finally peeked into the living room, she stopped short.

Steve wasn’t sitting on the couch munching on chips or drinking a soda, and the television was dark. He wasn’t sitting at all, actually. Stevie was standing by the big accent mirror her mother put in the corner of the room, looking at his reflection as he idly twirled back and forth. 

That wasn’t the part that made Carol freeze in place. 

She froze because he was wearing her new skirt. 

It looked like it fit him wonderfully, actually. Steve had shot up like a weed last year, growing practically a foot in height, so the maxi length reached almost exactly halfway down his calves. His waist, which had always been tiny, looked positively perfect. If it was another girl trying it on, Carol would already be gushing about how cute it was. 

But it wasn’t another girl.

It was Steve. 

Her Steve. One of her boys. One of her boys was wearing a skirt, and it was a definitive fact that boys did not wear skirts. She would’ve figured it was just a joke, something stupid to make her and Tommy laugh, but then why would Steve do this in the middle of the night when they wouldn’t be awake to tease him? Why would he come downstairs when everyone else was asleep?

Why did Steve look like he was about to cry? 

Any thoughts Carol had about poking fun at him disappeared. Steve never cried. Never ever. She hadn’t even seen him cry when he broke his wrist falling out of the tree in his backyard. The only time she had ever seen Steve cry was the first time his parents had missed one of his basketball games, and she hadn’t even ‘seen’ that, just heard it through his locked bedroom door. 

(She didn’t like to remember that day. He had been crying so loudly it carried through his whole house. Carol guessed Steve never learned how to do that quietly, considering there was no need. His parents weren’t there.)

Sure, they liked to mess with each other, and Carol was never afraid of saying something that other people might be too sensitive about because she knew Steve could take it, but something about this just felt…different. 

“Stevie?” Carol called, stepping into the room. He immediately stiffened up, the soft slope of his shoulders growing rigid with fear. Steve looked at her from the reflection of the mirror, not turning to face her properly. 

He looked completely terrified, and that just wouldn’t do. She didn’t know what to say or think about a boy wearing a skirt, but she did know how to deal with Steve. 

“It looks pretty,” Carol said with false lightness, walking into the room and standing behind Steve in the mirror. She tried to catch his eye and give him one of her sweetest smiles, but it fell when Steve avoided her gaze. 

“It doesn’t,” Steve muttered, curling in on himself and grabbing at the hem of the old t-shirt he was wearing as pajamas, “I look silly.” 

“I think it’s pretty,” she argued back.

Yes, he did look kind of silly, but she couldn’t stand seeing him make himself small like that. Steve did that whenever he was talking to his mom and dad, he would hide himself away and try to take up less space, but he never did that with her and Tommy. Carol wasn’t going to let him start now. Not because of this. 

“It is really pretty, Stevie,” Carol added on, reaching out to put her hand on his shoulder, “The cut is nice, and it makes your waist look so small. I wish mine looked like that! Plus the color compliments your-”

“I look ridiculous, Carrie,” Steve interrupted harshly, jerking away from her before she could touch him and squeezing his eyes shut tight, “Like a fag, a sick freak.” 

Carol left her hand hovering in the air, her stomach disappearing. Those weren’t Steve’s words. Steve would never say something that mean. 

Carol knew she could be mean sometimes, and she knew Tommy could be even meaner other times, but that was only to people who deserved it. Steve was never mean, even to people who deserved it. He was a total sweetheart, soft and gentle, and he needed her and Tommy to protect those soft gentle parts of him.

The parts that would hurt if he heard things like that. The parts that would hold onto words like those, waiting for the perfect moment to turn them inward and hurt himself. 

He had gotten those words from somewhere, and Carol was pretty sure she knew where. But no matter who had said them or about what, she knew she needed to make them go away. 

Somehow. 

“Well, it does look a little weird,” Carol started, quickly continuing when she saw Steve’s lip starting to wobble, “But not because it’s you wearing it! Just… that skirt really doesn’t work with your PJs. Wait, wait right here, I have an idea. Trust me.” 

She scampered up the stairs, practically flying into her room and rooting around in her closet, throwing things left and right. When she found what she was looking for she gasped in delight, a sound that was just loud enough to make Tommy snuffle slightly away. 

“Go back to sleep,” Carol said in a soft sing-song voice, pausing briefly in her mission to skip over and press a quick kiss to Tommy’s cheek. 

She loved Tommy, and she knew Steve loved Tommy, and she knew that Tommy loved both of them, but this still didn’t feel like something that they needed to share with him. At least, not just yet. 

Luckily, Tommy hummed happily and turned over, going back to his snoring. She chuckled quietly to herself and began to walk out, grabbing the big jewelry box from the top of her dresser as an afterthought. 

Steve was still standing exactly where she had left him, looking out of place and uncomfortable in his body. The words ‘sick freak’ were still burning in her chest, and she could see them written on his features. 

The other word was there too, but Carol couldn’t think about that word. She used it, and Tommy used it, but never for real. Steve had said it for real, stamping himself with a label that didn’t fit right. 

Yeah, he and Tommy had kissed a couple times, but Steve had also kissed her a few times, and she kissed Tommy all the time. It was just something they had as friends, practice for when they got real boyfriends and girlfriends. That didn’t make them fags. That just…it made her boys her boys. That was all. 

No matter what, Steve wasn’t a freak, and he definitely wasn’t sick. He was the coolest boy in school, her very best friend. He was soft and gentle where she and Tommy were hard and biting, and the three of them worked perfectly. Everyone looked up to them, everyone wanted to be them. Anything he wanted to do was right.

So if Steve wanted to wear something pretty, then Carol was going to make sure it was absolutely perfect. 

“Here,” Carol said, handing over the sweater she had been looking for. 

It was cashmere, soft and buttery to the touch, with a cream and dark blue striped pattern. Her uncle had gotten it for her in Paris, but he always got things way too big. It was ‘so she could grow into it’, but Carol really hoped she would never grow into an extra extra large. 

Steve took the sweater from here, but didn’t move to put it on. He just held it, rubbing his thumb along the fabric and staring down at it with a strange longing. 

“Go on. It’ll match way better,” Carol urged, nudging his shoulder with her own and stepping back. He stayed still. 

“Trust me,” Carol repeated, keeping her face open and honest. 

Steve tossed her an unsure look but did as he was told, hesitantly pulling his t-shirt off and slipping into the sweater. Without the pajamas clashing, the skirt looked even better, and Steve was even starting to cautiously admire his reflection again. 

“Now let’s tuck it in,” Carol said, pushing away any lingering confusion and moving straight into business mode. She didn't have to think about whether it was right for Steve to want to wear a skirt, she just had to make sure that it looked good. 

She pulled Steve so he was back directly in front of the mirror, standing behind him and reaching around. She tucked the bottom of the sweater into his skirt, fussing for a second to make sure it wasn’t bunched up anywhere and smoothing down the creases where his broad shoulders didn’t quite match up to the way the sweater was cut. 

“Give me a twirl,” Carol ordered, spinning her finger the way her mother always did when she had Carol try on something new. 

“Twirl?” Steve questioned, standing awkwardly. 

Carol nodded eagerly, sitting on the coffee table and putting her jewelry box down next to her. She never really liked it when her mom made her do this, but it was enjoyable to watch someone else. Carol had always wanted a sister to play dress up with, and while this wasn’t exactly the same, it was still pretty fun. 

Now that she was getting into it, it didn’t really seem all that strange to her, and the longer she looked at Steve in her clothes, the more normal it all seemed. It was just dress up, just something fun to do with her very best friend. Didn’t best friends try on each other’s clothes all the time? Tommy and Steve practically shared one wardrobe. 

This wasn’t that weird. Just dress up. 

Steve continued to just stand there for a minute before taking a deep breath and spinning in the smallest fastest circle she had ever seen. His face was beet red and he was staring down at his feet, but Carol could see the smile starting to grow on his face. 

She made another teasing circle with her finger and Steve twirled around for her again, bigger this time. She giggled, and he answered with his own quiet laugh. The air in the room was growing bright and warm and Carol hopped up from her spot, grabbing Steve’s hand and tugging him over to the couch. 

“Time for accessories,” She declared, dragging her box over and opening it. It was stuffed to the bursting with tons of different bits and baubles, and Carol began to root through it, picking out a few things she thought would match. 

“Do I need these?” Steve wondered aloud, looking wide eyed at all the different options. 

“Accessories make an outfit, Stevie,” Carol said, parroting the words her mother always said to her. 

She put a bunch of her silver bangles around one of his wrists, and her favorite blue and white polka dot scrunchie around the other. None of her rings would fit Steve’s fingers, and his hair was too short for his hair was too short for any of her ribbons or to make a braid, but she did find a few star and moon barrettes to clip in that looked nice. 

Carol pulled back to look at the whole outfit, tapping her lip with the tip of her finger. There was still something missing, something not quite right. 

“Oh!” Carol said, realizing what was wrong. She reached up behind her own head, undoing the clasp and reaching up to put it around Steve’s neck instead. 

“Wait, what are you-”

“Trust me,” Carol crooned, continuing to put the necklace around Steve’s neck. When the clasp was locked in place, she fixed the chain, arranging it exactly as she wanted. 

“There, that’s better,” She said with a satisfied smile. 

The locket was gold, which didn’t exactly match what she was trying to do with his ensemble, but it was the thing that was missing. Steve and Tommy had gotten it for her for her tenth birthday, and both of their pictures were inside, along with one of her baby teeth.  

It was cheap, and her mother didn’t like it very much, but they had saved all of their pocket money to get it for her, and it was Carol’s prized possession. She never let anyone else touch it, and the only time she took it off was to take a bath or grab a shower. 

She could feel its absence now, the lack of weight that was usually there on her neck, but the sensation didn’t fill her with the usual anxiety it caused. She knew it was in safe hands. 

Out of the three of them, Steve was always the gentlest.

Steve looked lost again, reaching up to touch the locket in silent wonder. The bracelets around his wrist jangled against each other, and he almost startled at the sound, unused to wearing any jewelry. She snickered, opening up one of the other drawers in her box. 

“Do you want some makeup?” Carol whispered conspiratorially, pulling out her secret eyeshadow and mascara, “My mom doesn’t know I have these, but I swiped them from the department store a couple months ago,”

Steve quickly shook his head, staying uncharacteristically silent. Carol could tell he wanted to say yes, and she really wanted to try and see if she could do a better job on him than she did on herself when she tried to put it on, but she held back. Steve was brand new to pretty clothes, and doing too much at once would probably be overwhelming. 

He already looked pretty shocked as it was. 

“Okay. Now let’s look properly,” Carol said, clapping her hands and pulling them both out of their thoughts. 

She held out her hand and Steve took it, interlocking their fingers. Carol passively thought about different nail polish colors she could try on Steve as she walked them both towards the mirror. He probably wouldn’t like pink, but maybe baby blue? Or white with little stickers. That could look nice. 

Or maybe this was a one time thing. Maybe Steve would look at his reflection and totally hate it and never want to try again. 

That’s what Carol should want, right? It wasn’t normal for boys to want to put on pretty clothes, and it would be better if Steve decided he didn’t like it. 

So why was she so hopeful that Steve would like how he looked as much as she did? 

“How do you feel?” Carol asked as they reached the mirror, looking anxiously at their reflections. 

Steve looked like himself still, but changed, evolved. It was like those soft parts of him- the gentle ones he kept hidden just for Tommy and Carol- were finally on full display, and the result was gorgeous.  

The lean muscles that were starting to develop on Steve’s arms from swimming practice were hidden under cashmere stripes, and the barely there baby fat that was starting to fade made her want to squeeze his cheeks. He had a sweet smile on his face and he kept glancing shyly from the mirror down to his hands and back up to the mirror. It was like he was scared to see himself, but couldn’t look away. 

“Pretty,” He whispered, his voice filled with awe, making Carol’s chest brim with light, “I feel pretty.” 

“No,” She whispered back, leaning her head against his upper arm and beaming, “Trust me. You’re beautiful.” 

“Beautiful,” He repeated, holding the word reverently on his tongue. Carol stood on her tip toes and kissed Steve’s cheek, wrapping her arms around his bicep and going back to looking at their reflections. 

Carol’s mom never ended up getting that navy skirt tailored, because she never saw it again. When she asked her daughter, Carol played dumb, telling her it was in the laundry or missing somewhere in the house. 

Her mother never found out that the skirt and the sweater that had never fit Carol now lived in the back of Steve Harrington’s closet, hidden inside a fabric bag behind a box of old baby clothes. 

#Steve harrington #stranger things #st #carol perkins #Tommy hagan #stommy #Steve Tommy and carol #idk what their ship name is #anyway they were a triad for sure unknowingly #internalized homophobia #homophobia #tw: homophobia #tw: internalized homophobia #transfemme Steve harrington #genderfluid steve harrington #Liam writes #Steve harringtons parents #Steve harringtons dad #Steve harringtons mom #Liam speaks up #Writing(withacapitalW)

[schrijverr]

I Found Myself a Cheerleader 1

Chapter 1 out of 28

Bumped to the lowest step on the social ladder after his fight with Billy, Steve gets roped in with the cheer team. What starts as a favor to help them out when one member breaks her leg in turn for protection from the brunt of the bullying, sets the universe on a different path.

He befriends Chrissy and grows as thick as thieves with her. Over the summer he adds Robin to his friends as well. Meanwhile Eddie seems to have taken an interest in the fallen king, but Steve can’t figure out quite yet why Eddie is talking with him. Flirting with him?

On AO3.

Ships: eventual steddie & buckingham

Warnings: period typical sexism, period typical homophobia, internalized homophobia, child neglect mention, bullying, f-slur

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Chapter 1: The Deal

Steve has quit the basketball team after winter break. Before winter break he was technically still on the team, but not allowed to play due to his concussion. Now he is healed enough to get back on the court, but Billy has turned most of the team against him, which makes playing impossible. Hence the quitting.

However, now he has a slot he needs to fill if he wants to make it into college. He can’t join some braniac team, he’s barely scraping by. Going back to swimming also isn’t an option, since the swim team is practically the same as the basketball team and he doesn’t fancy drowning.

He wishes he could just continue playing basketball. That it wasn’t that bad. That he could man up and make it through. But he can’t, he really can’t. He likes his bones in one piece and the doctor said another concussion might be the end of what his brain can take.

So, he sits longingly alongside the court and watches the team train, aching to just have an activity he is good at again. To not feel like such a failure.

A loud and frustrated sigh pulls him from his thoughts and his eyes are pulled to the cheerleaders that are also practicing in the gym. The captain of the cheer team, Molly, throws up her hands and says: “It isn’t gonna work like this.”

“No need to snap,” Heather, one of the other girls, scowls. “Mary can’t help that she’s sick. She’ll be back after the weekend and then we’ll train the whole thing properly.”

“I know that,” Molly snaps. “But it’s throwing everything off and we need to get this routine straight. We can’t afford to have anyone missing.”

“We know,” Heather rolls her eyes, still posed to fight.

Molly sighs and says: “I just need this competition to go well.”

Heather softens at that and places a hand on Molly’s shoulder and smiles: “We’re gonna kill it. Don’t worry too much, Molls. Lets just run it again, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Molly smiles, before loudly clapping her hands and getting everyone back into position to go from the top.

Without realizing Steve has ambled closer to the cheerleaders. He startles a little at the loud clap, before watching at the routine starts up again. He has often watched the cheerleaders, they’re at the sides of big games and the team always stared together.

However, he has never really paid any attention to their training. Right now, though, he watches in awe as they toss each other in the air and keep smiling as they tumble about.

Since he is aware of it, he can clearly see where one of the girls is missing. When some of the girls are lifted some shapes are uneven and a few stay on the ground with an annoyed look. Certain formations are also incomplete. At one point one of the girls nearly falls, because someone who is supposed to be there isn’t.

