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madeimpact · 2 years

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Headcanon: Important people in Shinji’s life.

( CW: mentions of physical abuse and internalized homophobia. )

Tadao, Junko, and Ichiro Rokubungi ( 六分儀タダオ・ジュンコ・イチロウ ) - Shinji’s paternal* uncle, aunt, and older cousin, respectively. In the manga, Shinji was sent to live with them after Yui’s disappearance. Tadao is Gendo’s older brother, and the two squabbled as children. Gendo taking Yui’s surname did not help to quell Tadao’s, and subsequently Junko’s, distrust of him. Although Tadao and Junko provided for Shinji as best they could, Shinji believed them to be showing favoritism towards his cousin. This, combined with their tendency to talk badly about Gendo and his relationship with Yui, caused Shinji to resent his aunt and uncle. Too, Tadao and Junko saw traces of Gendo’s personality in Shinji’s unpredictable and sometimes rebellious nature. Although Shinji was able to peacefully coexist with his relatives as he got older, his childhood with them was rocky. Tadao and Junko tended to turn to physical measures to keep Shinji in line, and Shinji eventually avoided this by keeping his head down and being compliant. In the anime and Rebuild verses, Shinji was never sent to live with his relatives, so this problem of violence never presented itself, and he never ended up particularly close with them.

*Slight canon divergence. The manga mentions Shinji going to live with Yui’s older sister. However, due to Yui’s connections with SEELE and her and Gendo’s efforts to conspire against them, having Shinji stay with Yui’s family would be a dangerous call. Since Yui was involved with SEELE, then by extension, any siblings of hers may well also have ties to the organization. Shinji, as instrumental in...well...Instrumentality as he is, was best kept separate from other SEELE personnel.

Takumi Fujisaki ( 不二咲タクミ ) - The sensei that Shinji lives with in the anime and Rebuild, following Yui’s disappearance. A man in his early thirties at the time he took Shinji in, he was a former acquaintance of Yui’s, and was able to see to Shinji’s schooling when the time came, as an elementary school teacher himself. Shinji attended Takumi’s first grade class, but continued to live with him until he moved in with Misato instead. Takumi was a kind man, and Shinji describes his life with him as being peaceful. He loved the arts, and his interest in music was even a factor in Shinji beginning the cello. However, Shinji does not see Takumi as a father figure. He was also a busy man; he was unmarried, and had to work hard to provide for Shinji as well as himself. Takumi saw to it that Shinji was fed, housed, clothed, and able to get to and from school and cello lessons, but otherwise spent most of his time grading work, or otherwise trying to make ends meet. Too, Shinji was seen as a teacher’s pet in the first grade, and his good grades were attributed to an “unfair advantage” he gained from living with Takumi.

Kotone Shime ( 志免コトネ ) - Shinji’s cello instructor, and a friend of Takumi’s. Takumi contacted Kotone to get Shinji started playing the cello, believing that Shinji needed an extracurricular of some sort. Kotone was a kind young woman, and an extremely talented cellist herself, having graduated from prestigious music programs and played in professional orchestras. Shinji was able to see Kotone twice a week for practice, and believed her to be a nice person. She was always at his recitals — which was extremely important to him, seeing as Takumi was always too busy to attend himself. Takumi’s continued absences, among other factors, eventually caused Shinji’s motivation to wane, so he eventually stopped attending lessons so Takumi could save the money. However, because no one outright told him to stop practicing, Shinji continued to play on his own time. This hobby which he was told to start became a solace for him, as the one thing he could take a modicum of pride in.

Miyu Kaetsu ( 嘉悦ミユ ) - A past girlfriend of Shinji’s. The relationship wasn’t exactly a serious one, given the fact that the two were around twelve years old at the time. But the memory is painful nonetheless, and it stuck with Shinji moving forward. Miyu had been a classmate of Shinji’s in previous school years, and while not an extremely close friend of his, spoke with him on occasion. She was the one to initiate the relationship in their first year of junior high — and the one to end it, as well. The relationship lasted barely a month before the two started to drift apart. Eventually, Miyu broke up with Shinji over text: “I don’t really like you that way anymore.” Miyu would confide in her friends that she couldn’t understand Shinji, and never knew what he was thinking. Shinji never approached her for an explanation.

Kazu Aikyo ( 愛敬カズ ) - A friend in Shinji’s first year of junior high, and his first real male crush, albeit a short-lived one. Although he had been curious about boys before, he would always ignore the feelings because of society’s heteronormativity. Kazu was his first male crush that did not simply die out after a few days or weeks. It developed a while after his relationship with Miyu ended, but still, Shinji believed that a boy loving a boy was unnatural. Fearing the possibility of being rejected, hurt, or ridiculed, he repressed his romantic feelings for Kazu and never told him about it, believing that the feelings would eventually subside. They did, but not without Shinji having passing interest in other male peers. Kazu eventually found a girlfriend, and Shinji fell out of contact with him after transferring to Tokyo-3 Junior High, but he was instrumental in allowing him to come to terms with his bisexuality.

#❛ headcanon: shinji.#❛ worldbuilding: nge.#neg's great hc migration #abuse cw #abuse tw #physical abuse tw #physical abuse cw #internalized homophobia tw #internalized homophobia cw #PHEW did i get all those tags

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iomadachd · 1 year

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12 Days of Romance Tropes - Day 6

:: Has your muse had a crush on someone with a familial tie to someone they're close to? i.e. their best friend's sibling, adoptive uncle, cousin, etc (found family counts!) How did they deal with their feelings? And how did the family members react? ::

Mary had the biggest crush as a teenager on both her brother's best friend and his sister. They were basically family, over at their place all the time since they came from another hunting family in the area.

James had wavy brown hair and big brown eyes, and his sister Patricia looked to her like a model, all willowy and long limbed with dark curls and hazel eyes that flashed green in the sunlight. She crushed hard and fast on both, idealizing them both in her mind.

She handled it about as well as any teenager does, blushing every time either of them were around and desperately trying to not say anything stupid that would out her as crushing on both of them. She mostly managed it via not saying anything at all and disappearing off to her room. That was saying more than enough and was the worst kept secret even if no one called her on it.

It's not as if she could admit her crushes, especially on Patricia, it might have been the end of the 60s, but you just didn't talk about abnormal things like that.

Since there was a significant age gap between her and her brother, they both treated her like a kid, and thought it was cute more than anything. No one really recognized her crush on the sister, treating it more like hero worship.

Eventually, after about six months or so, she moved past it, but she remembers them both fondly, even now.

#;mary hc #internalized homophobia cw #rpcdev

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imfinereallyy · 11 months

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hummingbirds

Steve’s crying on the porch of his parents' house, with a duffel bag and baseball bat, when Eddie pulls into the driveway.

“Jesus, Steve, what happened?” Eddie crouches down to get eye level with Steve. Despite being dark out, the sun set long ago, and the outdoor lights weren’t on. Steve turns to look at his parents' car in the driveway and thinks back to when the lock had distinctly turned shut on the front door. They were around to switch the lights on; they just didn’t care anymore to do so.

Steve is grateful for the moonlight, as he can see the pretty lines on Eddie’s face. Even if they currently curve into a frown.

“Hey Eds.” Steve’s voice cracks.

“Stevie…what happened?” Eddie asks again, this time it’s gently. It cradles Steve and holds him softly. He wishes Eddie’s hands would do the same.