The routine comes to an end and Steve can clearly see Molly, who is on the cusp of breaking down again. In Steve’s opinion it doesn’t look that difficult, well, what seems to be missing that is. It’s just holding someone up. Not like he has to do a back flip.

He hasn’t consciously realized what he’s doing until he’s tapping Molly on the shoulder. She startles and turns, before getting big eyes and smiling softly as she greets: “Hi, Steve.”

While Steve’s popularity has gone down considerably since Billy showed up, he is still well liked under the female student body. He smiles back at her and says: “Hi, Molly. Uhm- This is really stupid.” He rubs the back of his head, suddenly aware of how much he is not allowed to do what he is about to do. “I-” he lets out a breath and decides to go for it. “I heard you talking earlier, about missing someone. Can I help?”

It’s quiet and Steve immediately regrets even looking in their direction.

A boy doesn’t do cheerleading, it’s a girls sport. Barely even a sport. Just a thing they do to look pretty. He has no business being close to it beyond asking a cheerleader out. He has already plummeted vastly in popularity, the last thing he needs is gay rumors floating around. No matter how true they’d be.

He just wants to be helpful, do something he might be able to for a change. But he didn’t think it through and now he’s done something stupid. Like he always does.

Steve is about to take it back, play it off as a joke or just walk away if nothing comes to mind in the next second, when Molly lights up. “That’s perfect!” she grins. “Mary is a base position, which should be easy to teach. Thank you so much.”

Some of the other girls send him some weird looks, but after Molly’s relieved thanks, he doesn’t have the heart to turn away. So, he awkwardly shrugs: “It’s no problem, not like I have anything better to do.”

He is ignored by Molly, who turns around and addresses the others: “Go over parts you’re struggling with for a little. Lisa, Karen, Susan, come here!”

Three girls come their way as the others devolve into doing their own thing. Molly asks him: “Are you warmed up?”

Steve doesn’t think this will be that much effort, so he nods. It’s honestly his mistake, along with staying in his jeans and shirt.

He is shown the proper way to hold up a flyer. He hadn’t even realized before now that there were multiple positions in cheerleading. However, here he is. He is filling in for a base, so he’s holding Karen, the flyer, along with Lisa, the other base. Meanwhile Susan is the back spotter, she is the first to catch Karen should it go wrong. It’s important to catch the flyer properly or one can risk hurting the flyer quite badly.

Within a few minutes Steve gains so much respect for cheerleading, something he and the other guys have always put aside as some easy girly thing.

As he lifts Karen, he can feel her muscles under his hands as she has to keep everything tense as to not loose her balance on just their hands. Lisa is also a lot stronger than she looks, holding half of Karen’s weight along with Steve. He is already sweating through his polo and he definitely can’t keep smiling as he does this.

After a while he is able to get it. Molly is satisfied with his progress and deems it enough to call everyone together again. She says: “Okay, we can’t go through the routine, because Steve doesn’t know it and he isn’t going to learn this quick. So, we’re just going through the pyramids slowly, alright?”

She gets cheers back and instructs Lisa to make sure Steve knows what to do as everyone moves back to position.

Lisa is his saving grace, because Steve can’t keep up with how easily they all shift between position, creating structures out of just their bodies, before flipping down, tumbling around and doing it again.

He hadn’t realized how much mental space it takes to keep track of everyone’s position. He is very impressed with all the cheerleaders and he is genuinely having fun.

Cheerleading is a physical activity that he’s actually quite good at, throwing Karen around with ease and watching her fly. And for once he isn’t being pushed around.

A part of him knows that he shouldn’t be having fun, that he should have never even offered to do it and play it off as trying to get a date if someone asked. But it’s hard to keep the happiness away or not reply to the high five Lisa offers when they pull off a tricky stunt.

So, it’s not until the basketball team takes a break and he is spotted that the pit in his stomach, that he felt when he first offered, returns. He’s holding one of Karen’s legs when he hears Billy sneer: “Look at that, Harrington’s turned from a king into a princess.”

He can’t risk hurting Karen, so he grits his teeth as he hears the rest of his former team snicker. The stunt still needs to be completed, so Steve tries to tune them out as they bounce so Karen gets the height she needs for a flip.

Once she is safely on the ground, Steve looks at his old teammates, who have all collected to laugh at him. His cheeks burn with shame and he looks to the ground. He just wanted to help, do something nice for a change.

A hand on his arm, makes him look up. Lisa is looking at him with a kind and concerned look. She quietly says: “You don’t have to stick around. We get it. Mary will get better and we’ll pick up training Monday again.”

Steve is quite tempted to take her offer. To just run and be a coward, because a coward is better than being tossed for the tigers. Being a coward is better than being a queer.

However, before he can, Molly is speaking up. She overheard what Lisa said and doesn’t want to stop training. She needs Steve there. She crosses her arms and says: “All of you stop laughing right now, or you’re not getting a date from a cheerleader for the rest of the year. Steve was gentleman enough to offer help when we needed it. Maybe take an example.”

That shuts the boys right up. Steve knows what they talk about in the locker room, almost all the boys there want a date with a cheerleader. A bit of fun at Steve’s expense isn’t worth blowing that chance over.

Billy’s face goes through an amusing journey of emotions. In the end he scoffs and turns away with a: “Let the ballerinas do their thing.”

Molly’s face contorts in a hateful look, before she takes a deep breath and lets it go. Steve honestly admires her ability to do so.

She turns back to Steve and puts on big eyes as she clasps her hands together and says: “Please, Steve, stay for a little. We really appreciate your help. You’re such a gentleman, I mean that, you know. A knight in shining armor. Please, stay a little more, we’d all owe you.”

If he hadn’t grown up around his mother and seen how Molly plastered on the dainty, pleading eyes, he wouldn’t have realized this was a manipulation. She is playing into his masculinity and implying he could score a date if he stays.

Luckily for Molly, Steve is having too much fun to turn down a reason to continue, so he pretends to fall for it. He puts on his best smirk and replies: “I mean, how could I refuse a lady in need of help.”

She brightens up, this time the smile is genuine and Steve feels even better about his decision to fuck what anyone thinks. He has already been kicked to the bottom of the ladder. If he has to be here, he might as well do something fun.

He discovers that cheerleaders train almost more rigorously as the basketball team. He is there for another hour, running through the drills again and again. By the time they go home, he at least knows where to stand to not be in the way, though the arm movements escape him.

As he leaves, Lisa gives him a soft smile. She isn’t the loudest, but Steve quite likes her calm and steady presence. Throwing Karen around together has created a bit of a bond. So, he smiles back and says: “Bye, Lisa.”

“Bye, Steve,” she says. “Thank you for staying. Molly has been really stressed about practice lately.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” he tells her, looking around for a second, before he admits: “It was quite fun actually. You girls are crazy strong. I never realized.”

That makes Lisa let out a laugh and she grins: “We’re full of surprises,” before they truly say goodbye and go their separate ways.

Steve has been avoiding showering at school with the basketball team out to get him, so he gets into his car in sweaty clothes. Today he’s relieved his parents are never home. Explaining why he’s sweaty in his day clothes to his father would likely be the last thing he did.

Another thing he is relieved about, is that it is weekend. He hopes that it either doesn’t go the rounds that badly with no one stuck in one building and that by the time Monday rolls around the excitement will have died down.

He gets radioed by Dustin, asking him to drive him and the rest of the nerd squad to the arcade. He agrees easily, needing the distraction.

Because what Steve hadn’t counted on, is how the cheerleading would get stuck in his head. He had expected it to be a one time thing, something nice that would keep his mind of basketball for a bit, but instead he can’t help but think back on how much fun he’d had.

Cheerleaders have a very different team dynamic from basketball. There is more yelling of good jobs and needing to work together, instead of people trying to steal the spotlight and pushing each other around. It was quite nice.

Plus, it felt great to exercise again. And it felt much more like a team sport with Karen needing to trust him and Lisa to keep her upright and to count on Lisa to do her part, while Steve did his. He can’t deny that a part of him wants to do it again.

So, he drives up to Dustin’s house, then the others and listens to them gush about the campaign Will is running, making the shy boy blush. Then they move on how Max still has the high score, but she’s gonna meet them there and Dustin will observe her strategy, then beat her.

Steve doubts that, Max is a beast in the arcade. However, he lets Dustin live in his world as he watches them go nuts, lending the group quarters when they start to come up short.

He muses that these kids have a hobby they like. He used to have that, but basketball is kind of off limits right now. Even playing just for fun is ruined, since those games are mostly the basketball team or people who are friends with the basketball team. All of whom now hate Steve.

He still shoots some hoops alone in his backyard and swims laps in the pool (albeit with less ease after Barb), but he wants to do something with other people again.

Once more his mind drifts to cheerleading, but he quickly pushes that thought away. Cheerleading is for girls, he already got enough shit as is, he doesn’t need more. Besides, Mary will return and they won’t even need an extra person.

It’s not going to happen, so he should let it go and find something new.

“For the last time, zoomer isn’t a thing,” Mike complains loudly. Lucas jumps to Max’s defense at that, something that isn’t appreciated and the group devolves into squabbling over DnD categories again.

Steve wonders if he should pick up DnD. Dustin has explained it to him a few times, but it sounded hard and the thought of having to face Eddie Munson and his crew made Steve’s stomach churn.

He knows it’s his own fault that such a group will probably not welcome him with open arms, but it still isn’t a great feeling. Now that he is paying attention to others than the basketball team more, he can’t deny that the Hellfire club seems to like each other a lot more. Something that Steve will never get to experience, because he burned those bridges before they could even form.

Maybe he could join band. His parents forced him to learn piano when he was younger, though he doubts piano is part of band. Besides, he has seen the people at the band table. He likely won’t be welcome there either.

Honestly, at this point the only place he might not get shunned is the Hawkins High school newspaper, but that will be because of Nancy and Jonathan, which will only make it all the more mortifying. No thanks.

Contemplating his position, he lets out a deep sigh. Then yelps when a voice next to him suddenly asks: “Are you okay, Steve?”

He looks down to see Will looking up at him with concerned eyes. Steve forces a smile onto his face and assures the kid: “Yeah, baby Byers, I’m okay. You doing good? Need a quarter?”

“No, it’s fine,” Will tells him. “I was just asking, because you look sad. Mom told me to keep an eye on you. She wants to make sure you know you can talk to her about what all happened. You sure nothing’s bothering you?”

Will says it with the ease of a kid, who isn’t fully aware of when they are sharing too much, but the words hit Steve right in the chest.

After the Upside Down bullshit, he hasn’t been sleeping as well and there is no one really to lean on. He is distracting himself with school and driving the kids around. His parents aren’t home to notice anything, yet here Joyce is, showing more care than any adult ever has for Steve.

He has to swallow as to not break down and ruffles Will’s hair as he clears his throat. “That’s sweet, kid, but I’m good. I promise. Just thinking about school.”

At that Will nods with understanding and it hurts that this little kid knows more about what Steve is going through at his age. No one should have to struggle with kids being mean, but Will especially doesn’t deserve it with all he has been through.

To distract from the moment, he holds up a quarter and says: “Wanna bet I can beat Dustin’s Pac-Man high score?”

Will giggles: “He’ll be so mad if you do. It’s his only pride after Max took over everywhere.”

“Lets go boil his blood,” Steve tells Will, even though he isn’t even good at Pac-Man. However, it will make Will laugh and then he can make the kid try, paying for it, because he saw how Will ran out of coins a bit ago.

The weekend passes further until it is Monday and he is parking at the school. He isn’t looking forward to walking in there, not able to predict what he’ll find. He doesn’t like being unprepared in social situations.

As he walks down the hall, he gets a few weird looks, but no one says anything about it. Maybe Molly’s threat about the dates worked and no one is daring. Steve hopes so.

His luck doesn’t hold up, sadly. During first period a note is handed to him with a crude drawing of him in a cheering costume, the word princess written above it. The door to a classroom is opened for him with the comment: “Ladies first.”

Steve honestly finds it more childish and annoying than hurtful, except that it keeps hitting home what he already knew. That he wasn’t supposed to do that and there is something wrong with him, because he actually enjoyed himself, because he even thought of doing it.

Because cheerleading is for girls. It’s not for boys and the fact that Steve did it and enjoyed it means that somewhere in his brain there is something wrong with him. He already knows that there is something wrong with him, but having it spelled out for him?

It’s soul crushing.

By the time lunch period rolls around, he already knows that he doesn’t want to be in the cafeteria right now. It’s still too cold for anyone to sit outside, besides stepping out for a smoke. So, he sets up camp on a wall outside and eats his lunch. Rather cold than a target.

About halfway through lunch, he hears someone approaching. He steels himself for whatever is coming his way. He turns around, surprised to see it’s Molly and Heather, Lisa running after them as if she is trying to stop them.

She doesn’t make it in time, because Molly is already there. She is staring him down and Steve wonders what she has heard to make her look like that. Uncertain, he asks: “Can I help you with something?”

“Emma broke her leg,” Molly says in lieu of an answer.

“Okay?” Steve replies.

“We need someone to take her place in the competition two weeks from now,” Molly explains further and it starts to click what she is asking.

“No,” Steve denies immediately. He wants to say yes, he would love to do more if he were to listen to the little voice in his head, but he can’t. He has already seen what just one time helping out did to the tatters of his reputation, he can’t imagine what everyone will think or say if he took part in a competition.

Frustration creeps into Molly’s face and she protests: “But Lisa said you told her you had fun. You were good at it. Why not?”

“Molly, no.” Lisa is finally there. She looks apologetically at Steve and says: “I didn’t know she would do this when I mentioned it. I’m sorry, Steve.”

She looks genuinely distraught and Steve instantly feels bad for her. They had built up the most camaraderie together. She obviously felt the same and despite the fact that they needed someone, there was already enough solidarity between them after one practice that she would stick up for him against the cheer captain. That never happens in basketball.

“Let her try,” Heather cuts in, backing up the cheer captain. From what Steve had seen, Heather isn’t afraid to stop Molly if she thinks the other goes too far. Right now she apparently agrees with her friend, though.

Lisa sends him another apologetic look that he answers with a reassuring smile.

Molly gets the attention back on herself and says: “Look, I know why you’re saying no. Trust me, I get it. But this competition is the biggest of the season. It’s statewide and there will be college scouts there. You don’t understand, I need this competition to go well.”

She looks at him with intense eyes and Steve knows this so well. Right now she isn’t trying to manipulate him, she is talking to him as a fellow athlete, whose only chance to get into college is a sports scholarship.

And a part of Steve wants to think fuck it and say yes. He is already hanging on the bottom, might as well do whatever he wants. But he can’t be like the party, like those kids who don’t care and just have fun. He can’t be anything but a Harrington.

“It’s just two weeks,” Heather pleads. “The competition is in two weeks. We’ll train every day so you get it down, you do it once and then you can walk away. We won’t ask more than that.”

“I can’t,” Steve says, sounding apologetic. “You know, I can’t. I should have never offered to help Friday. I don’t even know why you would want to associate with me. You’d be better off trying to convince one of your own friends.”

Molly huffs: “All of our friends are already on the cheer squad.”

“And most girls aren’t able to get strong enough to do the lifts in two weeks,” Lisa adds quietly, joining her friends. She obviously also wants him to say yes, even if she feels bad for how his words were being used against him.

Heather agrees too: “And we can’t teach them how to stunt or catch either in that time. We already know you can fill in as a base. Emma is a base too.”

The more they beg, the harder it is for Steve to say no. He doesn’t want to say no, they all know it, but he has to. He will only be here for half a year more, then he’ll be off to college. He’d like to say in one piece until then and this will be counterproductive.

“Think of it as a deal,” Molly tells him.

“A deal?” he repeats.

“Yeah, the cheer squad is big,” Molly explains. “At least one of us is in all of your classes. We can offer you protection, a social barrier and you can pay us back by doing the competition.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” Steve scoffs, though it is quite obvious to everyone in Hawkins High that Steve is a prime target without backup. Now that he stopped performing King Steve, it’s like everyone can see all that is wrong with him.