“Did you know hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backward?” Steve sniffles.

Eddie’s face scrunches in confusion, “What? Birds? You lost me.”

Steve pushes past Eddie’s confused face. “They are the only birds to fly backward. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Dustin to teach me that out of the munchkins. It was actually El. She’s apparently going through a bird phase. And I don’t think the others are very interested. So I try to pay attention when she talks about it. And she taught me about hummingbirds.”

Eddie settles on his knees, “That’s great, man and those little shits should listen to her more, but I’m not sure what that has to do with what’s wrong. You called me to come pick you up and hung up before I could even answer.”

Steve bites his lip, “Sorry, my dad clicked the phone off.” Eddie’s face shows surprise, but Steve keeps talking before he can interrupt. “And well, I guess hummingbirds have nothing to do with anything. It’s stupid, really.”

“No, no. It’s not stupid. Tell me about the birds, Stevie.” Eddie’s hand finally reaches out to Steve. He brushes the fallen hair out of his face, and something in Steve just sets him off.

“You see, they can fly backward. And well, no, I’m getting ahead of myself. You see, my cousin Tucker is here to visit. And let me tell you, he is the worst. Like Eddie, you would hate him. Conservative, capitalist enthusiast, real bootlicker kind of guy.”

“Sounds like the worst. Especially if he made you use the big words.” Eddie’s hand falls away, and Steve mourns the loss. Normally, when people make jokes about his intelligence, it stings. It makes him feel small. But when Eddie does it, it isn’t mean or a poke at how stupid Steve is. With Eddie, it’s almost like he’s reminding Steve that he is smart. That maybe Steve is the one making himself small.

He is.

“Anyway, he’s visiting, right? So my parents come home. And I haven’t seen them in months, since before spring break. It’s nearly October, and I haven’t seen them, and I can’t tell if I’m excited or dreading their arrival. It’s always a fight when they are around, how I’m not good enough, how I should be more. Their visits always end up being cut short, and me feeling like shit. But this stupid, stupid part of me was hoping it would be different this time. They haven’t seen me since the “earthquakes.” Surely they’ll be happy to see I’m okay, right?”

Eddie stays silent, his face revealing nothing.

“Of course, it’s not. They only came home because my cousin Tucker was in town. All the way from Indy cause it’s so far. And my mom ‘made’ dinner, as in she ordered it and pretended she made it. It wasn’t even that good, but we all pretended it was the best thing ever made. Cause that’s what they do, pretend. And the dinner is fine, boring. Most of it is just me staying silent while my dad and Tucker talk about the business. Tucker runs the Indy office while my dad is in New York. Ya see, Tucker has been gunning to take over for my dad when he retires, which is another word for dies—“ Steve let’s put a bitter laugh; he wonders if his parents are listening. He doubts it.

“—and they are going on for the whole meal, and I’m almost through the home stretch when my dad brings up me, coming to work for him.”

Eddie reacts finally, “You’re going to New York?” His voice is strained, like he is trying very hard not to yell, not at Steve, but at anyone who will listen. Steve is quick to correct.

“No, no, I’m not. This was news to me to Eds. I have no interest in my dad's business, and as far as I was concerned, he didn’t want me a part of it either. Guess that has changed. Has? Had? I don’t know…” Steve trails off.

“Harrington.”

“Don’t call me that. It makes me think you’re mad at me. Besides, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” Steve bites.

“Sorry, Steve. I’m not mad. I promise. Just, what do you mean?” Eddie’s head tilts to the side, his curls cascading down his shoulder. It reminds Steve of a river, dark water rippling in the moonlight.

“I was so shocked, Eds. When he said that. That I was quiet, I should have corrected him, maybe. Maybe I could have fixed it. But Tucker was so quick to act. He was pissed. He knows my working for my dad means me being set up to take over. And Tucker, he’s worked too hard to make sure he does get the business. But instead of yelling, he just gets this concerned look on his face. And he…”

“He what?”

Steve wrenches his eyes shut as he recalls the rest. As he recalls the way Tucker’s face faked worry as he struck. Like he has been waiting for the right moment to ruin Steve. He manages to open his eyes eventually, only to see Eddie’s face once again. The honest look on his face is enough to push Steve on.

“In the summer, Robin was feeling sad. This was before you guys knew about each other, and I was the only one who knew about her. And she was sad cause nothing had happened with Vicky and she felt so alone. And I hated seeing her like that. And so, so I took her to Indy. And, and—“ Steve starts to hyperventilate.

Eddie takes him by the shoulders. “Breathe for me, Steve. Come on, baby, match my breaths. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Steve matches Eddie’s breath. Ignores how the word baby calms him down instantly. “Tucker told my dad that he saw me in Indy. That he saw me come out of a gay club, Eddie. And he went on about how they should focus more on getting me help, than putting me in a power position, again Eds, which I don’t even want! And how I would be a bad look for the company. How would it look if a company whose whole image is family values, only successor, turned out to be gay.”

Eddie flinches a bit, but doesn’t let go of him. Steve feels instant regret. “That isn’t what I meant, Eddie.”

Eddie shushes him, “I know, sweetheart. You’re just upset. I know. Did you tell him that you weren’t there for you? Or maybe that Rick was mistaken; it was a regular club?”

Steve rubs a hand down his face, “And what? Tell him that my two best friends in the entire world are gay? So that I can be shipped off to New York and never see them again? Yeah right. I’d rather face the bats again than be removed from you two. And I’m not going to out you guys like that.”

Something warm crosses Eddie’s face, “So, you lied then?”

“Before I could say anything my dad reacted.”

Eddie freezes, a darkness swims in his eyes. “He put his hands on you?”

“No, no!” Steve panics, and he purposely leaves out the ‘not this time.’ Eddie isn’t necessarily a violent person. But he does have a protective streak. As admirable as it is, Steve doesn’t want him to get hurt.

Eddie relaxes but only slightly.

“He was actually pretty calm, which is even more terrifying. I expected him to yell, throw things. But instead he just turns and says, ‘Is this true, Steven?’. And what gets me is they didn’t even question why my cousin was anywhere near that club in the first place. Why did he see me there? Instead, he just asks me if it’s true. And it’s the first time in a long time, if ever, that my dad asks me this. He always just assumes I’ve fucked up. And this time, he really asked me about the truth. And I couldn’t, I couldn’t lie. I don’t know why, but it felt wrong to. So I didn’t. I just told him, ‘Yes. It’s true.’”

“Stevie…”

Steve throws out a bitter laugh, “And you know what? He still doesn’t freak out. He just tells me I have five minutes to get my shit and get out. That I needed to call a ride because the car was under the name Steve Harrington, and I was no longer a Harrington. And he was so calm. And my mom just sat there, and I just listened. I didn’t fight. I am so tired of fighting.”

“Steve, why not just tell them the truth? Tell them you were there for a friend?” Eddie’s tone isn’t scolding, only curious.

“See, that’s because I started thinking about hummingbirds, Eddie. I started thinking about how they fly forwards and backward and how they are the only ones that can do that. Isn’t that fascinating? These small birds are so strong and interesting, and can do something no one else can do. But no other birds understand; the rest of them just fly forwards Eds. And I—I feel like that sometimes. That I’m not flying in one direction, ya know?”

Steve feels like he isn’t making much sense, but then Eddie nods and looks at Steve. Like really looks at Steve, and sees him. And Steve feels raw, stripped of his skin, exposed, and it should hurt, but it feels so fucking good. And Eddie stares deep into Steve’s eyes and says, “Yea, I know.”

“I didn’t want to lie. Because even though Tucker was wrong, he was also right. I wasn’t there for me, but I think I needed to be there. To get it. And I think that I’m flying backward, Eds. And I’m worried it’s wrong of me, that it shouldn’t be allowed. And that there is no purpose to me flying backward if I can just go forwards. If I can just fly with the rest of them. But I don’t think, I don’t think I’ve ever really taken flight before. Not before I understood I could also go backward.”

It’s in this moment, where Steve is covered in tears and snot that Eddie finally takes his hands and cradles Steve’s face. Steve’s never felt safer.

“Listen to me, sweetheart; there is nothing wrong with you. Okay? Nothing wrong with you. Just because you can fly forwards doesn’t mean you have to, doesn’t mean you should. Sometimes you’re going to have to fly backward; you’re not going to have a choice. It’s just the direction you’re fast, huge, hummingbird heart takes you. And it might take you a bit to learn that. To understand that, but I will make sure that you do. Because you, Steve Harrington, are fucking fearless and fucking beautiful, and I am so goddamn proud of you.”

Steve finally reaches his breaking point and collapses in Eddie’s arms. Full body, ugly sobs wreck Steve. He is sure that he is soaking Eddie’s favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt to the bone, but he can’t find it himself to care. His fingers dig into Eddie’s back as he clutches tighter as his breathing picks up.

“Breathe, baby, breathe. Remember that. I got you. I got you.” Eddie whispers into Steve’s ear.

Steve picks his head up when he finally calms down, and looks at Eddie. “You.”

“What’s that?” Eddie says softly, rubbing circles through Steve’s polo.

“I called you. Because, I think—no, I know, that I’ve been flying backward, to you. For a while now. And I knew that, even if you weren’t too, you’d still show up. And I just—just need you to know that. I am so grateful you showed up.”

Steve knows he should feel nervous telling Eddie all this, but he isn’t. He strangely feels like his dad at this moment, calm and unmoving. Steve doesn’t understand many things in this world, but he understands that even if Eddie doesn’t love him like that, Eddie still loves Steve in plenty of other ways.

It’s still nice, though, when Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve’s forehead. Steve closes his eyes and releases a breath.

Eddie slides his head down slightly so their foreheads are pushed together affectionately. “Stevie, I’ll always fly backward to you.”

Although it’s awful how they got here, Steve can’t help but feel happy at this moment. He also can’t help the silly giggle that comes out of him, “I think we have just lost all meaning to this metaphor at this point.”

Eddie snorts, “Oh, have we? And here I thought we were having a nice moment, a poetic one at that, telling each other ‘I love you.’”

Steve blinks at him, “You love me?”

Eddie frown lines finally turn upwards, “Yea baby, I love you.”

“I—“

Eddie cuts Steve off. “Tell me in the morning. When your tears have dried, and I’ve woken up with you in my arms. I want to hear it in the daylight. Okay? Let’s go home.” Eddie stands, offering a hand to Steve.

“Home?”

“Yea home, got to fly back to our nest.”

Steve can’t help the snort he releases, “Dork.”

Eddie just smiles, “Thought I told you to save the ‘I love you’ til the morning.”

Steve smiles back as he takes Eddie’s hand, “I didn’t…”

Eddie squeezes Steve’s fingers, “Yea, ya did.”

****

I’m back, not dead, and in my feelings. Thinking about expanding on this one. I hope you guys like it. 🧡🧡

#steddie #stranger things #Steve eventually gets a hummingbird tattoo #everything I write is soft #they deserve to be soft #bisexual steve harrington #gay eddie munson #cw: implied homophobia #cw: internalized homophobia #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #robin buckley #steve x eddie #soft boys #post s4 #bisexuality awareness

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richi3tozier · 2 years

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@noctiivagus + PENNYWISE / ❛ throttle . aggressively wrap your hands around my muse’s throat .

the faint sound of buttons pressing in rapid succession with the street fighter theme sneaks up on you, and then suddenly you’re in a memory. you, a boy, a few rounds of this game on that warm summer day. you remember how you felt. the anticipation building toward your next win and the desperation to keep the games going because you had liked how having another boy to play with had made you feel. equivalent to how a girl should, you’d imagine. all soft smiles and lingering touches, a certain excitement touching your eyes.

the warmth had been snuffed out just as quickly. fucking bowers and the words that made you hate yourself to your very core, and you remember the way you had rushed out of here just as the door creaks open in real time.

WHAT THE FUCK?

“ eddie? “ you’re obviously fucking baffled, brows pulling together as you blink back the tears you hadn’t even realize were stinging at your eyes. “ we’re supposed to be doing this whole soul - searching thing alone, y’know? how the fuck did you even find me? “

banter is easy enough to fall into, but you can’t shake the feeling that something is very wrong here. you’ll blame it on the fact that you’ve just remembered things you’d suppressed, urges you’ve never really allowed yourself to act on, and feelings you have no fucking idea how you could’ve ever forgotten. everything does feel fucking intense right now and the tension you feel rising between you and him feels more suffocating than the dust that’s collected in this abandoned theater.

you shove the token in your pocket and go to side step around him, but his hand comes up to press into your chest and stop you. eyes shift from his hand that lingers to his eyes, but there’s something different there. something colder, and when he speaks it’s even worse. there’s no fucking way he could know, but he’s saying he does, he did, he always has, and you have the overwhelming instinct to get the fuck out of here.

you try to shove past him, but his hand shoots up to grasp around your neck and there’s a strained gasp involuntarily falling from you as you’re shoved harshly into the arcade machine. MAYBE I SHOULD FUCKING TELL THEM, RICHIE. MAYBE I SHOULD TELL THEM HOW FUCKING SICK YOU ARE. you watch in horror as eyes begin to morph from honey brown to golden, firm lips nothing but all toothy and razor sharp now. you reach out for hands to shove into the now distorted version of him, gasping for each breath that your body desperately tries to take in. “ GET ---- GET THE FUCK ---- OFF OF ME! “

#noctiivagus #i. ACT TWO / A STUDY IN : 𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃.#hehehe thank u for this #internalized homophobia cw #homophobia cw

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strangersteddierthings · 8 months

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The thing is, Steve has learned, that becoming untouchable isn't all he wants it to be.

People were too quick to try and reach out for him, ask for more than he was willing to give. He hadn't wanted to give up his first kiss to some random girl at some random boy's twelfth birthday party because of spin the bottle. He hadn't wanted to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with Jenny Jackson or Linda Simons at Tommy's birthday party the following year. He did want to take Mary Linscott to Snow Ball, but she just wanted to make out behind the bleachers instead of dance with him. He didn't want to do that but then Brian called him stupid for not wanting to, and asked if he was queer. So, Steve had turned right back around and dragged Mary back under the bleachers, kissing her until it was time to go to prove Brian wrong.

(Even though Steve knows Brian isn't wrong. That Steve had wanted to ask Brian to the dance as much as he'd wanted to ask Mary but knew better than to do that. He saw how they treated Eddie Munson last year for the suspicion of liking other boys and Steve wasn't going to let that happen to himself.)

Brian had congratulated him after and asked what base he got to. Steve didn't want to get to any bases, but he couldn't say that, so he just punched Brian in the arm and said 'more bases than you' which was true because Brian's date didn't kiss him even once.