Clearly Molly thinks the same, because she raises her brow at him. She says: “I’m serious, Steve. I know it’s nonsense, but we’re the girls the guys want to get with and the other girls want to be. And cheer squad sticks together. When Tommy harassed Karen at a party, we all agreed he wouldn't get a date. And look at him. He’s with Carol now.”

Steve remembers the cheer squad turning against Tommy, neither of them had ever figured out why until now. Carol has always considered herself too cool for the cheer squad and Steve wonders if her dating Tommy is a rebellion against them.

“If you say yes, Billy won’t have another date with a cheerleader ever. You’ll sit at the cheer table surrounded by girls. If one of the basketball boys wants a date, they have to be nice to you,” Molly lays it out again. “Just think about it for a second.”

Molly is terrifying, Steve decides. If she ever decides to go into business, she’ll be unstoppable. It’s hard to find reasons to say no. He likes it and his father isn’t even home to be mad about it. His parents will be back next month, by that time everyone will have forgotten about this. They’ll never even have to know.

“Does the deal still stand after the competition?” Steve asks. He is also the son of a business man, he might not like it, but he knows the trade well.

“It sticks till the end of the year and if I make it into college and you have to repeat a year, it extends to next year too,” Molly promises. “Lisa will ensure it.”

“I don’t think that will happen,” Steve protests, but he feels quite relieved. He holds out his hand and smiles: “You got yourself a deal.”

“Yes,” she cheers, shaking his hand, before using the movement to pull him from the wall. “Come on,” she tells him. “No more moping outside. It’s way too cold.”

The four of them make their way inside. Steve is a big believer in seeing is believing, so he still braces himself when they enter the cafeteria. However, no one is willing to risk a cheerleader getting caught in the cross fire.

He gets many glares, but he has long since learned to keep his head up and ignore it as he follows the girls to their table. When he gets there, multiple faces erupt in smiles and Karen excitedly asks: “Did you agree?”

Steve is taken aback by how happy they all are with the news. All of them practically cheer when he nods and they pull him in their midst as they start explaining the competition to him. It’s overwhelming in a good way. Their excitement is infectious and it’s the best lunch period he’s had since before Halloween.

When lunch period is over, Heather hooks her arm around his and smiles: “We have History right now, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, a bit stunned how seriously she takes it without making a big deal out it. He should probably be embarrassed that he is being protected by a group of girls, but he can’t bring himself to care much when Heather rips up the note before it reaches him and he isn’t tripped up again in the hallways.

He has an escort for the entire day and after the last bell has rung, Susan walks with him to cheerleading practicing, because that is what he has agreed to.

This time, he knows better than to try and do this in his normal clothes, so he changes in a toilet stall, feeling a sense of solidarity with all the less sporty kids he’s seen doing that throughout the years.

They start with a warm up, which Steve takes very seriously after how sore he’d been all weekend, as he ignores the looks of the basketball team when they see him stretching with the cheerleaders in his gym clothes.

Those fucker probably thought he would be running far away from them and not dare to do anything they would dislike ever again. Steve feels a smug sense of defiance as he moves to touch his toes.

The others easily slide into splits and Steve honestly has no clue how they do it. Lisa makes eye contact with him from where she is relaxing in a split and quirks a brow at his confused expression, like she can’t understand what is weird about the situation.

“How do you do that?” Steve asks as an explanation. “How are your legs not killing you right now? That’s so fucking impressive.”

Understanding dawns on her face and she softly laughs: “Practice and patience. I’ve been doing cheer since middle school.”

“Wish I could do that,” Steve comments.

“Don’t let coach hear that or she’ll make it her mission to get you there and let me tell you, she is a hardass,” Lisa informs him.

Steve honestly hadn’t considered the fact that the cheer team would also have a coach and anxiety creeps up at the idea of having to face her. Before he can bolt, they’re interrupted by Ms. Miller, who teaches geography. “Everyone gather around,” she calls.

Reluctantly Steve follows after the girls, trying to stay out of sight of Ms. Miller. However, it’s for naught, because Ms. Miller asks: “Molly, have you found someone to replace Emma?”

“Yes, coach,” Molly says. “Steve is helping out.”

Ms. Miller frowns and Steve feels the heat gathering in his cheeks as everyone parts so she can see Steve. Awkwardly he smiles at her and waves. “Uhm, hi, Ms. Miller.”

“It’s coach Miller here,” she tells him. “I expect you to take this seriously. Are you able to do that, Steve?”

“Yes, coach,” the answer comes naturally.

Coach Miller smiles: “Good to hear. Do you have any clue what we’re doing?”

“Uhm, I subbed for Mary Friday, but other than that, no clue,” Steve answers honestly. “Except that it’s for a competition.”

Surprise flashes over coach Miller’s face at the confession, but it is quickly replaced by glee. She claps her hands together and blows her whistle: “Alright everyone, we’re going through the whole thing from the top. Slowly. Make sure Steve knows what’s happening next.”

Everyone immediately starts moving. For a second Steve stands there unsure of what to do, then Heather comes up to him and smiles: “You’re in my group. Come on.”

He easily follows her as she walks towards two other girls. She introduces them both. First she points to a Latina girl with a high ponytail. “This is Sofia, she’s the other base. Look to her for clues.”

Steve nods and shakes Sofia’s hand. He doesn’t have any classes with her, because he thinks she’s a junior. But he has seen her around in Nancy’s AP Honor courses when they were still dating.

“And this is Chrissy, our flyer,” Heather introduces a red hair shy looking girl.

“Hi,” she greets.

“Hello,” Steve replies with a smile he hopes is reassuring. He’s pretty sure the girl is a sophomore, who knows him only by reputation. He doesn’t want to scare her.

After the introductions, Steve is positioned into the starting position. They go through the entire routine at a snail’s pace to ensure Steve can follow along. Today they’re just focusing on being at the right place, tomorrow they’re primarily running through stunts and he’s told that the arm movements will come later.

Like Friday, Steve is having a blast. Sofia is super smart and hilarious. She makes all sorts of jokes under her breath that have all of them struggling not to crack up under the harsh gaze of coach Miller.

Chrissy is also nice and very caring and enthusiastic when she gets out of her shell a little. The only thing is how tiny she is. Steve feels like he’ll break her ankle if he holds her too tightly.

The atmosphere is also so much more fun. Coach Miller is strict much like the basketball coach is, but she still yells out encouragements too. And between the cheerleaders themselves, they’re constantly calling out: “Well done!” or “Oh my god, that was so good!”

If anyone in the basketball team were to do that, they would’ve gotten weird looks and called a fag or something. Steve doesn’t miss it, but he’s sad that all of them are told not to even encourage each other. The most they are allowed is a slap on the back. It doesn’t seem fair.

But he alone can’t change anything about that, so he finds himself in the limbo of smiling when he gets a compliment, but being too awkward to say anything himself as practice goes on.

At they end they all do their cooling down together. Molly takes a place close to Steve and grills him the entire time about how confident he is he can get it before the competition. Steve assures her that he will, though he adds that he doesn’t know if he can keep smiling. “I don’t even know how you all do that,” he tells her.

Molly laughs at that and answers: “Oh, Steve, you are such a guy, you know.”

“What?” he asks, a bit confused and unsure what could have gotten that response.

“Come back to me when you walked a day in heels,” she says instead of answering. “We’re used to smiling through the pain.”

Steve privately thinks that doesn’t sound very healthy, but he keeps his mouth shut, unsure he wants to have this discussion.

They disperse to the changing rooms. Steve contemplates going home sweaty again, but he’s in just his shorts now and it’s still way too cold outside for that. Plus, the basketball team is still going, so he hurries through his shower, hoping he’ll be done, before they get there.

However, they’re done quicker with their punishment laps than Steve expected. So, he’s in the middle of pulling his shirt on when they flood into the changing room.

For a second both Steve and the team freeze, staring at each other in some sort of stand off. Then play is pressed again and Steve is suddenly face to face with Billy, who spits: “What, hanging out with the freaks and little girls wasn’t enough for you, Harrington?”

Steve takes a deep breath, trying not to let it get to him. He replies: “I’m just helping out, Hargrove, you know, doing something nice? Ever heard of the word nice? Or did you skip that lesson in kindergarten?”

Billy bristles and steps forwards, pushing Steve back onto the bench. He gets right up into Steve’s face, who is hit in the face with the stench of teenage boy sweat. He wrinkles his nose, which is the wrong thing to do, because he is grabbed by the front of his shirt and Billy spits: “Those girls can’t help you here. I’m not done with you.”

“Well, I am done with you,” Steve answers coolly, reaching for his bag. He has tried fighting Billy before, that didn’t work out. Now he just hopes he can flee. Let him be a coward, it’s not like anyone here still respects him.

Anger flares up in Billy’s face again and he reels back, probably to hit Steve. However, he is still holding Steve’s shirt, but Steve never managed to put it on properly. So, before the hit lands, he slithers out of it and onto the floor, rolling away and snatching bag as he shoulders his way through the rest of the team, who are luckily too stunned to stop him as he breaks free.

In the hallway, he runs into Lisa, who looks at him in surprise. He looks downs, realizing he’s shirtless and gives her an awkward smile. “Uh, this is intentional?” he says.

“Harrington!” they hear Billy bellow from the changing room and Steve starts power walking away from the changing room, pulling Lisa with him and putting his sweaty shirt on again.

“Are you okay?” Lisa asks with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Steve smiles at her. “Just going to change at home next time.”

“For what it’s worth, I think it really sucks that they’re treating you like that over this,” Lisa tells him genuinely.

“I get it,” Steve shrugs. “I mean, it’s not exactly conventional, you know. Everyone probably thinks it’s a little weird. Hell, I don’t even know why I offered Friday.”

“Still, you’re just doing something nice,” Lisa argues, a small frown on her forehead. She isn’t the fighting type, but she does get frustrated.

“Don’t think they care,” Steve laughs. “They already didn’t like me before this either. They just have something else to hold against me now.”

Lisa’s frown deepens, but she doesn’t say anything.

Steve honestly doesn’t feel like talking about it, so he changes the subject by asking: “You have a car, or want a ride home?”

“I mean, if you’re sure,” Lisa says.

“Of course,” Steve says. “It’s no trouble. And you can tell me more about the terms on the way. I have no clue what coach Miller is telling us 90% of the time.”

That makes Lisa laugh and they set off towards the parking lot together. Luckily, Billy doesn’t try anything with Lisa nearby. Steve tries not to question it too much. He’s tired of trying to figure out what Billy is thinking.

#rr writing #cheerleader steve harrington au #stranger things #steve harrington #chrissy cunningham #steddie #robin buckley x chrissy cunningham #buckingham #st post season 2 #the party stranger things #the party #good babysitter steve #OCs #billy hargrove #tw: bullying #tw: f slur #tw: period typical sexism #tw: period typical homophobia #tw: internalized homophobia #tw: child neglect

[house-afire]

Old Chums (Stede/Nigel)

Prompt: 100 words of "we're not gay, we're sailors"

Nigel had seldom been so pleased to see someone. The long journey to the Caribbean had looked to be intolerably boring—this downright crawl across the ocean was not how he’d hoped to celebrate leaving school. But Father had insisted on seeing what England had made of him before he wrapped himself in its colors for good, so here he was, in the middle of blasted nowhere. Milling about at sea in his private life before he’d be strongarmed into doing it all his life. And there was very little chance of fun on this stodgy ship—

Or so he’d thought, until he’d seen Stede.

“Little Baby Bonnet, all grown up!” Nigel said, clasping him by the shoulders. “I honestly never thought about you existing outside of our dear old school.”

“Was it dear?” Stede said, squirming under his hands, soft and shaky as a pudding, bless him. “Can’t say I’ve given it any thought either, since I left. I finished up—”

“Oh, were you in England too? I’m surprised we didn’t run into each other before now.” Nigel patted himself on the chest. “I was at Eton.”

“Harrow,” Stede said, with another of those appealing wriggles. This time it slipped him out from under Nigel’s hand—clever little fish.

Nigel decided to be magnanimous. “Well, that’s nearly as good. You’re headed home, then?”

Stede nodded. He looked a bit miserable about it, poor fellow. But then Stede just tended to look like that, didn’t he? Like a little stomped-on rose, all crumpled and red-faced and dew-damped, their dear Baby Bonnet. Nigel had decided early on that he couldn’t possibly be as unhappy as he looked, because only an absolute spoilsport would properly sulk through all their romps and fun.

Actually, aside from the rather pathetic cast of his features, Stede looked … good. He had quite unexpectedly acquired some definition about his jaw and shoulders, and his mouth had shed some of its poutiness. The wind ruffled that Goldilocks hair of his.

Nigel was vaguely aware that one didn’t technically consider such things, not when it came to a friendly handy—it was obviously very far afield from, say, choosing a wife. You just wanted a chum. Had nothing to do with proper intercourse. More like how you couldn’t tickle yourself. It was just useful to have somebody else involved.

He was probably only thinking of Stede that way because Baby Bonnet had always been a bit of a girl. They’d forced him into one of the matron’s dresses once and told him he looked almost pretty. So there you were, Nigel thought, relieved. They had all said that much.

“Let’s go see the stores,” Nigel said, putting an arm around Stede’s shoulders and steering him belowdecks.

Stede stumbled as he followed along. “And, ah, why should we want to do that?”

“Like the games shed, you know. Lots of clutter to duck behind.”

“Duck behind for what?”

Oh, playing hard to get, was he? If he thought Nigel was going to turn foolish over him, like one of those soppy, soft-handed boys who used to turn half their tuck over to the cricket captain and moon all about him, he would be sorely disappointed.

Then again, it was a long voyage. If he absolutely had to give Stede a fruit tart and a silly compliment about his lovely hair to make him behave like a proper pal, he could probably be talked into it. It would be entirely understandable if Nigel chose to indulge him like that, just to make it all go over without any fuss.

Only a real problem if you did it on land, when there were plenty of women to be had. Then you were just a deviant. At sea, one simply made compromises because one was healthy and red-blooded.

“Ah, here we are,” Nigel announced. He swung the door open and had a look around for any sailors already making use of the place. None at all. What a lucky day it was turning out to be.

Stede let Nigel drag him in and close the door behind them, but he still had an endearingly baffled look on his face. Maybe he truly didn’t know. God, he really was a babe in the woods, wasn’t he? Nigel decided to clarify things by pushing Stede back against the door and doing his best to get Stede’s breeches off him.

“Mmf!” Stede protested against Nigel’s mouth, which had wound up overlapping a bit with his.

“Oh, come on, Stede,” Nigel said, pulling back because one didn’t kiss during this sort of thing. They were both gentlemen. “There’s nothing else to do on this unbelievably dull boat. And anything goes when one’s at sea, you know that.”

“I do?” Stede’s voice trembled like a maiden’s, but—in a move that made something inside Nigel flash bright, like the sun had hit upon it—he tugged his own breeches and drawers down and thrust forward into Nigel’s hand.

His cock was rosy and far more sizable than Nigel would ever have guessed. He wondered what it would be like—

No, he didn’t. He put that aside firmly. He was going to be an officer in His Majesty’s Navy, yes, but he was not going to be a sailor in that sense. He would get accustomed to whatever was convenient, but he was still going to have some decorum.

“Obviously,” Nigel said, stroking Stede’s prick and feeling it twitch in his hand. “We wouldn’t be doing this on land. Not unless you wanted to dress up like a girl again and pass yourself off as my wife.” He mashed their bodies close together, his burning cheek against Stede’s temple.

“I didn’t even—” Stede’s breath hitched. “I didn’t even want to dress up as a girl the first time!”

“Oh, it was all good fun. I did it for that panto, remember?”

It was foolish of Stede to pretend that the stage, or lack thereof, made that much of a difference. So what if he’d been shoved into that frock in the dark, by more than one set of hands? They’d all been high-spirited, and Stede had squeaked so marvelously back then that he’d made for wonderful entertainment. And Nigel remembered perfectly how Stede had blushed when they’d all told him he was pretty, and how well he’d curtseyed when they’d finally talked him into it.

He had thought of it a lot over the last few years, really.

“Be a good chap,” Nigel said into Stede’s ear, “and shoot off in a hurry. I’m more than ready for my turn.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t surprise people if you want them to be ready,” Stede said, with a very Stede-ish blend of querulousness and heat, as if Nigel could possibly be cowed by him. He honestly was very fond of Stede. Always had been. He suspected Stede was fond of him as well—Stede had always watched him, back at school, as if Nigel’s every move had needed to be charted.

Then again, he had watched all their circle of school chums that way. Little harlot.

But all those fellows were far away, and even if they’d been aboard, Nigel wouldn’t have minded sharing Stede with them. An Eton man was generous. Anyway, he was sure they’d understand that Stede would always prefer him.

“I think this trip is going to turn out to be quite bearable in the end,” Nigel said, pleased.

Stede threw his head back until his skull cracked against the door, sinking his teeth into his lower lip as his hips juddered in helpless little spasms.

Not on land, Nigel reminded himself, even as he further reminded himself that obviously he needed no reminding. Pretty as Baby Bonnet is, there will be prettier women, of course.

But would any of them be wrung out like this, shaking, their spend slicking Nigel’s hand? Would any of them ever be so gloriously flushed, so sweet and so petulant? Would they tug at his cock with this look of utmost concentration, like they were trying to understand some sophisticated machinery? Yes, of course they would. Of course they would have to be all those things and better, and whatever they were not, he wouldn’t want. This was a matter of opportunity. He was clear on that.

And if he closed his eyes and imagined Stede in a turquoise silk gown, approved as Mrs. Badminton by popular delusion, well—it was only because he had no proper girl in mind. And might not for some time.

Very abruptly, he felt a sudden, awful gratitude at being pushed into the Navy. What a lot of long voyages there would be, so unavoidably.

“It’s so good,” Nigel said afterwards, panting into Stede’s almond-scented hair, “to have friends. Old friends. Isn’t it?”

“I suppose it must be,” Stede said.

#nigel badminton #stede bonnet #stede/nigel #tw: dubcon #tw: bullying #(past) #tw: internalized homophobia

[veil-over-miitopia]

Breaking Down the Main Problems of Neksdor, And How I Would Go Around Fixing Them

Alright; It’s Monday evening. I have Touhou OST playing on one tab, and the Miitopia wiki on the other. Let’s rock.

NEKSDOR, the desert kingdom without a monarchy present and possessing a loose pun for a name. When compared to the more lively neighboring kingdom of Greenhorne, you can tell that the difference between them is like night and day, and, unfortunately, the list of contrasts are not stacking up in the favor of Neksdor-

Before we start with the rant, I wanna state that I get that second stages in Nintendo games usually tend to be much weaker than the first, and that they are almost always desert-themed, but here’s where the problems start to take root; these levels also bring in new mechanics and challenges in order to make them fun and engaging enough for the player, and can you name anything new that Neksdor brought to the table that helps it differentiate itself from Greenhorne? You’re right! Almost nothing!

And, besides, if it isn’t the lack of freshly baked goods, then it’s a whole other slew of issues that are weighing Neksdor’s potential down; the story is half-baked, the area map is bland even for a desert region (you know you’ve messed up when Genshin did better), the NPCs serve little to no purpose, and the inner workings of this supposed kingdom make absolutely no sense. All that, and I still haven’t touched upon the blatant bias against this evidently-Arab based kingdom’s residents. The general opinion the fandom has towards Neksdor is that it is the weakest of the four areas present within Disc 1 of the game, and I couldn’t help but agree.

So how would I, your everyday Nintendo fanbrat with way too much free time on her hands, would fare against a Megacorporation when it comes to writing a fictional desert kingdom? Would I somehow make it feel like the breath of fresh air it deserved to be? Or will I fall into the same orientalist shit-hole Nintendo found themselves in?

I guess there is only one way to find out!

-

Before we begin, I need to state right off the bat that I am not Egyptian, so, unfortunately, I will be very, very inaccurate on a lot of things. Due to my lack of knowledge on the matter, I will be accepting of any and all constructive criticisms heading my way.

To make this easier for both myself and the readers, I will be slicing this post into a handful of segments. That way, I can detail each individual issue present while also giving ya’ll the freedom to scroll down to the issue that has weighed on your mind as well and see how I would handle it.

Lastly, I would also appreciate it if you guys told me how you would handle the Kingdom of Neksdor if it was in your hands; you know what they say, the more the merrier!

Now, let us begin with the big one;

1. The Problem with its Inspiration

Starting off strong here, aren’t we?

First, we have to look at Greenhorne for a quick moment; it is evidently more European-themed, first off, but you cannot exactly pinpoint the exact country it is supposed to be based on, if any. This is what makes GH more mystical and available to the players; it is ambiguous enough that they are free to make up their own headcanons and inspirations, and even make an original kingdom for themselves. I, myself, have decided that Greenhorne was Greek in origin- not really 100% accurate, but I am happy with how it turned out.

In that case, then what about Neksdor? You see, it really doesn’t take a genius to see that its inspiration is Ancient Egypt- and a very, very stereotypical version of it for that matter. Right off the bat, the criticism starts to construct itself before our very eyes; the lack of ambiguity mixed with the linear and honestly terrible storyline (which I will get to later on) makes the region boring and not open enough for anything to be left to our imagination.

It is rigid, yet also hollow. There’s so much yet so little going on for it as a level, and that is not mentioning how what we are able to see constitutes as a spit on the face of those who notice the blatant orientalism going on. How are we going to ever fix this disaster from the get-go, I wonder?

The answer? Nuke it all. Give Neksdor a fresh start, much like how Greenhorne and Realm of the Fey were created out of nothingness.

Now, in order to recreate Neksdor from scratch, we have to be a little more original; create new customs for it, a more fleshed out ruling system, and even rehashing the environment- all while leaving just enough for the imagination of the player and without abandoning the Arab-esque inspiration for it (this is not, and I repeat, NOT, encouraging the idea of putting every SWANA/MENA country in a blender, mind you; the general idea is to get creative over here, not, ahem, racist). I will be mostly focusing on the environment here, for I will be discussing the other two issues later down the line.

First thing’s first, we can still use the idea of pyramids as a resting place for the dead without exactly referencing the ancient kingdom, as it was also custom in other areas like Ancient Mesopotamia AND Mesoamerica (the more you know). We’ll be keeping this area for now, but the feel of it is subject to change, as Pyramids were usually a place of eternal rest for the deceased royals of old and not some spooky treasure trove full of riches and secrets. This will give this final dungeon a more serious vibe (as if the DL stealing your party members didn’t already do the job), as not only are you saving the living, but you’re also in the company of the long-deceased who wish to end this nightmare once and for all.

We start off our quest to fix a broken level with the furthest side of the map, right next to the Realm of the Fey; you see, most Arab countries had a lot more flora back then, and, even then, forests are no stranger to the modern Arab world; they’re a lot more plentiful than what the media suggests. To state that every Arab country out there has little to no plant-life save for oases is flat-out ignorant. What I am suggesting here is that, instead of a repetition of the sandy route we took when we entered Neksdor, we should have another map that serves as a well-earned good-bye from the desert kingdom; one that is full of greenery and lush trees. Fitting for a border between this level and the next (much like the Arid Frontier in GH), no?

I’d also wager that even the Wetland Bay deserves a bit of polish, because, to me, it appears like some river delta full of minerals that are suitable for farms. With the existence of the caverns below, I’d also imply that this river was much larger and deeper back then before it dried up for whatever reason; leaving behind remnants of the sea life that once thrived there long ago and have been re-awoken from their eternal slumber by the Dark Lord.

These suggested changes would provide more lore in regards to the spirits that exist within Miitopia and more mysticism surrounding Neksdor. We had GH’s internal politics and RotF’s knowledge of the mystical arts, so Neksdor should be the area that provides the most history out of the three. Expanding the map to be on the same level as Greenhorne’s and Realm of the Fey’s was another reason behind these plans.

I am not sure on whether I should replace the hieroglyph enemies or not- mainly because they are tied to a boss redesign I have been considering for quite some time now. Perhaps they could be given a rename and a bigger role in the story tied to said history of Neksdor and Miitopia as a whole, but I am also more than open to suggestions for when it comes to these lil’ buggers.

One last detail that needs to be addressed is the existence of the Minotaur in the caverns. Call me crazy, but this brings the Greek invasion of Egypt to mind, and, honestly, this is quite the stroke of genius on the developers’ part, so I will give them that. Believe it or not, there are Greco-Roman ruins littered across several Arab countries, and my country, Jordan, is almost full of them. In that case, I’ll keep the Minotaur, as it also serves its purpose of expanding upon Neksdor’s history.

2. The NPCs

Ah, shit.

My main gripe with the Neksdor NPCs is a really simple one- an issue that really doesn’t need much explanation, and that is that the majority of them are portrayed as the negative counterparts to the more European-based Greenhornite NPCs. They’re either “darker contrasts”, or just flat-out jerks- even without having to compare them to their nicer counterparts.

Aside from the Dancing Guide (who has her own set of issues), Rambling Old Man and Worried Explorer, the comparisons are as clear as sunlight; the Shady Merchant Father is encouraging his daughter’s bad behavior while the Worried Mother is doing her best to teach her son about politeness, the prickly couple are in need of a divorce- especially when compared to the love-struck Lovey-Dovey Couple, and the Desert Celebrity...honestly, I’ll give her a pass- her sass shines through even in the letters she sends us. She and the worried mayor need to be besties, I swear.

So, this leaves us with five NPCs total; the Dancing Guide, the Shady Salespeople, and the Prickly Pair (prickly....prickly like cacti-? Oh my goodness).

I will begin with the shady merchants- yeah, I do love their father-daughter dynamic, and, if you do look closely, you’ll notice that the father’s rescue animation is that of the Kind personality, which adds in a whole new level of depth to his character. So, if I love these roles so much, then what’s my big problem with them?

You see, it’s not much an issue with them as their own characters, but more of an issue with most stories that feature fictional Arab-esque countries in general; from Aladdin to even Cookie Run’s Yogurca, you are bound to find tropes that coincide with one another, and Miitopia is no stranger to that, alas. One of the tropes that are prevalent in these kinds of stories is, you guessed it, the “shady snake oil merchant”, who only exists to showcase how dangerous this new and strange world is to our “valiant and heroic (and probably white)“ heroes- one where not even the CITIZENS can be trusted, oh woe is us! Yeah...let’s shuck that shit out of the window.

So, without abandoning their eccentricity, shady nature, and familial bond, I’ll instead turn them into magicians or even trickster ironworkers; them being magicians would reflect the royal "clerics” that served the Pharaoh back then and attempted to one-up the prophet Moses’ miracles, and ironworkers would justify the existence of a weapons shop in-universe and why the teammates would bring back bananas instead of what they asked for (they more or less decided to do a little trolling when delivering the goods to the inn).

Despite the trope now being lifted, morality-wise, they’re still not good people; if they’re magicians, then they would boast about their own magic, and they would not be above scamming you if they were ironworkers. These job suggestions are not the best replacements, I’ll have to admit, but they’ll do for now.

Now unto the Prickly Couple- frankly speaking, they just needed more time in the oven. They’ll still bicker like the old couple they are, yes, but maybe a little more depth was what they needed all along. Like, come on, we don’t need another couple in media who do nothing but hate one another without any reason for even staying in the first place- it is fucking exhausting, even without the looming issue of racial stereotypes above us.

To showcase a quick example of what I had in mind, instead of the wife bickering even when her husband’s face was stolen, she’d probably break down mid-argument (i.e her way of trying to “keep things under control”) and get quieter. When the hero speaks to her again, she’ll be silent- save for a soft apology escaping her.

Upon rescuing her husband, she’ll probably be mad- but this time it’s over his safety. He’d be pissed over her still screaming at first, but, as the conversation goes on, the two will calm down. Yes, they have their issues- but what kind of marriage that exists that doesn’t? That doesn’t mean they have to hate each other. After Neksdor is saved, the two will still bicker, but over the more mundane things- with the wife ending the argument with a swift “Your energy will end your life the same way it started our marriage” with a nostalgic smile on her face (I am aromantic and autistic af- so idk if this came off as lovey or not).

Finally, unto the Dancing Guide- again, all she needed was a little more time. After saving her face, we can have her stretch her back and gleefully state how energy-taxing dancing can be, as it is an art form first and foremost. In spite of the pain, she still dances in order to show newcomers the beauty of Neksdor’s rich culture and welcome them to this vast and marvelous kingdom. I’d also rework her clothes a little in order for her to be a little more accurate to the belly dancers of today, and maybe have her visit the travelers’ hub every now and then.

Yes, Nilou from Genshin is one of my favorite characters, how can you tell?

3. The Monarchy- or Lack Thereof

(TW: Punishment directed towards kids, overly-strict parenting, internalized homophobia/transphobia, implications of collectivism and abuse)

This section will be split into two smaller parts; one to fill in the literal power void in Neksdor, and the other existing to flesh out our lil’ asshat Prince that we’re all familiar with.

Man oh man, do I have a lot to say about this one. In stories like these, it isn’t uncommon to see Arab-coded royals to be portrayed as generally incompetent or even malicious, especially when compared to the more Western-based monarchy - often portrayed as the good guys and good judges of character -.

I know, art reflects life, and most monarchies tend not to do jack shit for their countries- but, without the threat of me getting arrested creeping up outta nowhere, it’s the aforementioned comparison that gets to me. Let us be honest here; monarchs in general just fucking suck, not just the middle eastern ones we see on TV and video games. Wanna know why we all celebrated the Queen’s death a while ago? Come on, take a fucking guess, hon.

So to make sure whatever royalty that exists there still has this air of whimsical parody that the GH royal family possessed while also not resorting to orientalist themes, we have to establish the only known member of the royal family sans the prince- the Queen of Neksdor.

Honestly, if we’re gonna go with the route of making these roles contrast with one another, I can see that the queen is actually more competent than the king. The first scene where we meet here, we witness her giving a bunch of guards (those who were supposed to accompany the prince) a tongue lashing- reminding them of the evil threat that is imminent, and that they should be lucky that her son arrived safe and sound.

Not all is fun and games, however- I love girlbosses as much as the person next to me, but what I love even more is character depth. You see, she is quite uptight and is doing her best to make sure her kingdom is well-prepared against the Dark Lord’s fiends, so she is quite strict towards everyone- including her own son. Think Yellow Diamond from SU.

Right off the bat, the similarities between the Queen of Neksdor and the King of Greenhorne become visible; they appear to want nothing but the best for their children, but their methods and attitudes cause nothing but harm for their only known families. The king was more passive and nonchalant towards his daughter’s conflicting emotions of sorrow, nostalgia and even rage, whilst the queen promises to ground her son for making himself out to be an incompetent fool in front of their neighbors AND for unleashing a powerful jinni upon their people. As we chase down the genie, we see that she has locked the prince inside his room until she could cool her jets.

Here, we start to diverge towards the prince’s characterization and his goals. We see that he loves the princess, yes, but he loves his mother moreso and sees her as a guardian figure who is able to rescue him from the Dark Lord. The combined desires to marry the princess and appeasing his mother weighed on him so much that he was willing to take any opportunity to achieve either - or both - of these goals even if said chance (i.e jackass genie) appeared too good to be true. Aside from these two traits, we weren’t given much else...aside from his entitlement and apparent delusion of grandiose, but that is beside the point.