Then Carol Perkins approached him at lunch, shortly after Snow Ball, and asked if Steve would be her first kiss. Not because she wanted to kiss Steve, but because she wanted to kiss Tommy H, but didn't want to be bad at kissing. Steve agreed because he liked Carol. Not in the way she liked Tommy, but mostly because she'd asked.

No one had done that yet.

She came over to his house on a Saturday because she didn't want Tommy to catch them and think she didn't like him. They made out in his room because, despite his parents being home, they didn't really care who was in his room with him or if the door was open or shut. Probably didn't even notice he had someone over. She leaves an hour later.

By Tuesday Tommy and Carol are an item and by Friday they were Steve's best friends.

However, for reasons Steve doesn't understand, more girls keep asking him to be their first kiss. And maybe it's because he's already got a reputation, or maybe Carol let slip he'd said yes when she asked, but Steve finds himself kissing a lot of girls he doesn't want to. He doesn't know how to say no. Can't find a reason too. Brian's words play in the back of his mind every time he thinks about saying no.

(Are you stupid? Are you queer? He doesn't want to be either of those things, and given his grade in biology and pre-algebra, he's really only got a hope of avoiding the queer label. His father would tolerate a stupid son. He doesn't think he'd survive if his father had a queer one.)

There are a few girls he's been crushing on that ask him and that was nice. One, Alice Baker, even becomes his girlfriend for a month. His first relationship.

Soon eighth grade gives way to being a freshman and Steve, who has always been handsome and cute, catches the eye of upperclassmen now.

And Steve's not sure how it happens, but he ends up moving past first base with another girl whose name he can't remember, or possibly never knew. He doesn't remember asking her for hers when she led him into one of the bedrooms at the house this party was at while he was way too tipsy.

And then it just grows. The reputation and what people expect from him, and he doesn't want it, but he's never said no before so can he start now? Doesn't he need a reason to say no? If he doesn't have a reason, does that make him queer? He should be wanting this. What boy doesn't want this?

And maybe he does want it. But not like this.

He doesn't want to be slightly drunk at yet another party, following the first girl that grabs his wrist and pulls him after her into whatever secluded area they can find. He doesn't want to keep saying yes when he wants to say no.

The summer between freshman and sophomore year he confides in Carol. It's a risk. Carol can be cruel, quick with her words to tear you down, to spread the rumor that will ruin your life. But she's also fiercely loyal.

He tells her he's tired of kissing people he doesn't want to.

Carol is quiet for a long time, and Steve almost thinks he's made a mistake. But then she speaks.

"Okay. Let's make a plan."

And they do. Then suddenly Steve is untouchable. Carol teaches him how to see the weakness in people and call it out. How to wield his facial expressions as a weapon and a shield. How to put on the air of being the most important person everywhere you go so well that everyone else begins to believe it. How to fall back on the fact his parents are rich, gone often, and, almost most importantly, well known in the community. It gives Steve's name a weight to throw around.

More importantly, all of that culminates in people no longer asking things of him. Instead, they look to him to take the lead, they wait to be asked. It makes Steve feel in charge of his life for once.

But now.

Now, years later, having survived a spring break from Hell and averted the apocalypse, Steve watches Eddie hang off Argyle with ease, fling an arm over Jonathan's shoulder while laughing at a joke, easily pull Dustin into a headlock or wrestling match.

Easy touches that Steve should be able to do, too. A jealousy wells inside him almost as much as the unease he feels in his stomach at the mere thought of letting them know they're allowed to reach out and touch him, too. That Eddie's allowed to reach out and touch.

But then he remembers what happened when he let people have that power over him and he can't bring himself to do it.

It settles in Steve, then, the realization. When you become untouchable, you're unable to touch.

@nburkhardt @i-less-than-three-you adding my own lil bit of angst into the mix now (:

#pre steddie #my fic #cw dubious consent #internalized homophobia #steve kisses a lot of people he doesnt want to because of peer pressure and his own fear of not fitting in #it is also implied steve has sex with people when he didnt really want to #steve harrington has bad parents #touch-starved steve #also if you know the song that last line is from i am smooching the top of your head softly

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familiaanteomnia · 2 years

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Overall he really didn’t mind how he’d been dressed up, the being dragged into humoring his younger twin by tagging along for some concert. Nathan’s twin was after all highly considerate in giving multiple options instead of just being stubbornly set on specific wardrobe outcome. Which explained swapping the blue jacket, for a black varsity jacket and his regular jeans for black ripped ones. The smudged black eyeliner an non issue. So, the only catch was really the boots which he had chosen but he’d randomly remember that they were tall as hell and associated thoughts regarding it. Namely he’d recall they weren’t all black as the buckles were rainbow and slightly panic about his own choice. Thankfully his phone lit up and he quickly exited out of his dorm room. Locking the door before heading towards the entrance to the dorm. Attention fully on his phone to try keep up with the chaotic spam and lack of patience from his twin. So it took an few minutes to register that his name had actually been said by somebody. Not just his thoughts or anything. “What?”

#♥ i don’t think i can live without you. 》 open starters #internalized homophobia cw #(blue jacket nate except- except its punkified heading to a concert nate)#(me constantly thinking about The Boots and now aside them being a thing xav owns we're having nate wear them because im so very gay)#(for the thought of him in them)#(now to go oggle the boots and be sad i guess)

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the-sappho-of-lesbos · 2 years

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Source: Love Shook My Heart; New Lesbian Love Stories - edited by Irene Zahava

#f slur tw #d slur tw #cw internalized homophobia #homophobia #internalised homophobia #coming out #lgbt #bisexual #gay #lesbian #lgbt literature #image #photo #personal

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armoricaroyalty · 2 years

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Rosalind: So you had an affair, is that it? Mary: That’s part of it, yeah. It was more complicated than — Rosalind: Who was she? Mary: Are you jealous? Rosalind: ...maybe a little.

Mary, in voiceover: [chuckling] If you must know, her name was Hitomi Takuda. She’s a marine biologist, she was in Sulani to doing fieldwork for her masters’ thesis about salt-water fish. Rosalind, in voiceover: ...I see.

Mary, in voiceover: So yes, I had an affair. With a woman. And I realized exactly what it was I’d spent so long waiting for.

Mary, in voiceover: [teasingly] It wasn’t a real relationship, if that makes you feel better. We both knew we weren’t in love, but I’ll always be grateful to her.

Mary: I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how incredible it felt to be out. I’d been lying to myself for years, and having that weight lifted, finally getting to be myself, openly and honestly....there aren’t words to describe it. Those few weeks in Sulani were the first time in my life I’d been truly happy.

Mary, in voiceover: Back home, though...things weren’t going well.

Previous | Chapter Start | From the Beginning | Next

#armorica story #chapter 2 #behind the scenes #chapter 2 part 1 #character: mary yokoyama #character: noah sato #character: hitomi #internalized homophobia cw

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frenchfrywrites · 2 months

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it keeps repeating, will you please complete me?

MINORS DNI

Warnings: top cis male reader (implied switch), bottom Leona Kingscholar, internalized homophobia, self discovery, mild angst maybe?, gay awakening, very lowkey armpit/scent kink (?), blowjobs, eating ass, safe sex (a lil? Could be safer lmao), situationship turned relationship

“You've been staring at me a lot lately,” you'd meant it playfully, flirting with him as you've been doing for months, finally working up the nerve to call him on it. It started with little glances now and then, but for the last few weeks he's hardly taken his eyes off you. You've jerked yourself off too many nights in a row thinking about his beautiful brown eyes staring you down in the locker room.