So how are we going to place these two puzzle pieces together in order for us to get the clearer picture? This next section...is going to be a lot heavier than I expected, so if the aforementioned list of TWs are too much, please skip this part and move on to the next or even close this post’s tab. I am a Miitopia fan and aspiring writer, yes, but I also know that not everyone is a-ok with such heavy themes. Just be safe, my fellow simple travelers; your comfort is of higher priority than a simple theory post.

We first dissect the reason as to why he wants this marriage so badly- he might just be attracted to the princess, yes, but he also laments on how is he ever going to explain all this to his mother; implying that he is afraid of her wrath or just generally disappointing her. It is obvious that the prince is not above lying to anyone, whether it is towards us or his supposed-to-be in-laws, but to his mom? He appears to be way too scared to even think about that, as if she is able to see right through his usual deceits or is just afraid of making her sad.

How this ties to my suggested characterization of the queen is a lot more messed up than how I initially planned it to be. The core cause behind the prince’s obsession with marriage is that he is afraid of his mother. He loves her, but he’s also terrified of her- of disappointing her, of lowering his status in her eyes. He is an asshole towards everyone, but, as they say, the apple does not fall far from the tree- and while the queen may not be a liar, per se, her son may have picked up that trait under her care in order to dampen the blow of her anger.

He may only want the perfect wedding in his mother’s eyes, but...does he really want the princess? Is he in love with her as her own person? Or is he just enamored with the idea of a picture-perfect royal marriage?

Once darkness falls upon Neksdor and the queen is out guarding the pyramid with the guards, we’ll finally be able to enter the prince’s room within the royal palace. There, we see that the prince is in a sad, broken state on his bed; not wanting to talk to the traveler and even asking them if they’ve come here to wreck any more of his possessions. No matter how respond, he’s not gonna do much, for he believes he’s already caused enough trouble as is.

As we explore the room, we manage to find a stack of perfectly-sealed wedding invitations, a really old picture of the princess, an image of him and his mother, and...a bunch of old shoujo comics, with the main protagonist being highlighted and the word “me!!” written next to her as she is in a loving embrace with her own beloved prince; I’ll leave the implications of this to the viewer, because it is by selecting this item that we finally warrant an actual reaction from the prince.

As we unlock more dialogue options, he drops several sentences alluding to lingering self-esteem issues and questions about his identity; is he really ready to inherit the throne after his mother? Will he ever escape her eyes? Or will he see them in the masses of his own people? Just before we leave, he parts with us with one of the last keys needed to enter the pyramid and his own apology- on how badly he treated you and your last party -. He then states that he cannot bear his face to anyone- not to the royal family of Greenhorne, and not even to his mom. He wishes for you the best of luck on your adventure as you leave the room, and, once you look back, you see that he’s locked the doors yet again.

After saving the faces all over Neksdor, we are finally able to actually enter the pyramid. There, we meet the queen, who urges us that this is no place to fool around...right before a boss fight get activated, and we show her that we’re more than able to defeat the evil force threatening the kingdom.

Once we have proven ourselves to be hardened warriors capable of smiting the foe awaiting us at the top of the pyramid, she gives us the pass to go further- heck, she even accompanies us as an additional party member much like the fab fairies, with her abilities being those of the Princess (or Vampire, for beautiful foreshadowing) job.

As we venture deeper into the pyramid, the queen explains the relations Neksdor has with both its neighboring nations, and how her royal family is responsible not just for keeping political relations afloat and stable, but also making sure incidents like the Dark Lord’s attack don’t ever occur. She gives us the excuse that she’s only harsh to her prince so he could harden himself and learn that the world is a cruel place-

This is when the hero interrupts her. Yes, there are trials and tribulations awaiting her son, but it’s not all gloom and doom out there. She tries to state that it isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, either, but she’s then given this revelation on a silver platter:

If the world really is as horrible as she sees it, then why does she bother? Why the hell is she even trying in the first place? What’s stopping her from giving up?

If nothing but pain and horror awaits for him, then what’s going to help him push forwards? What is helping you, oh Queen of Neksdor?

The story of the prince and his mother not only is a glimpse at the issue of collectivism and family honor that, unfortunately, is still plaguing Arab homes to this day, but it could be a message to both kids and parents alike-

Kiddos, if you are in a restrictive, harmful and unfair environment, please do not be afraid to reach out and call for help- there are people who are more than willing to assist you, and the world is a kinder place than what we would assume.

Parents, even if you mean well, just note that actions speak louder than words, and the gate for an apology is closing with each passing day; your children will only remember how you’ve shattered their ambitions time and time again because you apparently hated them, and how nothing they wanted would ever appease you.

4. The Story is Half-Baked

Before I start, yes, the story present in GH is as tropey as it gets- it is whatever you get from a stock fairytale, that I admit, but, despite the corniness present, it also left us with a lot of open doors- questions that are only up to us to answer. As an example, why was there supposed to be a wedding between the two future monarchs of the two kingdoms? What exactly happened between the royal trio while we went out to get the calming fruit? Why was the CF so necessary to break up the fight?

With Neksdor, on the other hand, what we saw was what we got; a greedy genie and...that is really all. No open questions, no branched out storylines, no nothing. We’ve been dealt with what we got; nothing but sand on a plate and boiling vegetable oil in a wine glass. I am no Gordon Ramsay, mind you, but I think we all deserved a better meal than that.

So, combined with every one of the points above, I guess we can finally redirect our attention and ire towards the big boi himself, the Genie.

The genie is...missed potential. Not just for his characterization, but also the worldbuilding of Miitopia, the species that exist, his relationship with the other spirits that we know of, and how his powers actually work. This time, we will take some real-world inspiration and look at the most primordial form of genies we can get; the jinni.

When thinking about Jinni helping humans out, the story of Prophet Solomon (PBUH) - aka the King Solomon - comes to mind, as he had the ability to speak with animals and jinni, as well as being able to have demons and div under his control. Upon his death, he was still giving off the illusion of him standing up thanks to his staff keeping balance; an illusion that even tricked jinni back then - for they, too, are unaware of “Al-ghaib”/The Unseen -. Once his cane gave in thanks to a small creature, the truth of his death was finally visible to them.

So, where can we head with this knowledge? Perhaps the genie in-game had a sort of connection to the royal family of Neksdor back in the day, and perhaps attempted to deceive said royalty on occasion (not only reflecting the tale of Solomon and the Ifrit, but their general trickster natures as a whole). Ultimately, he might have been a jolly ol’ uncle figure to the ancient Neksdorian family, who also offered the people knowledge of the domain of magic.

I’d also wager that the genie possessed mastery of dark arts that are synonymous with the Dark Lord/Curse, as the cloud he resides on shares a similar color to that of the curse/Darker Lord. In the world of Miitopia, we see elemental, light, and dark magic utilized by a variety of jobs available to us, and the genie is no stranger to them, evidently, as he is able to teleport and use the powers of the wind to his aid in-canon. Jinni are so powerful it is stupid, so one can only imagine the genie at his full potential.

Dark powers coming from creatures who are normally invisible to the human eye...perhaps, the Dark Curse, in their human form, sought out a way to get rid of the face that they so despised- any way, even if it meant seeking out knowledge from the unknown.

Yes, it’s true; people can commune with demons and djinn, but not only is that considered a great form of sin, but even the methods of summoning one are outright blasphemous, as it all indicates that you have abandoned your faith in God and have resorted to disbelief. By ridding themselves of the face they hated so much by using otherworldly arts, they have barred themselves from the gates of Heaven, and were left a withering husk of the mii they once were.

Upon learning that the royal genie was suspected of creating a cursed soul and letting it run loose, he would be condemned by the Great Sage and be eternally trapped within this lamp- just like how he was summoned by using his name, so shall his name be the glue that binds him to this accursed object for all time.

Before we skip to the modern days, I have to mention one of the outing events that we are able to select, as it is crucial for setting up the genie’s goals and justifying his rage towards the kingdom. In the museum, the dialogue exchanged between two party members reveals to us that the artwork depicting the genie being sealed into his lamp was painted over 100 years ago, but the people “didn’t appreciate it at the time”.

The question of the Great Sage’s actual age being placed aside for now, 100 years is enough for the whole world to turn upside-down, and that’s not even thinking about the implication that it must have been even longer, considering how the painting wasn’t appreciated during the time period it was created in.

Imagine being trapped in this tiny artifact for who knows how long, only to be released over a CENTURY later by the descendant of the family who you considered your own- a descendant who doesn’t even know your name. Of course you would be mad- beyond livid, even; not only has history erased your existence in its entirety, but everyone you knew and loved were just...gone. Deader than the autumn leaves he was familiar with that are so full of melancholy.

Just by looking at this little twerp - a parody of the great monarchs he once served -, he knew that this kingdom was not worthy of all the achievements of their predecessors. He laughs - a pathetic attempt at blocking out the surrealism of all that is around him from making him howl from horror and sorrow -, and immediately talks the prince down; telling him that he and the rest of his pathetic kin have no idea of what’s coming for them, and that it is time for him to retrieve what is rightfully his...

#// no beta read or any other draft; we die like the majority of my OCs. #// THIS TOOK ME ALMOST 2 WEEKS (OR MORE- I CANNOT REMEMBER) #// I AINT PROOFREADING SHIT #// anyway. in my eyes; transfemme prince hours babey #// or gay. or both depending on your own interpretations! #Miitopia #Miitopia Neksdor #Neksdor #Prince from a Nearby Land #Prince of a Nearby Land #Rants; #Rambling; #TW: Child Abuse #TW: Internalized Homophobia #TW: Internalized Transphobia #TW: Mentions of Collectivism #Miitopia Genie #Genie Miitopia #Rewrites; #<- this is a tag now

[mustangs-flames]

Oh now I have to know. "mark accidentally outs himself". Spill the tea, I gotta know

Thatcher essentially does a bit of 'dad-teasing', making a comment on Mark sneaking out at night and Mark kind of reacts a little bit too strongly to the the joking suggestion that he has a girlfriend. Thatcher realises he's made a bit of misstep with a poorly timed joke and says something along the lines of 'or a boyfriend - because that's okay too, you know' and Mark's brain just kind of flatlines because there's no way someone just said that it's absolutely fine for him to be gay. This poor kid is so convinced that being gay is bad because of how he was brought up that he just can't fathom how casual Thatcher is with the whole thing. He needs a hug, I think

#hail true body au #mustang answers! #htb mark #htb thatcher #thatcher feels really bad about putting mark in a position where he was outed like that - a real 'i've put my foot in my mouth' moment fr #it's fine though - if anything it helps mark come to terms with his sexuality a hell of a lot more #he stops hating himself for it #and begins to realise that a lot of the things he hates about himself were just things his grandparents told him he should hate #it begins the healing process and helps mark redefine his connection with his faith #so yeah - an awkward coming out moment is worth it in the end lmao #tw: internalized homophobia #mark needs a hug fr

[omvimo]

Honestly, I’m so happy with all this pro wlw stuff. Lumity, Nature Wives, Gretson, ect. When I first started realizing “hey women are hot” I struggled with bad internalized homophobia. And now I’m seeing a wide range of different people like me. I can see role models, and people to look up to.

I’m kinda trauma dumping here, but this why representation matters. Because through all these people I learned that it’s okay to be gay.

#representation matters people #its okay to be gay #Thank you wlw medias #tw: internalized homophobia #toh #lumity #empires smp #nature wives #aloto #gretson

[blackplaaague]

I'm suddenly realizing how dehumanizing the language I use for myself is.

I think I have a case of internalized homophobia.

(TW: Venting, intrusive thoughts, internalized homophobia, self-deprecating language, jokes about medical malpractice. If any of these things would leave you feeling less than great to read about, kindly do scroll on. I hope you have a good day. Take care of yourself.)

The words I use to describe myself just... don't sound right. I would never use them to describe another queer person, yet, I talk about myself this way all the time. I call myself an evolutionary failure, a mistake, a thing, and use incredibly grim metaphors to describe my dysphoria.

A lot of it is in a joking manner, or fandom-associated (y'all remember the cringetober drawing that wanted the Circus Baby claw to do their gender-affirming surgery?) but some of it is actually pretty dark. No one wants to hear their friend talking about how they'd do their own surgery with scissors, or how they feel like they're worthless, or a living flaw.

I've always been praised for my selflessness. I will uplift others, even at my own expense. This may not be a gift, though. It's my fatal flaw. The things I say to myself are, at times, horrible.

I truly believe I am less of a person for being who I am, and it's scary.

Between forcing sexual intrusive thoughts on myself because of my internalized aphobia, repeatedly writing romance so I can be seen as "normal" for forcing away my repulsion with it, joking about doing terrible things to my body because I can't accept it as my own...

I'm the problem. I'm the reason people think LGBTQIA+ people are crazy, aren't I?

I know I don't represent an entire community, but after being raised in an environment of hatred for basically my whole life, I've been slowly struggling to conquer my parents' hand-me-down homophobia. And I have been able to become a much more accepting person when it comes to identities I don't immediately understand. But myself? Understanding that repeatedly saying I was born in the wrong body, will not be loved, and am not important because I sit outside some predetermined norm? That's not okay. I'm only hurting myself.

So, do me a favor: if you see me using that kind of language on myself, whip out the spraybottle, like you would with a cat chewing a wire. And if you find yourself using this kind of language, you can totally talk to me about your feelings.

Love you platonically,

Ellis

#bp rambles #tw: homophobia #tw: internalized homophobia #tw: transphobia #tw: long post #intrusive thoughts #tw: intrusive thoughts #personal update #love you platonically #mental health #mental help #mental health awareness

[hyacinths-in-a-storm]

Rainy Days and Healing Breaths

Tyzula Week: Day 2 Vacation/Permanent

You can read it here on archive of our own as well

A/N: I'm late, but I had literally no motivation, and my family was over, so yeah. Anyways enjoy!

TW: Internalized Homophobia

The last time there had been a monsoon on Ember Island, there were still airbenders around. But now five years after the Hundred Year War ended, the skies were raining down on the island town with a vengeance.

Ty Lee and Azula were standing under the awning of the porch, at the royal beach house. They were both silent,

“The day after I get better.” Azula curses, her throat slightly raspy from her cold,

“I don’t suppose we can go for a swim?” Ty Lee jokes,

“Not unless you fancy drowning.” Azula spits, she had learned, mostly, how to control her anger, but on days like these it still found a way to root itself like an unsavory parasite. Ty Lee put a hand on her shoulder and Azula took a deep, calming breath.

“I suppose we could find something to do inside.” she seethed,

"That's the spirit, maybe we can even play Pai Sho." Ty Lee jokes, but Azula glowered in response,

"I'd rather take my chances with the ocean. If you really wanted to play Pai Sho, you should've brought Uncle."

"Is there something else you're mad about?" she asked noticing Azula’s change in mood,

"No, why would you ask that?" she asked, very clearly mad, Ty Lee stared at her, raising a single eyebrow,

"Let's just get changed first." Azula stated, and Ty Lee nodded in response, moving her hand to Azula’s back and Azula took this as a sign to take deep, calming breath,

“Yeah, let's do that.” she said, taking a breath, “We can find hundreds of things to do inside, right?”

Ty Lee nods and smiles brightly, before skipping inside. Azula followed with a small smile of her own, closing the door, wincing as the wind slammed it shut behind her. The Ember Island Beach House looked very different amidst a monsoon. Despite the fact it was the middle of the day the clouds blocked out any ray of sunshine, plunging the room into darkness. Ty Lee, graceful as ever, artfully navigated her way through the pitch-black room. Azula, not as graceful, bumped her hip against the sharp edge of a drawer. She hissed in pain,

“Azula? Are you ok?” Ty Lee called out,

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Just- hit my hip against the table. How do you see anything in this darkness?” Azula responded,

“I don’t, speaking of which we need to light a lantern. Do you know where the lanterns are?” Ty Lee asks,

“Somewhere in the back of the house.” Azula said, lightning punctuating her sentence, followed by the sound of thunder,

“Well that’s ominous.” she sighed, “Come on, let’s go find those lanterns.”