Leona only ever willingly studies if you're there with him. He's a godawful study partner, when he does cram with you. He'll do anything but study. Usually he sleeps or bitches about something unimportant, but today he's been gazing at you— nearly unblinking— for the last 5 minutes. It's distracting.

You'd meant it lightly, trying to be cute, expecting him to blush and confess, but Leona looks scared. So often he boasts about being a predator, but right now he looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

“No I haven't,” he growls, “I'm not-” he swallows, his gaze hardening, “I haven't.”

This is not the reaction you'd thought you'd get, so your brows furrow in confusion.

“Uh yes you have? It's okay,” you smile, touching his hand with your own, “I've been looking too, you know” Leona jerks his hand away.

“I'm not gay,” he insists. And that makes you pause.

“I never said you were,” you reassure, “I only said you've been looking. That's okay,” relief slowly returns to his body. He clears his throat,

“Yeah? It's not weird?” He asks, sounding so unsure it makes your heart break. You remember this, what it felt like to start looking— so to speak— for the first time.

“Not at all. You can look all you want,” you hum, smiling softly, “I'd let you touch if you wanted, too,” you admit with a hum. Leona flushes, gazing at you openly now that he has permission.

The two of you leave it at that for now. You'll bet money that whatever this is will snowball into something more, but you're content if all he wants to do is look for now.

The conversation comes back up again, as you thought (hoped) it might. Leona comes to you after gym, once the locker room has been cleared out. His hair is up, which is an unnecessary detail to note, except for the fact that it makes him look all the more handsome in your eyes. It also reveals his face to you, leaving him nothing to hide behind.

He stands there silently for a second, completely still beside you, his gaze heavy and predatory. Your bag is packed, and you go to grab it and leave, since he hasn't said or done anything, but the sound of Leona's voice stops you.

“You said it was okay to touch.” It isn't a question. Confusion lasts for a second and then you're nodding, remembering exactly what it was that you said to him.

“Sure.” You set your bag down and turn to him, offering your body to his curious eyes and hands.

“It's fine, as long as we don't kiss,” he decides, placing his hands hesitantly on your pecs. You hum, absentmindedly. Whatever it takes not to scare him away.

“Take your shirt off,” he demands, tugging at the fabric. You do as you're told, your hands trembling slightly and your cheeks hot with flush.

Leona pokes and prods, pressing a finger against your nipple, cupping your chest like they’re boobs, feeling up your biceps, then lifting your arm to inspect your pits. He steps into your personal space— so close you could kiss him, but you won't— squinting at the hair there.

Then his face is pressed oh so close to your armpit, and he's smelling you. You almost can't believe that he's doing this and claiming not to be into you, or men in general. It takes everything in you not to laugh at how this seems like a bad gay porno come to life.

“You smell so much different than the girls I've been with,” he hums, pulling away to look at you as he says it.

“I imagine,” your voice comes out deep and quiet. Leona licks his lips, his tail flicking from side to side. Before you can say anything more he busies himself elsewhere, taking notice of your cock tenting your gym shorts.

He tugs your pants open, peering inside, then hums, impressed. He looks up at you, seemingly for permission; you nod, granting it.

Tugging your waistband down, he wraps his hand around your cock. You sigh softly, leaning against the lockers, and reaching out to hold onto his arm to ground yourself. As if magnetized to you, Leona leans further into your space, so close you can feel his breath against your skin as he holds you in his hand.

“It's weird touching another guy's…” he trails off, leaving the words unfinished as he rubs his thumb over your tip.

“None of the girls…” he trails off again, “well, maybe some of them did have dicks, I dunno,” he seems to be talking to himself, but you hum as if you're listening, “sometimes they just wanted to suck me off, y'know?” Your heartbeat is pounding so hard in your ears that you can barely even hear him, but you nod anyway. You choke on your spit before stammering,

“Is that something you'd want to do?” And you know you're pushing hard against the lines of the imagined box that Leona has trapped himself in, but the look he's giving you right now emboldens you.

He holds you tight in his fist, glaring you down, thinking it through, and then he's shrugging and falling to his knees before you.

“Whatever, sure,” he scoffs, “I just want to see what all the fuss is about.” You nearly laugh at that, instead giving him a sincere smile.

“Yeah, I get it,” you reach over to dig a condom out of your bag, “I like giving head,” you add, passing it to him. Shock morphs into frustration on Leona's face so quickly, if you blinked you would've missed it. He snatches the condom from your hand.

“Whose dicks are you sucking?” and oh, ain't that cute. He's jealous.

“Nun'ya,” Leona scoffs, and opens the condom, ignoring your bait. As he rolls the condom onto your length you mumble “nun'ya business,” to yourself, despite him not falling for your bit.

“If you keep annoying me, I'll bite you,” he threatens, smirking while showing off his canines. You tug on his hair, and Leona laughs out loud.

“So…” he hesitates now that he's so close to your cock, “what do I do?”

“What do you like?” you prompt, holding his head softly, mostly to have something to do with your sweaty, shaking hands. Leona returns his attention to your dick, sizing it up, before kissing his way from your tip down to the base. His hands station themselves awkwardly on your thighs, his thumbs digging into your inner thighs, causing a tingle to run along your skin.

Leona inhales your scent, completely beside himself, then sucks your head into his mouth. He'd joked earlier about his teeth, but he's very conscious of keeping them clear of your dick as he sinks you deeper into his throat.

He's a natural, taking you deep into his throat, sucking and swallowing around you like he's been dying to get a taste of you. His eyes flutter shut and his tail sways steadily from side to side as he begins to bob his head up and down along your length.

“Fuck,” you hiss, “feels good.” Leona hums at the praise, laving his tongue along the underside of your cock. He pulls up to suckle on your tip, taking a moment to catch his breath. His hand comes to stroke the bit of you that's not occupying his mouth.

You're unable to hold back soft moans and whimpers as he sucks you off, and they echo along the locker room walls. Thank god you're the only two in here.

Leona's quick to get you back down his throat, choking a bit along the way, but quickly recovering. If you weren't so focused on him you might've missed it, but you catch the soft purring coming from him. You rub the spot behind his ears, far too affectionate for what he's doing and how he came about doing it, but Leona leans into your touch, moaning along your length.

“Shit, I'm not gonna last much— hah — longer,” you confess. Leona hums in acknowledgement, bringing one hand to fondle your balls. “Leona,” you gasp, warning him as a shudder courses its way through your body, and then you curl forward, caging him in and holding his head flush against your cock while you fill the condom.

It's only when your body feels limp and sluggish with post-orgasmic haze that you release him and lean back against the lockers.

Leona coughs once your soft cock leaves his mouth, peeling off the condom, tying it off, before tossing it into the nearest trash can. You reach a hand out to help him up, and Leona takes it, shakily rising to his feet. He's hard, his cheeks flushed as he wipes drool from his chin. Pride is radiating from him as he gives you a smug grin.

“Yeah,” he coughs again, his voice thoroughly fucked, “I get why girls wanna do that.” Again, Leona doesn’t give you the chance to get a word in edgewise before he's turned around, and is swiftly making his way out of the locker room. “Thanks,” he calls just before the door can close behind him.

You stare at the door for a solid minute before tucking yourself back into your pants and sighing so loudly it echoes against the walls. You're so fucked for indulging in whatever the hell you've got going on with him. But if it leads to him blowing you more, you really can't complain.

“You said you suck dick?” Leona's question comes so suddenly out of nowhere, and he says it so nonchalantly that for a moment you honestly believe you've misheard him. The two of you are in the middle of a chess game in Leona's room, having not spoken about him sucking on your dick since it happened a couple of days ago. If it weren't for the evidence of your missing condom, you might've written it off as a particularly good and realistic wet dream.

“Yeah,” you move your rook, capturing his knight. Leona growls at your success, and goes quiet as he thinks. Naively, you assume that's the end of it.

“You'd suck mine?” he asks, finally moving his bishop near one of your pawns. It takes everything inside of you not to rush out a “yes,” showing him just how desperate you are. You pretend to think about it for a moment.

“Yeah,” you push your chair away from the table, “right now?” Leona shrugs,

“If you want to.” He sounds like he's doing you a favor, but his tail wagging excitedly and the excited grin on his face gives him away. He pushes his chair back and you get yourself between his legs.

Gently, you undo his pants, and pull his cock out. You drool, finally getting a good look at him. All you've had up until this point are crumbs, glances when he's changing before gym, and the tent you caught when he'd walked away with a hard on after sucking you off.

“Nice,” you hum, to quell any insecurity he may be having. Leona grins, his chest puffing up with pride. You stroke him to full hardness easily (a little too easily. You seriously wonder how long he's going to claim he's not into men).

“You got a condom?” you ask. Leona bristles,

“Shit—”

“When's the last time you had sex?” you ask, despite part of you not wanting to know the answer. He avoids eye contact,

“Been a couple'a months,” he huffs. You continue stroking him,

“You've gotten tested?” He nods,

“Yeah, 'm good,” you grin up at him,

“Me too,” you state before taking him into your mouth. Leona swears, his hands flying to your head. Hid dick may be impressive, but you're a good cocksucker, and take him down your throat with ease.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, staring down at you with wide eyes as you start sucking him off properly. Your hands roam, massaging his hairy thighs, rubbing circles into his flesh as you drool and swallow along his length. Even if you weren't harboring a dangerous crush on him, you think you'd worship Leona's cock all the same; his dick fits so nicely in your mouth, and his reactions have you hard and leaking in your pants, it'd only make sense to give him your best.

He's moaning your name, his voice cracking and pleading, leaking pre into your mouth, his hips jerking involuntarily, his hands tight on your head, purring up a storm. Selfishly, you want him changed from your blowjob. You don't want him looking at girls any more, you want him addicted to your mouth. You want to do something special for him.

You pull off his cock suddenly, and Leona whines openly, a “please,” nearly falling from his lips. He swallows his words when you rub his tip against your lips, stroking him, then kissing his groin. Your other hand, the one not stroking his cock, presses lightly against his rim.

Leona twitches, looking down at you with wide eyes. He looks fucked dumb just from having your mouth on him. Sweat drenched hair clings to his forehead, his mouth is open and panting, his chest heaving.

“Anyone ever put their mouth here?” you purr. Leona shakes his head dumbly. “Want me to?” He audibly gulps before nodding.

With his permission, you nestle yourself under his dick, and lick his hole.

“Fuck” he gasps, pre leaks like a faucet from his tip as you lick and massage his rim. You get him wet with saliva and drool. It'd be better with lube, and you'll apologize for the dull ache that will come later, but you're able to slip in a finger. At first, Leona tenses at the intrusion, and then as you lick and wiggle your finger he relaxes and opens up for you. He melts into the chair, his cock twitching as you continue to stroke him off.

He's close, and you'd rather not get cum in your hair or on your face, so you keep fingering him as your mouth returns to his cock. You take him down your throat, and curl your finger towards his prostate.

“Fuck— fuck, oh god, cumming, gonna cum, ah,” his orgasm must've sneaked up on him, because that's all the warning you get before he's filling your mouth. He flutters around your finger, his hips weakly thrusting his cock further down your throat as he rides out his orgasm. You steal a glance up at him as you swallow his cum, and you know you're going to be committing his face to memory, and jacking off thinking about it later.

“Off,” he murmurs softly once he goes soft in your mouth. You let his cock out of your mouth slowly, gently pulling your finger from his ass.

“Good?” you check, doing him the favor of pulling his pants up. Leona wipes the sweat from his brow, nodding.

“Yeah, you were alright,” he states. You laugh (because you know damn well that was better than “alright”) getting to your feet. Leona immediately looks at your hard cock tenting your pants. You almost expect him to ask to return the favor, but he pulls his gaze away from you, and back to the chessboard.

“Your turn,” he mumbles.

With a smile, you sit back down in your chair, and think about everything and anything that'd make your erection go away.

It only takes a day for Leona to knock on your door. He looks slightly awkward, a little embarrassed, but not ashamed.

“Can I come in?” he asks. You step back to let him in. He's quiet for a good second, avoiding eye contact.

“I can't stop thinking about it,” he finally states.

“It” of course being your finger in his ass.

“Neither could I, when I first tried anal,” you admit, plopping yourself down on a chair in the living room. Leona follows you, sitting stiffly on a chair close to yours. His typical lazy attitude is all gone right now, and honestly it's a little unsettling.

“You've tried it?” He asks.

You give him a look, one that says “are you kidding?” without you ever having to say the words. Leona huffs, knowing the question was a dumb one.

“How 'm I supposed to know you bottom,” he mumbles to himself, then turns to you, trying (and failing) to look smug and confident, “can I fuck you?” His lack of tact makes you crinkle your nose with ire.

“No,” you pause for a moment, considering it, imagining it. Your cock twitches with interest. “Not yet at least. You've done enough of sticking your dick in holes,” and now Leona's looking more comfortable. He looks hungry, staring you down. You try not to think too hard about how that’s all this all started.

“Anyways,” you rest your head on your hand, looking him down, “aren't you here to get fucked?” He chokes on his spit,

“No,” he snaps, then swallows and looks away, “I mean, I don't know, maybe?” and then he's looking at you all hopeful. He's so cute it makes you want to scream.

“C'mere,” you pat your lap, testing him. Leona does as he's told, straddling you, clearly very unsure of himself. You can't have that.

You let one hand hold his thigh gently, as one goes to touch the spot behind his ear, the place you petted when he sucked you off and purred. That seems to calm him down a bit, and he looks at you expectantly.

“Listen, if you want this, that's alright, but you gotta stop pretending you're something you're not,” Leona bites his lip, “I don't want you acting like you don't want this.” He nods, understanding. He swallows heavily,

“I don't know what I am,” he confesses quietly, barely above a whisper, “I don't know, I just know I—” he nearly looks like he's going to bolt. “I just like you, and I like how you make me feel. I want this,” with a shaky breath he continues, “I want you to fuck me.” You give him a reassuring smile,

“That's all I needed to hear, sweetheart,” Leona visibly relaxes at the pet name, “you don't have to know what you are, or whatever, I just needed to hear you be honest with yourself,”

“Fuckin' corny,” he huffs, but he's smiling down at you, more relaxed than you've seen him in weeks. You think he needed to be honest with himself more than you needed to hear it. You squeeze his thigh and ignore his comment,

“I like you too, and I want to kiss you,” you add. Leona nods, leaning down to capture your lips. It's sweet, and you're grateful you're able to do this before you fuck him stupid.