Ty Lee takes Azula’s hand, tugging her along. The storage room is in the very back, the only entrance was a plain unassuming door. The last time Azula had been in the storage room of the beach house, she was six-year-old, and had got locked in after a game of hide-and-seek went wrong. The memory of banging on the metal doors until her hand turned red still sent shudders down her spine. She made sure to prop the door open with a box, so there wouldn’t be a repeat, especially since there was no one else visiting the beach house for months.

Shoving the boxes aside and coughing at the displaced dust, she lit a small flame illuminating her surroundings, bathing the room in an eerie glow,

“How long has it been since someone cleaned this place?” Ty Lee asked, coughing,

“Never, I think if we look hard enough we might find a beach towel that belonged to Roku or something.”

“Roku? The previous avatar? I thought this house belonged to the royal family.”

“It does, but Firelord Sozin invited Avatar Roku to come with him every summer, like I invited you this summer.” Azula answered, blowing some dust off a crate, “Apparently they were very close before Roku was announced as the Avatar and was sent to travel across the world.”

“Don’t you think it’s ironic that the person who was supposed to maintain balance within the world was friends with the person who threw the world out of balance?” Ty Lee wondered,

“I guess, I wondered how Avatar-” thunder interrupted her again, Azula sighs heavily, “Come on, we can talk about Firelord Sozin and Avatar Roku after we find the lanterns.”

Ty Lee agreed and ducked behind the crates. Azula cracked the crate top open. Nothing but fabric. She moved the crate to the floor, and cracked the next crate open, again nothing but some metal tools. This was going to take longer than she had originally thought. Azula cleared the dust from her throat.

Hands grabbed her from behind and Azula screamed bracing her feet against the strewn crates sending her and her attacker careening to the ground. After the ringing in her head stops, she recognizes the sound of laughter,

Azula sat upright facing a cackling Ty Lee.

“Azula-” she pauses to catch her breath, “Azula it’s just me. I found the lanterns.”

“Agni Ty Lee! You scared the hell out of me, couldn’t you have called out to me or something?” I curse,

“I didn’t think you would react like this!” She barely managed to control her laughter.

Azula was about to say something, but she realized she was just a few inches from Ty Lee’s face. If she leaned any further their noses would touch, and a little more their lips would touch. She was tempted to do it, but a small voice in the back of her mind warned her otherwise.

Do you really think she would ever reciprocate your feelings? You’re disgusting, even thinking about your friend in this way. She would never like a girl, much less a pathetic creature like you. Father was right, there is something truly wrong with you.

“Azula?” she snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of Ty Lee’s voice,

“You ok? You zoned out for a second.” she asked, “Is everything alright? I didn’t hurt you during the fall did I?”

“No, no, it’s fine, I’m fine.” Azula said, pushing herself away from Ty Lee, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

“Are you sure? You look a bit sick, maybe your cold isn’t fully gone-” Ty Lee was interrupted by the sound of a crashing crate, Azula had kicked it over in her haste, and sent all the metal tools flying everywhere,

“I’m fine- damn it, I’m sorry Ty Lee, let’s just light the lanterns and get out of here.” She was breathing hard now, her heart stuck in her throat and she was unable to think properly. What was she thinking, trying to kiss her best friend? She had already messed up their friendship once, she couldn’t risk messing it up again. Ty Lee would never forgive her if she kissed her, never look at her the same if she knew what Azula really felt towards her. A hand came to touch her forehead.

“I think you need to lie down, you're burning up.”  Ty Lee noted, she looked worried now a crease forming between her brow. Azula ignored her by lighting up the lanterns and handing it to her,

“Let’s just get out of here. After all, we don't want to be locked in here, trust me it’s not fun.” she forced a laugh, Ty Lee didn’t look like she believed her but followed her out anyways.

“You know your therapist said that it was better to talk to people, rather than keep your emotions bottled up.” she said offhandedly, hanging up a lantern,

“If I told you, you would hate me.” Azula whispered, her back turned to Ty Lee, who heard this much to Azula’s dismay, and raised a single eyebrow,

“Try me.” she asked,

“Did Zuko or Sokka ever get back to you? Are they coming or not?” Azula asked, avoiding the topic,

“Azula, come on, you’re clearly upset about something, was it something I did? Something I said?”

“I’m fine! There’s nothing wrong.” Azula hissed,

“You keep saying that! You know I used to think you were a good liar-” Ty Lee was interrupted,

“Fine, do you want to know what’s wrong? What’s wrong is that I can’t stop thinking about you. What’s wrong is that back there in the storage closet I almost kissed you. What’s wrong is that even after all these years I’m still broken.” Azula shut her mouth as abruptly as she opened it. Ty Lee was staring at her with a look of confusion, and she was starting to regret ever opening her mouth,

“You wanted to kiss me?” she asked, almost quietly as if she wasn’t sure she heard properly, Azula had swallowed before answering,

“I know, I know you don’t have to tell me, it’s wrong and if you never want to talk to me again then- then I understand.” It took all her will-power to not let her emotion spill into her words,

“No- no that’s not what I meant. Spirits that’s not what I meant at all. I only meant-” Ty Lee took Azula’s hand, “Here let me show you instead.”

Ty Lee leaned closer, until their lips were touching, but just barely, light enough that Azula could pull away if she so chose to, but she didn’t instead leaning forward, closing her eyes as she did so. They stayed there for a long moment.

When they parted, Azula’s heart felt like it was doing one of Ty Lee’s complicated acrobatic routines.

“So you don’t hate me?” was all she could manage, Ty Lee laughed,

“No, of course not. In fact it’s the complete opposite.” she kissed her on the cheek, “I never said anything because I thought I might scare you off.”

“What does this mean for us then?” Azula asked,

“Whatever you want it to mean.” she answers with a shrug, “I was hoping it means that we start dating.”

“Yeah, that would be nice.” she said with a smile,

“You know, I almost thought this was already a date.” When Azula looked at her in confusion Ty Lee continued, “I mean you did invite me to your family’s private beach house alone.”

“I was being a good friend!” Azula sputtered indignantly, Ty Lee nodded sagely,

“Of course, of course, in any case my first verdict as your girlfriend is to force you to rest, I don’t think this storm is doing any favors for your cold.” she said,

“I’m not sick anymore! I just have a scratchy throat.” Azula protested,

“And a fever. Come on.” Ty Lee entwined her fingers with Azula’s, pressing a third kiss to her cheek, effectively shutting her up. She let Ty Lee drag her to bed, feeling something swelling in chest she hadn’t felt before. Hope.

#tyzula week 2023 #tyzula #azula #ty lee #ty lee x azula #azula x ty lee #Day 2: Vacation/Permanent #tw: internalized homophobia

[spreadssheets]

i stay writing steve harrington as a child of abuse and neglect i am obsessed with this tiny little man

"Robin," Steve whispers, teeth grit. "With all due respect, you don't know what it's like."

Robin gapes at him, her blue eyes wide with shock for a moment before they're narrowing with righteous indignation. 

"I don't know what it's like?" She asks, her voice going shrill. The way it always does when she's angry and upset. When Steve has done something to piss her off. "I don't know what it's like to be unloved?" 

Steve looks at her. He's tired. He's so fucking tired. 

"I'm living a LIE, Steve," she whisper shouts. "I don't even know if people love me for me." 

"I love you for you," Steve says simply. 

Robin blinks, something finally dawning on her. 

"Steve, do you think I don't love you?" She asks, suddenly soft around the edges, her anger giving way to sadness. "Do you think WE don't love you? All of the kids and–"

"I don't know," Steve answers. "I don't know, Robin," he says. He can't even look at her. His gaze is glued firmly to the floor beneath their feet. The ugly stained gray carpet of Family Video. 

"How do you not know?" She whispers softly, reaching out to touch his arms. 

Steve flinches away. He can't have her touching him if he wants to get this out. 

"I don't know that…" he swallows. "I don't know that anyone has ever loved me. I don't…" he takes a shaky breath. "God, I don't even know if I know what that would feel like." 

He hears Robin's breath catch, her hands reaching out for him again. 

This time he doesn't shy away from her touch. 

"I-i…" he stammers. "Robin I don't…even know what that feels like."

If at any point y'all wanna fight me in hell, i would not blame you.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction snippets #my fanfiction #my fics #steve harrington #robin buckley #tw: child abuse #tw: child neglect #tw: self hatred #tw: internalized homophobia

[evyisaks]

warning for angst because i’m a wh0re for angst.

tw: internalized homophobia 

Will comes out in the first two episodes of S5, before the time jump. During this time Mike and El also break up, they say that it’s mutual but everyone knows that it was El who broke up with Mike - no reason given to the others.

When Will comes out to Mike it’s after the break up and he decides to also tell Mike about his feelings for him. Listen, they just survived something that they had zero chance of surviving so it’s speak now or ever. When he comes out to Mike, he’s very clear that he’s not expecting anything and that he’s really just in shock that Mike hasn’t left and doesn’t think that he’s disgusting. The thing though is that Mike doesn’t leave or yell at him or tell him that they are no longer friends. He just places his hand on top of Will’s and says ‘You’ll always be my best friend. This doesn’t change anything and I’m sorry if I made you think or feel that you couldn’t tell me this.” Will thinks that he’s never going to to stop crying because he didn’t expect this. He prepared himself for the worst but the worst didn’t happen and he doesn’t know how to react to the best.

All he can let out is. “Thank you. It’s not your fault but thank you for staying. Thank you for not leaving.” And then a few minutes go and he lets out the rest, he tells him about his feelings and that he’s once again not expecting in return. And once again, Mike surprises him because if Will wasn’t already crying he’d start crying by the sight of Mike in tears. Mike is crying too and he’s trying to say something but the words aren’t coming out, and yet Will knows. Will knows that what he is feeling isn’t unrequited but Mike isn’t ready and Mike doesn’t know how to accept that part of him. The part that seems so new and like it was just discovered. And so Will tells him that he doesn’t have to say anything. That whatever he is feeling that it’s okay and that if he ever needs someone to talk to that he’s always going to be there -that he’s not going anywhere. He tells him that “No matter what happens in the future,I want you to be happy. I don’t care if it’s with El or with someone else. Your happiness is what matters the most to me”. Mike just nods at this and adds “Your happiness matter to me too. No matter who it is with”

Years later. They are both older. Will is out to more people and he’s proud of who he is. He is finally free and he is happy. Mike is still not ready and that’s okay. Mike knows that his friends would be okay if he told them but he doesn’t know how to explain that he doesn’t only like boys - and that he doesn’t only like girls, and mostly it confuses him more than anything. Because Will knows who he is and who he likes. Robin knows who she is and who she likes. And he doesn’t know anything and it’s scary, and what if he is just broken. And if he tells his parents they wouldn’t understand, and he thinks that he will never tell them. And if he likes both boys and girls then he will do whatever it takes to find a girl to fall in love with. But then he looks at Will, and he looks at the way this new guy is looking at him - the way Will used to look at him, and it makes him want to punch him.

Mike promised himself to do whatever it takes to meet a cute girl and marry her, and yet everyday he falls more deeply and desperately in love with his best friend. Because Mike doesn’t know who he is or what he likes - boys or girls, but he knows that he was in love with El and that he is now in love with Will, and that feels like the biggest tragedy. 

#byler #will byers #mike wheeler #stranger things #THIS TOOK A TURN #just like internalized homophobia always does.... #and the confusion of bisexuality because goes being bisexual is amazing and finally accepting it is so freeing #but when you are figuring things out it's awful #tw: internalized homophobia

[imthecleric]

[ @hiisheart - x ]

When Mike reached for his hand, it made him pause. Full stop. He had to collect himself because in the light of what Will just said, what he just admitted, aside from how Mike specifically factored into it. Mike was okay with touching him. He checked himself there though. He had to keep his hopes at zero because he accepted a long time ago that everyone was right about him. It was a more recent acceptance that he would not get to experience life like everyone else, indulging in who you like, going to school dances, going on dates. And, Mike deserved to know because Will needed confirmation if this was the end of their friendship, or if they would just be acquaintances, of if their friendship wouldn't change. Reciprocation hadn't been in the cards since the Snowball,

He blinked a few times, but the tears fell anyways. He nodded, and swallowed, his voice cracking, "I'm so sorry." Mike could react so many ways, and all Will could do was apologize. He had said he couldn't do it to Mike or El. It didn't matter if he had a crush on Mike before all this started, because like so many things Will downplayed his feelings because what are they to someone else who can actually indulge in them and live a life with feelings that are okay and right to have. And it went onto everything, but this was one of the pinpoints for how Will downplayed his feelings. He wanted to protect those around him from himself.

Slowly he pulled his hand away from Mike's as he finally looked at the other, resigning himself for the worst because it was Will, the worst was status quo. "I'm sorry, it wasn't fair to not tell you. To lie about myself. That way till the end I upheld Friends Don't Lie."

#tw: internalized homophobia #hiisheart #rp: hiisheart : thread 3 #verse: tbd

[the-oddest-inkling]

Why can’t I just be true to my feelings and be Catholic? Why does the Church has to make it so hard for people like us? People really underestimate the struggles we go through. 

It has gotten so bad lately that I can feel my pain of constantly being told I am not who I am, physically in my body. Maybe I need to remove myself from this whole religion thing, even though I know I will probably fall back into doubting everything that I am. 

Y’all must probably be so tired of me constantly going back and forth. I wish this would be easier. 

#ani talks #tw: internalized homophobia

[schrijverr]

I Found Myself a Cheerleader 7

Chapter 7 out of 28

Bumped to the lowest step on the social ladder after his fight with Billy, Steve gets roped in with the cheer team. What starts as a favor to help them out when one member breaks her leg in turn for protection from the brunt of the bullying, sets the universe on a different path.

In this chapter, Steve gets a job at the mall, while he attempts to get his life back under control. There he meets his new coworker, Robin, who seems to have an issue with him for no reason. Tentatively and rockily, they try to become cordial with each other, maybe even friends. However, trying to front a sense of normality isn’t easy and can hurt those around you.

On AO3.