He takes the lead, deepening the kiss by licking against your lips. You tug on his hair, pressing your tongue into his mouth, licking inside until the two of you are panting. When you pull back to get a good look at him, a string of saliva connects your mouths. Leona's pupils are blown wide, and his hands hold onto the front of your shirt.

“I couldn't stop thinking about your mouth,” he whispers, whimpering when your hand comes down from his head to cup his face. He leans into your touch, opening his mouth when you press your finger against his bottom lip.

It's astounding how much more eager and pliant he is now that he's open with how he feels. He wants you bad, and it's obvious.

“Tell me more,” you prompt, caressing his face as your other hand presses against the tent in the front of his pants.

“As soon as you left, I had to jerk off again. I—” he hiccups a moan, grinding into your touch, “I tried to put my fingers inside again, but it didn't feel the same. It was good, but not enough,” his claws dig into the fabric of your shirt.

“Cute,” you murmur, and Leona's eyes widen. You wonder if any of the girls he's slept with ever dared to call him cute before. “I wanna take my time with you,” Leona whines at this, shaking his head in protest, “hey,” you squeeze his cock roughly, and he keens, “I said I want to take my time with you, but I guess I'll go slow next time, because you're aching for it, huh darling?” you coo, teasing him. Leona nods all the same, letting out a purr at the promise of a next time.

“You've waited so long already, haven't you?” you murmur, tugging on the hem of his shirt. Leona practically tears it off for you. The hand that was on his face moves to play with one of his nipples as you kiss him again.

“Fuck me,” he demands, against your lips, “fuckin' please,” he adds, halfheartedly.

“Get undressed for me,” you help him off your lap, smirking at how he takes a moment to find the strength to stand, and leave him— with a kiss before you go of course— to grab condoms and lube. Before you know it, you're naked on the chair, with Leona in your lap, holding onto your shoulders, slightly digging his nails into your skin.

“Alright baby, lift your hips a bit,” you instruct, so you can slip your now lubed fingers between his cheeks. Leona does as he's told, sighing when you press your fingers against his hole.

“Gotta relax,” you remind him, moving his hair to the side so you can kiss at the place where his shoulder and neck meet. Leona wraps his arms further around your neck and slumps his weight against you, his cock hard and leaking against your abdomen.

“Yes,” he gasps as one finger slips past his tight ring of muscle and inside of him. “Yeah,” he moans, as it sinks deeper into him. You rub and press against his insides, and it's not long before you can slip in another finger.

“Ungh,’ he chokes when you scissor and fuck your fingers deeper into him, curling into his prostate, “yeah, yeah, more, fuck,” he babbles, grinding himself against your hand. His tail flicks from side to side, and he nuzzles into your skin, letting his canines graze your flesh as you stretch him open for your cock.

“Fuck me, I want it, I need it, please,” he whines once you get a third finger inside of him.

“Just a little longer,” you promise, feeling him rut and leak against your stomach. Leona growls, his patience running thin. You keep your word, and after a minute or so you slowly slip your fingers from him.

Leona sits back on your lap, quickly tearing open a condom and sliding it over your cock. He messily slathers lube along your shaft and then hoists himself up. With your help, your cock slides between his ass, and the tip presses against his hole.

“Let me know if it hurts,” you state, kissing his cheek gently. Leona purrs, lowering himself onto your cock. He cries out when the tip of your cock pops into him, and slides down fairly quickly onto your dick. He takes it like a champ, gasping and moaning like a bitch in heat as you fill him up.

“Oh my god,” he whispers once he's fully seated in your lap. You bite your lip, using every inch of energy to not thrust your hips up and fuck him. You let him adjust to the sensation.

Leona clings to you, panting, eyes wide. “Oh my god,” he whines again, “there's so much— it feels so— hah,” he buries his face into your shoulder, moaning your name, “move, please, fuck me,” he begs softly.

“Leona,” you moan, holding his hips gently and bucking your hips into him. Leona goes limp on top of you, which you expected. Part of you wishes you'd moved this to the bedroom, that you had him in missionary, or even doggy style instead, because fucking him like this is a lot of work. Luckily, you don’t think either of you will last long.

“You’re doing so well for me,” you pant, squeezing and massaging his hips, “taking me so good, like you’re made for takin’ my dick, baby,” Leona flutters around you, keening at that. He’s purring and moaning and drooling on your shoulder, taking all you give him.

It doesn’t take long at all for Leona. You wonder if he’ll be embarrassed about it later, but he cums within minutes, without warning, spilling all over your stomach with a weak moan of your name. You fuck him through it, and then still when he shivers. He moans, then whines, then finally groans,

“Don’t you dare fuckin’ take your cock out of me.” Your hips twitch at his words, and lust pools within your loins. You don’t know how long you sit like that, with Leona warming your cock, catching his breath.

“Keep fucking me,” it’s supposed to come off like a demand, but it sounds more like a plea. You obey, slowly fucking him, getting closer and closer to finishing. “Cum, inside of me, fuck me ‘til–” he chokes as your head brushes against his prostate, “until you’ve cum, fuck me,” he moans.

“Gonna-ah cum,” you murmur, as you fuck him faster with each thrust, chasing your orgasm. Leona whimpers,

“Please,” and it sends you over, lodging yourself deep inside of him and fucking your cum into the condom.

“Good?” you ask once your hips still and you find your voice again. Leona nods,

“Yeah, I guess,” he finally dislodges himself from your shoulder, leaning back and smiling at you, “I don’t know though. Maybe you should fuck me again so I can see if I really like it or not,” he flips his hair over his shoulder, and you’re half surprised he doesn’t wink to really sell the act he’s putting on.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you huff, slapping his thigh gently. Leona laughs, his nose scrunching up cutely. “Let me clean you up, and then I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll forget your name.”

Leona stops laughing at that, and instead licks his lips. “I’ll hold you to it,” he says gruffly, sealing the promise by leaning in and kissing you.

#cw internalized homophobia #cw situationship #bottom leona kingscholar #spice #daylight savings fucking saved me yall istg its the only reason i got possessed to write this much #the winter depression is over <3 spring and love is here #PLEASE let me know if this needs other warnings i think i caught everything but idk #dont think too much abt the title its just lyrics from a nin song bc i cant think of anything clever

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ickypuppi3 · 1 year

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steve being overly tactile with billy when they become friends. slinging an arm around billy’s shoulder’s while they’re watching a movie. putting his hands on billy’s waist to move past him. tucking billy’s hair behind his ear to look at his earring. slipping a finger through the loop of billy’s jeans to tug him closer. grabbing billy’s chin to tilt his head because oh, you have freckles..

steve telling himself that sure he touches billy a lot but. he’s always been a touchy guy. it doesn’t mean anything.

steve not accepting that he has a crush on billy and that’s the reason he can’t keep his hands to himself.

because obviously steve isn’t a queer.

as if.

billy being simultaneously overwhelmed with and loving all the attention. because it’s steve. steve pressing his face into billy’s neck when they’re high. pulling billy’s hand close to play with his ring. running his hand over billy’s stomach when they pass out in the same bed and he thinks billy’s still asleep. tracing circles around billy’s ankle as he listens to billy read.

because it’s steve. steve who billy’s had a thing for since he arrived in hawkins. steve who can’t like billy like that. steve who isn’t like billy. steve who likes girls.

steve who called byers a queer.

billy wondering if this is just what it’s like to have a friend. a best friend. if this is just what you do. because billy doesn’t know. wouldn’t know. no one’s ever gotten close enough. billy thinking it’s all in his head. that he’s twisting his and steve’s relationship. making it into something it’s not.

steve staring at billy’s lips and wondering what it’d be like to touch them. billy wondering if steve’s gonna break his heart without even trying.

#thinking about how steve’s hands automatically went for the waist during the fight #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #internalised homophobia steve is literally so real to me you don’t even understand #just hits different idk #he’s not even being nasty this time not intentionally anyway he’s just repressed as hell #anyway #they are in LOVE goddammit #and billy is so touch starved #the lack of communication is insane #like #sort it out #my words #cw internalized homophobia #i don’t know where this came from #that’s a lie i was absolutely thinking about joe’s hands sorry #ickyspeaks

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gabessquishytum · 6 months

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Hello love! I’ve been having thoughts of Dream and Hob exploring their sexualities in… potentially unhealthy ways. I don’t think I’ll ever write it, so I’m tossing my scattered thoughts your way in the hopes you’ll be inspired, or perhaps someone else will be ;)

I was listening to “One of Your Girls” by Troye Sivan and was smacked in the head with the concept of young Dream going to a club and meeting Hob– who’s a very straight man, for the first time.

Hob is very much Dream’s type: warm and soft, an easy smile, strong yet kind, but something devious in his eyes. Especially with the way he’s been eyeing Dream from across the room. Dream saunters over to him and turns on the charm. He’s openly flirting, lightly touching Hob’s arm, complimenting how handsome he is, all to Hob laughing and blushing and acting almost… shy? Finally Hob, while not outright pushing Dream away, reveals to him that he’s flattered, but not interested in men.

Undeterred, Dream hums casually, taking a long swallow from his drink (making sure Hob watches), and leans fully into his space to speak sweetly in his ear.

“Are you sure?”

And when Hob turns his head to meet Dream’s gaze dead on, they are close enough to feel one another’s breath on their lips. Close enough that Dream can taste Hob’s anxiety mingled with excitement as his lips part and his eyes flick down briefly to Dream’s mouth and back.

Dream’s eyes flutter shut as Hob’s hand cups the side of his face, fingers soft under his jawline, and slowly leans in for a kiss that is so soft, so god damn careful, it nearly makes Dream shake.

Because, underneath his cool and confident facade, Dream is insecure. He’s young and is desperate to be loved. Hob isn’t the first straight man he’s fooled around with. Dream has always told men, and himself, that it was okay. That his body could be a safe space for them to explore their curiosities… even if it did leave him feeling strangely empty afterwards. The thrill of being the reason a straight man was questioning himself wore off pretty fast when they didn’t stay the night, didn’t call him back, or even indulge in a kiss.

But the first thing Hob does is kiss him. Slow, gentle, with his hands holding Dream’s face like he’s something precious and it shatters something in Dream. He almost whimpers as Hob pulls back, thumbs caressing his sharp cheekbones.

It was just a chaste thing, lips only, but Dream instantly wants more.

“Did you like that?” Dream asks, already dying to go back for more.

But Hob pauses, seeming to really consider it.

“I’m not sure. That was my first time kissing a man.”

So from here… we could go two directions:

Hob has his bi-awakening. Dream shows him everything he’s been missing. It’s sweet and they fall in love afterwards.

Or, my personal preference, angst.

Hob continues to be unsure. Dream and him spend more time together, but it’s more as friends. Dream lays off trying to get him into his bed, but it’s still very obvious he’s into him. Like, really obvious (lots of staring, “casual” touches, more experimental kissing that as they indulge in more and more, Hob breaks away with a loud gasp or frustrated sound because he’ll get his hands on Dream and feel his flat chest, the stubble on his face, or Dream’s low growl and shake his head “This isn’t working…”).

And finally Dream kind of breaks down and is like, “I could be a girl for you.” and dresses up in drag. He makes a very convincing woman and it’s almost embarrassing how into it Hob is, finally getting a proper erection the moment Dream walks into the room, high heels, makeup, wig, tucked and wearing fake breasts. He sucks Hob off before blindfolding him while Dream crawls up his lap and impales himself on Hob’s cock.

It gets messy from there. Dream developing feelings and Hob feeling even more confused about his sexuality than before. It’s like Dream, his friend, is a completely different person than the Dream that presents himself as feminine.

Maybe Hob grew up conservative and he’s still fighting back old repressed morals/values. Maybe he has internalized homophobia.

As you can see, my mind is everywhere. Not sure where to take it, and I don’t think I have the confidence to properly tackle this brainworm. So. here ya go *upends box all over the place and runs away*

First of all hello my love!! So great to see you here!!! And second of all, one of your girls is such a banger. I just have share my favourite line with you all: You should insure that waist / With the highest policy you can get

Iconic.

Anyway, this ask hurt my feelings so much but I LOVE IT. Repressed queer Hob is so interesting to me because it feels quite close to canon? As a character Hob is quite conservative/goes with the times. I think he's right about himself, he does have to make a big effort to change! Which is not a bad thing! But can be painful, I guess.

It definitely makes everything more complicated because Dream seems to be two different people. He's still Hob’s friend, his buddy, someone he trusts and respects. But he's also... someone else. A pretty thing in drag who knows exactly how Hob likes to be sucked off and who Hob fantasies about when he jerks off. It's not really Dream he's thinking of, but it kind of is? Those are Dream’s thighs wrapped around his waist, those are Dream’s lips, his tongue, his pert little arse.

Hob feels like a horrible person and like he should stop the whole thing, but every time he tries, Dream pouts his pink glossy lips and slides his freshly shaved thigh between Hob’s legs to rub against his cock. And Hob thinks well, one more time won't hurt. And the cycle continues.

Dream feels utterly destroyed by the fact that he just isn't enough for Hob. Because Hob is so nice to him! He never laughs at Dream, he's a proper friend to him, and a good lover too. It would be such a perfect relationship. But Hob never gets hard when they're curled up on the couch together in the daytime. They still try kissing sometimes, but Hob sometimes pulls away with his look on his face that just cuts Dream to his core.

So he keeps dressing up. Being Hob’s pretty little girl isn’t so bad. Hob is worth it. He's nothing like the other straight men who've tossed Dream away after one night of curiosity. And he really, genuinely isn't! He loves Dream, its just that the love is weighed down by all the stuff inside Hob’s head that tells him that he can't. He can't be gay. Not even for Dream. He can't open that door because he's fucking terrified of what's behind it.

I'm a sucker for an eventual resolution so I propose this: Hob finally does the right thing and breaks off the pseudo-relationship with Dream. He requests time apart and Dream is devastated, but resigned. Hob will move on and find himself a proper woman, he supposes. But Hob does not! He goes to therapy!

It's nearly a year until Hob shows up at Dream’s place. He apologies for everything that happened before - he was old enough to know better. Being fucked up by other people isn't an excuse to do fucked up shit. And he would like a chance to try again with Dream, but he doesn't expect or feel entitled to anything. It's not up to Dream to fix him.

Dream tries to take time to think it over, but the answer was always going to be yes. He's done some growing up in the last year, and he knows what he deserves: a loving, dedicated and respectful partner. He knows that Hob can be all of that. No more pretending and hiding. They're going to make it work.

#valeriianz #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw internalized homophobia

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