Ships: eventual steddie & buckingham

Warnings: internalized homophobia, f-slur, period typical homophobia, child abuse mention

~~~~~~~~

Chapter 7: The Summer Job

Finding a job proves to be easier than Steve had expected. The mall has opened and is desperate for workers who’ll accept shit wages for the amount of work they have to do. Steve fits right in with the rest.

He’s hired the day after graduation when he is given a uniform and told to show up the next day. All his stuff is still in his car and Steve contemplates not going back to the Byers house, but it feels wrong to leave without a word after all the kindness Joyce showed him. And he’s sure that he can’t hide in a town as small as Hawkins.

Still, he doesn’t want to face any of the party right now. So, he drives out the quarry again. A part of him hopes Eddie will be there like he was yesterday, an angel in the midst of turmoil, but the hours he is there are spend alone.

When it gets late, he knows he has to get back. He can’t keep ignoring the world forever, so he’s going to have to face Jonathan and Will at some point. Plus, if he’s going to act like everything is fine, he should just do that, not hide away.

Steve can recognize that a part of him knows he is reluctant to go back, because he knows he’ll have to break Will’s heart. But he can’t be there for him right now. He can’t pretend like he’s okay with being gay, can’t pretend he’s fine after getting kicked out.

He just hopes the kid can forgive him.

With great reluctance he climbs back into the car and drives the same route to the Byers that he drove last night. He ignores how Joyce seems to be waiting by the kitchen window when he gets there. Tries not to think of how he nearly stayed away.

He walks up to the door and is let in by Will, who has clearly also been waiting for Steve. He tries not to think about that too much either, nor about the bruise on his face. It’s not the worst one he could have gotten, but it is one he had to explain in his interview earlier. He told the man hiring him it’s a basketball injury. One hit him in the face.

It’s obvious that Will is dying to ask something about it, however instructions from his mom and general politeness are stopping him. Steve decides he isn’t going to put him out of his misery and just says: “Hey, Will, good day?”

Will shrugs, looking a bit sad, though Steve doesn’t know why, and answers: “It was okay. Dustin is leaving for camp soon. He’s sad he didn’t catch you at home today.”

A stab of guilt goes through Steve. He’s been so wrapped up in his own bullshit that he forgot his favorite little guy. He loves all the kids of course, but Dustin is the one that keeps coming back, keeps smiling, keeps being happy to see him. He even convinced Steve to watch those nerd movies with him once and make a silly handshake that Steve loves more than he is willing to admit.

“I’ll radio him to say goodbye,” he tells Will with a smile.

“Alright,” Will shrugs again. Steve wants to ask what’s bothering him, but he doesn’t want to start a conversation he isn’t willing to have. So they stand at the door awkwardly until Joyce calls them for dinner.

Dinner is also quite awkward. Jonathan is there for once, he doesn’t say much, but eyes Steve with those knowing gray eyes. Even without the camera, he can make Steve feel watched.

Joyce meanwhile is trying to ignore the elephant in the room as she puts food on everyone’s plate and asks after Jonathan’s first day. Jonathan isn’t the most talkative, so that conversation dies out quite fast. She asks Will, who also isn’t in a mood to talk.

Now Joyce finds herself in the position where not asking Steve would be weird, even though she is trying not to ask and give him space. So, she gives a tight lipped smile and asks: “And you, Steve? Have a good day?”

“Got a job at the mall,” Steve answers to help her out. “Ice cream parlor. I start tomorrow, so I’ll be out of your hair for most of the day.”

“That’s nice,” Joyce says, relieved that he had an answer that wouldn't make it awkward.

“How was your day, mom?” Jonathan asks, when a silence falls again afterwards.

Joyce fills the rest of dinner with useless chatter about customers, while the rest of them eat in silence.

Steve feels bad about taking advantage of their hospitality. Upon reflection, it’s clear that Joyce feels like she owes him something for what he did. This is her trying to pay that back, but that isn’t necessary.

So, once dinner is done, he insists on doing the dishes, already trying to figure out how he can convince Joyce to take some of his paycheck.

He still needs the money if he ever wants to get his own place, but he can miss some of it to help the people who let him stay in their house while he gets back on his feet. Besides, if it all goes to plan, he can go back to his old house at some point and he won’t even need the money.

That evening Steve ensures them that he’s fine taking the couch. Joyce protests: “You can’t keep sleeping on the couch forever.”

“It won’t be forever,” Steve promises, hoping that he is right. “It’ll blow over. I’ll probably be out of here in a little bit.”

Joyce doesn’t look like she believes him, something he tries not to take to heart, since she relents and lets him sleep on the couch.

The next morning, Steve gets up early and makes breakfast, leaving it as he drives to work, so he can change at the mall, not yet wanting to face the Byers in the stupid work uniform. He picks up some foundation and applies it in the bathroom. His face looks practically acceptable now. Barely noticeable.

If he could tell himself at the start of junior year what his post-senior summer break looked like, he’s sure he would have fainted.

He feels like a fucking idiot as he makes his way to the ice cream parlor, but he also doesn’t care anymore. He’s been humiliated so much, that this barely matters anymore.

Still, he notices how he shrinks under the curious gaze of the girl behind the counter in the same uniform as him. Her eyebrows scrunch up and incredulously she exclaims: “You’re the new hire?” in a tone that gives away that she knows exactly who he is.

“Yeah,” he replies, deciding to be a bit cautious, since has no clue who she is.

“But you’re, like, loaded,” she says.

Oh- Oh, she doesn’t know he got kicked out. No one really does. This is his moment to start a new narrative. “I couldn’t get into college, my douchebag dad is making me work to teach me a lesson about hard work,” he shrugs.

“That sounds stupid,” the girl says.

“It is,” Steve agrees, because if that was the truth, he would feel like it was stupid. He walks up to the counter, glad the girl, Robin, is wearing a name tag so he can ask: “So, Robin, show me the ropes?”

Robin laughs: “Nothing difficult about slinging ice cream, Harrington. But I’ll show you how the work the till real quick.”

She goes to show him how it works, but it is not quick, nor easy. Steve doesn’t know whether he is dumb for not following her or if Robin is terrible at explaining. She continuously gets sidetracked and there is no clear order to what she says. However, as her hands fly over the machine it does exactly what she said it would.

In the end Steve tells her he’ll just scoop and she can man the till, until he figures it out. She sends him a look that tells him she thinks he’s a bit thick for not getting it, but she easily lets him take over the scooping.

The first day of working together is awful and awkward. Neither of them know what to say to each other and Steve can sense that Robin doesn’t like him much. He can’t blame her for that part, but he also doesn’t know what to do about it. She is either homophobic and thinks he’s a filthy fag or she’s a nerd, who thinks he’s asshole King Steve. Until he figures out which one, it’s not like he can say something. But he’ll have to grit his teeth, because they’re always assigned together.

However, the work itself isn’t so bad. It’s a bit of a strain on the arms, but after months of lifting girls up into the air, he is more than fine.

He also finds that his job is the perfect place to get the new Steve into the world. He’s never going back to his asshole ways, but if he can just get his reputation as womanizer back, then that will save him a bunch of trouble. And at work there are enough girls that come by.

With Robin behind the till, he has a harder time starting a conversation, but he tries as much as he can when they give him the flavor he wants.

His efforts mostly earn him confused looks by those who have heard the rumors, but he doesn’t pay them any mind. He is going to carry on and erase them. Some girls even giggle at his efforts, which feels like a massive win after the terrible week he’s had.

The next day passes much the same. Robin keeps sending him glances every time he flirts with a girl and radiates with a confused energy that has Steve on edge and not very keen to interact with her beyond what’s necessary.

On the third day, Robin breaks. She has her break, but instead of spending it in the break room, she is sitting on the little bar where the dividing window also is. She’s kicking her feet and commenting on Steve’s tilling skills. It’s a calmer moment and no one is demanding their services.

“So, why did you do cheerleading?” she asks.

Steve tenses up at the question, unsure of why she wants to know. She doesn’t sound judgmental, more curious and confused, but Steve just can’t be sure. He reminds himself of the story he’s here to tell and turns around with a shrug. “I wanted to get into their pants.”

If he wants to fool himself, he could think that Robin’s face falls a bit at his answer. But he can’t think of why that would be, so he disregards it.

“Did it work?” she asks, after a beat that lasts a second too long.

“Not really,” Steve tells her honestly, not wanting to spread any rumors about his friends. The question, however, reminds him that he still has to call Chrissy. He keeps forgetting, because he doesn’t want to rack up the Byers’ phone bill.

“Oh,” Robin says, nodding, another awkward silence filling the air.

It is broken by Erica Sinclair and her posse coming in. At this point Steve sees it as a welcome distraction, instead of watching her arrival with horror. Robin, who has been working there longer, knows to take her break to the fullest and hides when they get there, leaving Steve to fend for himself.

Still, it seems that with the question she’s been burning to ask answered, some of the tension hanging in the air dissipated. Steve doesn’t know how to describe it. It feels like Robin has stopped expecting something from him and just turned up the snark towards him. Steve can’t phantom what she might want from him, but he can appreciate her cutting words in some weird way.

When her words are directed at him, it’s more at the old idea of him, who Steve also doesn’t care for much. So, he can ignore that. Besides, her comments are funny. Her words aren’t always directed at him either.

“God, who does that,” she breathes when a customer walks away with a horrid combination of flavors on his cone.

“I know, it’s a crime, like those socks in his sandals,” Steve adds, looking over the counter with some judgment as the man leaves the store.

Robin sends him a look that is part delight, part surprise. It morphs into a grin and she says: “I should have known you had it in you.”

Steve doesn’t really know what she means by that, but smiles anyway. It feels a bit like acceptance and that is all he has been yearning for.

The interaction is basically an invitation to comment on all customers, who they don’t agree with on some level. If Steve is honest, it is most of their customers. Especially the ones that complain about everything or are just rude straight to their faces. Even doing this only three days has Steve hardened to the way people treat him and Robin.

By the end of the day, there is a tentative solidarity and working rhythm between them. Finally something positive in Steve’s life.

As they close up, they pass a pay phone and Steve stops. Robin also stops, raising a confused brow at him. He asks: “Can I ask you a favor?”

Her eyes narrow suspiciously and Steve fears he just undid the day of progress between them. “That depends. What do you want?”

“Can you call Chrissy’s house and get her mom to hand Chrissy the phone so I can talk to her?” Steve asks.

“You want me to call your girlfriend?” Robin asks, affronted. “I’m not getting involved in your nonsense, Harrington.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Steve immediately says, a bit frantic. “She’s a sophomore, are you for real? I am not that gross, Robin.” He wishes he knew her last name, so he could do that back. “She’s my friend. And her mom is really strict. She doesn’t even know we’re friends. I promised to tell her when I got a job. I had a fight with my father, she knew about it. I just want to make her not worry.”

Robin still doesn’t look convinced, but she at least looks like she is considering it. Steve holds his breath and gives her space.

“Okay,” Robin agrees. “But I am a nervous rambler, so you have to be right there to tell me what to say and you can’t get mad at me when it blows up in our faces.”

“Thank you,” Steve smiles, glad that she at least doesn’t hate him too much to deny him this. “Just tell her that you’re Stevie and you want to speak to Chrissy, because you are planning to hang out soon.”

“Stevie?” Robin repeats with a laugh.

Steve blushes and looks away. “Yeah. It’s the only way we could even hang out together. I know her from cheer squad.”

“Sure, I’ve always wanted to be a spy,” Robin grins and goes to pick up the phone. “You pay,” she demands.

The phone rings and Steve stands next to her anxiously to listen in. After a few rings, Mrs. Cunningham picks up: “This is the Cunningham household, to whom am I speaking?”

Robin is quiet and Steve prods her, which sends her into motion. “Hi,” she squeaks. “I’m Stevie, Chrissy’s friend from cheer squad?”

“Oh, Stevie,” Mrs. Cunningham says, sounding more positive than Steve has ever heard her. “My Chrissy has told me so much about you.”

“Only good things I hope,” Robin replies. “Wouldn't want her to lie about me, because there are only good things to be heard about me. Not that Chrissy would ever lie, of course-” Again Steve prods her and Robin shuts up.

“Sorry,” she says sheepishly and Steve isn’t sure, who she’s talking to. “I was calling to speak to Chrissy. We were planning to hang out.”

“Of course, I’ll get her,” Mrs. Cunningham tells her, sounding less enthusiastic than when Robin first introduced herself as Stevie.

As Mrs. Cunningham leaves, Steve takes the phone. While he does, he hisses: “What the hell, that was terrible.”

“I already told you,” Robin exclaims. “I don’t do well under social pressure. You promised not to be mad.”

Steve isn’t sure if he is mad, it was good enough for Mrs. Cunningham to let him speak to Chrissy and that’s all he cares about. He’s just a bit surprised at the word vomit that just happened. “It’s okay,” he says.

Robin smiles at that, then leans in, wanting to listen in. Part of Steve wants to push her away, another part guesses he owes her that much.

“Stevie?” Chrissy greets.

“Hey, Chris,” Steve smiles.

“Hi,” Chrissy says, sounding brighter. “How did you get my mom to patch you through?”

“I had Robin call for me,” Steve explains.

“Robin?” Chrissy asks

“My coworker,” Steve says.

“Hi, Chrissy,” Robin yells a bit too loudly into the speaker, making Steve wince.

“Uhm, hi,” Chrissy replies.

“We work at Scoops Ahoy together,” Steve cuts in before it can get weird. “It’s the ice cream parlor at Starcourt. I work full time right now, so you can come by whenever. I’ll hook you up with free ice cream.”

“Oehh, I’m not saying no to that,” Chrissy says. “I’ll be by tomorrow, that okay? I missed your face.”

“Sounds great, me too,” Steve tells her, feeling freer than he has in a few days.

It’s quiet for a beat, then Chrissy asks: “You still staying with that friend?”

Next to him Robin makes a curious noise as he just tries not to physically recoil. He probably can’t keep up the lie for the rest of the summer, but he doesn’t want to admit it with Robin listening in and the fight at graduation fresh in Chrissy’s mind.

So, he plasters on a grin and shakes his head. “Nah, they left town on business, so I’m back home again. Don’t worry about me, Chris.”

Chrissy sighs. “I don’t think I can, Stevie. It was really scary.”

“Not that scary, promise,” Steve tries to distract as he lies. “And I was in the thick of it. It looked worse than it was.”

“You can always come here if it’s bad again,” Chrissy says.

“We both know your mom would kill me,” Steve jokes and Chrissy laughs: “Yeah.”

“I’m fine, no need for that,” Steve assures her. “Goodnight, Chris. I’ll see you tomorrow again. You can see for yourself that I’m okay.”

“Okay, yeah, ‘till tomorrow, Stevie,” Chrissy says. “Goodnight.”

They hang up and Steve faces Robin again, who is staring at him with thoughtful eyes that make Steve’s hair stand on edge. A bit harshly he asks: “What?”

Robin blinks slowly, then softly says: “That sounded serious.”

“And it’s none of your business,” Steve grouches and starts to walk away.

“I kind of feel like you made it my business, Stevie,” Robin calls after him.

He turns around and snaps: “Don’t call me that.”

Robin runs a bit to catch up and says: “Alright, alright, touchy. Just curious what happened that got her like that.”

“Got into a fight with my father,” Steve shrugs, not facing her. “It happened at graduation. She saw it. It looked more dramatic than it was, okay. That’s all.”

“…Okay,” Robin says after a silence. She doesn’t really sound like she believes him, but Steve doesn’t care if she believes him or not, he just wants her to shut up about it.

They don’t say goodbye that day and Steve goes home in a bad mood. The mood isn’t helped by Will, who has been trying to talk to him for the past three days. Steve has been managing to distract, but that is bound to run out at some point.

Will is waiting on the couch – Steve’s space in the Byers house – when he gets back. Steve isn’t in the mood, so he goes to the bathroom and takes a shower, changing into day clothes, before going into the kitchen, skipping the couch.

He’s the first one back, so he starts up dinner. It’s his way to pay back Joyce and her kindness for taking him in.

The action isn’t deterring Will, who comes and sit with him in the kitchen, watching as he cooks dinner. Those wide eyes following his every action. It’s clear there is something on his mind, but Steve isn’t in the mood to ask. Far from it, in fact. So, he says nothing.

After a few minutes, however, Will breaks the silence. In that timid, sweet voice of him, he asks: “Is it the reason your dad threw you out?”

Steve halts – it is only for a second then he goes on, but he knows Will noticed it – and grits his teeth. He wants to snap, take out his emotions on Will, be mad at him like he wanted to rage at Robin and her curiosity, or at Chrissy for being worried, both of them reminding him of what he is trying to ignore. But he know he can’t. Will doesn’t deserve that.

Will can’t help that Steve hates himself, hates his father, yet also wants his approval, how he hates that he can’t be normal. And Will definitely doesn’t deserve that self hatred when that is also hatred against him.

But Steve also can’t confirm it. He can’t bring himself to make it real, to speak it into the world like he had with Eddie. Eddie, who made it easy to admit, to feel it, to talk about it. He misses how he feels with Eddie around. Because right now, he doesn’t feel like that. Right now he feels cornered and afraid.

“I don’t know what you mean,” is what he settles on. It’s not a denial, not the hurtful truth, but a dismissal.

They’ve never confirmed and always talked indirectly, both of them understanding what they’re talking about. Today, however, Steve is playing dumb. He is good at playing dumb. And right now, he hopes that Will is as conflicted as he is, too conflicted to actually say it. To ask it again this time with explicit words.

It’s the coward’s way out and Steve knows it. He can’t bring himself to look Will in the eye.

“Oh, okay. Nevermind,” Will says and Steve can hear the hurt that hides under the surface, as well as the confusion, but, most importantly, the defeat. Like he believes Steve truly doesn’t know what he means and he’s all alone again, but he knows he shouldn’t have expected anything else.

That tone breaks Steve’s heart and he wants to reach out. Wants to spin some tale about how it will all work out and he just got to hold on and it will all get better.

But Steve can’t.

He wants to, truly he does. But he can’t lie to Will, because Steve doesn’t like himself, he doesn’t like that he can’t bring himself to change. And he doesn’t believe that it will get better. He might have two weeks ago, but not now.

So, he keeps cooking and doesn’t look as he hears Will walk off, before a chair scrapes at the kitchen table and he sounds of crayons starts up.

They do their own thing like that until Joyce comes home. She asks Will about his day and gets him to talk about how Lucas and Max broke up again and how Mike couldn't come, because he was off with El, as Joyce tries to bud in with dinner, but Steve doesn’t let her. He’s content to stay in the background as Joyce fusses over Will, he’s sure the kid can use it after their conversation.

Dinner is as stilted as always. Steve can’t bring himself to lean into the care Joyce is offering him out of guilt or sense of owing, but Joyce keeps trying. This night Jonathan is off to eat at Nancy’s house and Will is quieter than normal.

Steve gladly turns in early, pretending to sleep for a long time in the hope he’ll be left alone by the two Byers in the house. At this point it’s a miracle he hasn’t woken up screaming yet. Though the Byers would at least know why and likely leave him be if he asked. He has graciously ignored Will and Joyce drinking hot chocolate in the middle of the night by pretending to sleep.

The next day, he takes care in covering the bruise. It is already starting to turn yellow, which helps in hiding it. He isn’t looking forwards to seeing Robin again, but he’s excited about Chrissy coming by, even if he’s wearing the stupid uniform.

When he gets there Robin isn’t there yet and he sets up in peace. A peace that is interrupted about five minutes in when it is broken by the arrival of Robin. She greets him like nothing happened yesterday and maybe in her mind it didn’t.

“Hi,” Steve decides to greet back. It’s civil enough and if he gives himself a second, he’s sure he can pretend as well. It wasn’t that bad anyway, Robin doesn’t know why he’s on edge about being questioned like that.

They settle back into their work rhythm and when Robin doesn’t bring it up again, he manages to relax and bitch with her again.

Around noon is when Chrissy walks into the parlor. She’s in a light green summer dress and looks absolutely stunning. It’s Robin, who spots her first. She trips over air and loudly bangs into the counter, causing Steve to look around. He light up and calls out: “Chris!”

“Stevie,” Chrissy grins, skipping up to the counter. Robin is there, staring at her as Steve hustles her to the side, frowning at her a little.

“Ahoy,” he says, dorkily tipping his stupid hat.

As expected it makes her giggle and she exclaims: “I can’t believe that’s the uniform. Sorry, but you look ridiculous.”

“I know,” Steve rolls his eyes fondly. “How are you doing, Chris? What flavor can I get you? On me, promise.”

“Again, not saying not to that,” Chrissy smiles, reading the signs, before picking strawberry. “Is your job fun?” she asks as Steve scoops. The question feels a bit like one you’d ask an acquaintance, the past few days hanging like an invisible barrier between them.

“Could be worse,” Steve shrugs, handing her the cone. “Some people are shit.”

“Tell me about it,” Chrissy says. “My mom can get so mad. It’s embarrassing to be seen with her when she does that.”

Steve barks out a laugh, the tension seeping away from them. He leans over the counter and says: “I somehow can imagine that very well. No offense to your mom.”

“Oh, full offense to her,” Chrissy laughs as well.

It isn’t busy and Steve clings to that calm as he takes as much time as he can get away with just chatting with Chrissy. Talking with her makes him feel normal again. They discuss what the cheer squad will look like next year, how Chrissy will have to get used to two bases again, and the rumor that coach Miller has a boyfriend now.

Steve notices Robin hovering in the background. She is oddly quiet, letting Chrissy and Steve catch up without blabbering on. Steve is grateful to her for that.

However, the calm doesn’t last forever and when more people come in than Robin can handle alone he gives her an apologetic smile. “You’re more than welcome to hang around, but I get off late, so it’s not really worth it.”

“I’ll go look around the mall,” Chrissy says brightly. “I probably won’t stay until the end of your shift, but I’ll come by before I leave.”

“Have fun,” Steve calls after her as they wave each other goodbye.

After she has left, they’re up to their neck in people wanting ice cream to flee from the growing early June heat. However, once the hustle has died down again, Robin turns to Steve and asks: “That’s Chrissy?”

“Yeah, who did you think Chrissy was?” Steve replies, a bit confused. He doesn’t think Chrissy looks that intimidating or weird, she looks like every girl out there. Is there something he’s missing that Robin sees? Is it a girl thing?

“Well, I mean- I guess- I don’t know,” Robin splutters. “I’m not involved with the cheer team. I do band. Guess, my image of cheerleaders is different than Chrissy.”

“No need to be so defensive,” Steve frowns. “She’s nice.”

“I believe you,” Robin squeaks.

Steve studies her closely, looking more confused. He doesn’t know what is up with her and why she’s weird about Chrissy. He already noticed she was a little bit quieter today and she seemed surprised by Chrissy. Maybe it’s because she does band and has a weird idea about more popular kids? Yeah, that must be it.

“Just because she’s a cheerleader, doesn’t mean she’s a bitch,” he tells her. “I’ll introduce you when she comes by again. You’ll see.”

At that Robin makes a weird noise, but nods, which is enough for Steve. He doesn’t care that much about Robin’s opinion of most popular kids, but he does care about Chrissy and he wants her to be liked.

It’s soon after that Chrissy come by again. She’s smiling brightly and holding a few bags. She sheepishly says: “I might have explored the mall too thoroughly.”

“Did you at least buy stuff you actually want?” Steve laughs at her.

“Yeah,” she lights up and shows him a few skirts and shirts that she bought as well as a new outfit for cheer practice. “I know it’s not going to be the same without you there, so this is to cheer me up,” she informs him. “And I can wear it if we practice together. If- if you still want to do that, of course.”

Steve wants to shut that down. He is building a new image here and cheerleading isn’t part of that, however he isn’t ready to let go of that. Cheerleading has been his happy place throughout some of the worst months of his life and he doesn’t want to give that up. Doesn’t want to let go of this friendship he has with Chrissy. So, he smiles: “Of course I want to, Chris. Don’t be stupid.”

“Yay,” she says with a bit smile. Actually saying the word yay out loud.

Behind Steve Robin makes a noise that might be laughter or her choking to death. Steve isn’t sure and turns around to see her looking a bit red. Probably choking, he guesses. But it also reminds him of going to introduce Robin.

“Oh, Chris, this is Robin, the one that called your mom for me,” he says, pointing at Robin, who gives Chrissy to most awkward smile and wave combo Steve has ever seen in his life. He has already noticed how clumsy she is, but she truly elevates it to a new level.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Chrissy greets, turning her smile onto Robin, who just nods again.

Steve frowns at her, then says to Chrissy: “She’s usually harder to shut up, but I think her lunch fell funny.”

That’s enough to earn him a squawk and a push from Robin, who tells Chrissy. “Don’t listen to him, me and my lunch are perfectly happy together.” A statement that gets a giggle out of Chrissy as Robin stares at her with wide eyes.

She’s an odd girl, Steve decides, before inserting himself into the conversation again.

With the ice broken between them conversation comes easier. Steve knows Robin isn’t being as bitchy as she usually is and even Chrissy is toning down her rough edges, but he can see the two getting along.

He, himself, is starting to warm up to Robin too, as long as she stops her prodding, which she might. He hopes so at least. Anyway, the point is, it would be nice to have more friends and actually get along with the girl, whom he’s going to be stuck with for the rest of the summer. And if that girl and his admittedly best friend could get along too, that would be extra lovely. As he’d seen on the cheer squad, girls fighting could get mean.

But he doesn’t have to worry about that, they’re getting along, even teaming up against Steve at some point. Which is rude, honestly.

Chrissy does have to go home after a while. Robin is distracted by Erica Sinclair and her gang, when Chrissy decides to go, giving the other girl a quick goodbye. Then she turns to Steve and asks: “Can we have a sleep over together soon? We can order pizza and watch stupid movies and I can annoy you with my crushes.”

Steve aches to agree. He knows how she has been stuck with her mother while Steve sorted himself out and he wants to help out. The sleepovers have been a haven for both of them. However, Steve can’t even get into his own house and he’s lying to Chrissy that he can.

“I don’t know if I can manage soon, but I’ll tell you the moment I can,” he settles her, trying not to let the way her face falls slightly get to him. “But you can hang out here every day. I’ll even buy you lunch on my breaks, promise.”

That cheers her up a bit and she says: “I’m holding you to that, Stevie. See you tomorrow.”

“See you,” Steve says as he watches her leave.

Soon, he and Robin are closing up Scoops Ahoy, both of the seem to be lost in thought and Steve is grateful for it. He doesn’t need another interrogation from Robin.

Instead of driving straight to the Byers house, he makes his way to Loch Nora, hands tight on the wheel as his old house comes into focus.

He hasn’t been here since he got kicked out and a part of him thought his parents might still be around. Might want to stay with Steve out of their way. But it seems not, because the house looms over him as empty and dark as it has always had.

His body isn’t doing as told, so he climbs out of the car with jerky movements, having to fumble with the keys. He still hasn’t gotten around to trading his car, but so far it’s still unharmed. It must be hard to find among the masses at the mall, he muses.

Thinking about his car isn’t as big a distraction as he hoped it would be. He’s still standing in front of a familiar door, the keys jangling with how much his hand is shaking. Steve isn’t sure what will be worse, the door opening or it staying closed. The fact that his parents didn’t care enough to even bother fulfilling their threats or if the only time they cared was to fulfill them.

Slowly, he brings the key to the door. It goes in for a bit and Steve’s breath catches. Then the key stops moving and no pressure Steve dares to put on it can get it further.

They changed the locks.

His parents, who have never been home for more than a few days in years, cared to changed the locks, just to keep him out. Their hatred for who he is, is bigger than the indifference they have always had towards him as he tried his hardest to make them proud. All he had to do to get their attention was disappointing them too much to ignore.

Tears make his vision blurry and not for the first time does he wish that he can change, that he can stare at a girl and feel what all his friends always seemed to feel. That he could like Nancy the way he fooled himself into thinking he did. That he could be what his father wanted.

The last thought sends a wave of anger through him. He has tried so fucking hard, he’s still fucking trying and it’s not going to be enough. It never is.

So, he pushes away the tears, not willing to cry. He’s still going to try and find a girlfriend just to get rid of the target on his back, but he is refusing to cry over his parents changing the locks. He isn’t going to give them that.

Steve turns around pointedly and stalks back to his car, before driving to the Byers house where Joyce is already cooking. He greets her and Will, who is drawing at the table, only Joyce greets him back and he tries not to let that get to him either.

He takes a quick shower and changes into his normal clothes. His insides are still all messed up, but he is determined not to make dinner awkward again. He is still a Harrington (at least, he thinks so) and Harringtons play their part. He can use that bit of upbringing to make the Byers happy in their own home while he stays there.

When he gets back to the kitchen, Will has retreated into his room. It hurts more than Steve is willing to admit.

That evening passes as so many others have done. Though Steve is making more of an effort to talk, which is appreciated by Joyce, who is more fun to talk to than Steve had realized before today. He still doesn’t believe she cares that much about him, but he likes talking to her anyway.

The next morning, he rolls off the couch and into his uniform, covering his bruise once more, before driving to the mall. He’s going to see that mall more often than he would like this summer, he thinks as he sighs.

~~

A/N:

I love Steve as a queer mentor for Will, trust me I do and I’m gonna try and make it happen later, but you gotta be in the Right Place to be that for someone and Steve definitely isn’t right now. And yeah that hurts Will, but it hurts Steve too and it isn’t his fault that he isn’t ready. Queer reality is messy and I wanted to show that <3

Also, I am dying about Robin and Steve before they became besties, it’s so weird to writeeee ahhhhh

#rr writing #stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #robin buckley #platonic stobin #stobin #steve harrington & chrissy cunningham #robin buckley x chrissy cunningham #chrissy cunningham #steve and robin #cheerleader steve harrington au #st post season 2 #parental joyce byers #joyce byers #will byers #steve and will #tw: f slur #tw: internalized homophobia #tw: period typical homophobia #tw: child abuse mention #st season 3

[somekidnamedkai]

KINDA NSFW!!

I mostly just say dick and stuff. it’s not like hugely inappropriate, but still.

Also tw: internalized homophobia and lesbophobia under the cut

Me: I’m a lesbian

My friend: You haven’t had good dick.

…They genuinely have no idea how homophobic that is

AND THEY’RE GAY

they genuinely think that I’m only a lesbian because I haven’t have had a good dick in me. They said that I’ll change my mind once I experience it 💀

Listen just because you use to identify as a lesbian but a dick changed your life doesn’t mean that’s the same for everyone else.

And I love this friend so much. They’re truly one of my closest and best friends. But I’m so goddamn tired of all they want to do is talk about their partners penis to me, and say that one day I’ll understand as IF IM NOT A FUCKING LESBIAN. And even when I say that they just say “so was I”

God damn, they are one of the only people I personally know that I’m out to. AND THEY STILL CANT RESPECT MY GODDAMN SEXUALITY.

NOT EVERY FUCKING PERSON WANTS A DICK IN THEIR ASS MY FUCKING GOD

THIS IS WHY SO MANY LESBIANS GET TOLD THEY JUST HAVEN’T MET THE RIGHT GUY OR HAD A GOOD DICK YET. EVEN OTHERS IN THE LGBT COMMUNITY SAY THAT SHIT.

#tw: internalized homophobia #internalized homophobia #i love them #but i am so tired of them #and their stupid ‘oh you’ll experience one day’ #no. no i wont #i #do #not #like #men #lesbophobia #tw: lesbophobia #lgbt #lgbtq #lesbian #bisexual #nonbinary #genderfluid

[mustangs-flames]

Mark : *is just done explaining everything that he has done or gone through in part 5 *

Also Mark : I just want some advice on what I should do from here

O'Brien : Gay rights ( OMG a priest saying that???? )

jhdjshbfg

tbh, I think O'Brien wouldn't care about Mark being gay considering he also didn't mind about Dave being trans (he was one of the first people Dave came out to funnily enough) - if anything he's supportive. I wish O'Brien would get the chance to say that to Mark though considering how ashamed of himself that Mark feels, you know? I've hinted at it a few times in the fics that Cesar was the only person to know about him being gay, after all. So now it's just a secret Mark has that he feels he can't share with anyone else.

But no, O'Brien decides to be like "hey, maybe God wants you to go and hunt alternates, ever think about that? :) " instead lmao

#hail true body au #mustang answers! #htb mark #htb o'brien #tw: internalized homophobia #congrats mark on not realising the new father figure you have (thatcher) is bisexual btw #this kid is so wrapped up in thinking it's bad he is gay that he doesn't realise that his whole new found family is queer lmao #dw he figures it all out eventually lol

[ghostzussy]

I just wanted to do a recap to show my art improvement this year! :) in the last 2 years I stopped drawing, but in May I took up a new job that allowed me to draw more in my free time.

A bunch of my art pieces under the cut! TW: some vent pieces below depicting homophobia, transphobia, self hate, etc., below the cut.

June 28

July 30

Aug. 11

Aug. 13

Sept. 23

Sept. 25

Sept. 25

Oct. 2

Nov. 1

Nov. 17

#tw: internalized homophobia #tw: homophobia #tw: implied self harm