#tw internalized homophobia

[sister-lucifer]

Sorry but I NEED to hear the elaboration for tim x puppyboy reader in heat and the collage au toby x reader please if you can cuz I'm already dying to hear a snippet of it 😭

aww the puppyboy reader one is cute

poor baby reader is in heat when tim is at work, the first real job he’s had in a while, and they can’t take it. they call tim and beg him to come home, unable to take the need anymore despite knowing how important this job is. tim rushes home without hesitation, and he finds his puppyboy whining and begging to be touched and of course tim has to help them. reader is just so needy, pulling him to the bed while profusely apologizing for being such a bad puppy, pulling him away from work like a bad, bad dog.

tim shushes his puppyboy gently and assures him it’s okay, that they matter to him so much more that any silly job. now they just have to sit back and let him take care of them.

the college au toby x reader is the exact opposite.

reader is a sheltered, repressed christian boy who refuses to acknowledge all the gay thoughts he has. he has to room with toby in his dorm, and toby is not quiet about his queerness. he brings guys home and shamelessly flirts with reader, and reader can’t stand how much they like it!

they snap at him, saying he’s nothing but a sinning homosexual, a dirty, horrible man and that’s it!

toby corners them against the wall, leaning in close and whispering to them.

“if i’m a dirty, horrible man, then you’re going to be absolutely filthy when i’m done with you.”

and when he’s done and they’re both laying on the floor, reader tired and dazed, he acts like he’s about to lean in for a kiss. he pulls away at the last second, leaving reader floundering and confused.

“what?” toby snickers, “i didn’t think you’d want a kiss from a dirty homosexual like me. get yourself cleaned up, faggot.”

[if you wanna see more ideas like this you can find the list here]

#tw internalized homophobia #tw homophobia #i’ve got mail! #fic idea #fic ideas #ticci toby smut #creepypasta #ticci toby x reader smut #male reader #ticci toby x reader #marble hornets #tim wright #tim wright x reader

[weird-an]

Billy is straight. Steve is... just a phase. He's confused. Hawkins is wearing him down and he's finally fucking losing it.

Steve isn't Billy's boyfriend. They are just fucking. Billy doesn't miss him when he lies awake at night. Billy doesn't think of him every day.

But Billy's heart cracks a little when he sees Steve in the hallway, laughing at something Nancy Wheeler said. Suddenly jealousy is sitting sour and heavy on his chest.

A boy meets a girl and they fall in love. That's how the story is supposed to go. Billy has listened to it so many times. He just doesn't get why he can't see himself in there. But it will pass, for sure.

He hides under the bleachers, smoking a cigarette for lunch and maybe also avoiding Steve.

He finds him anyway. He always does. When Billy is running from himself, when Billy is trying not to be seen - Steve always sees him.

"Here you are," Steve says, looking behind him. The bell rings. They should go back to class. "I was looking for you."

"Were you?" Billy asks, tone as bitter as he feels.

He shouldn't be worked up about this. Steve's going to find a girl like Nancy again, because Billy and him aren't anything.

Billy isn't in love. Billy can't be in love, because if he is, he's fucked.

"Of course." The words sound so easy. Like it's the most natural thing for Steve to come looking for Billy.

"I missed you," Steve says. "I wanted to find you, but then Nancy.."

He stops. Mid sentence. Billy wonders what he sees in his eyes.

"You don't have to be jealous, Billy." Steve cups his face. "I'm not seeing anyone else."

What is Steve trying to say? There's nothing between them.

"You're not my -" Billy stops when Steve raises his brow.

"I'm not your what?" he asks, a smug smile ghosting over his lips.

Billy swallows dryly, heart fluttering. "Are you... my boyfriend?"

Steve grins at him, bright and happy.

"I have been for a while, Billy."

Happiness, Billy decides, is Steve's arms around him and his laugh in his ear. This isn't just a phase. He hopes it will last.

#i know i know billy in denial #i just love it i can't stop myself #harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove ficlet #billy hargrove #tw internalized homophobia #billy hargrove needs a hug

[hammyham-o-o]

Laurens and Hamilton doodles!!

(musical version)

soooo I'm pretty sure the spirit of John Laurens possessed me last night because I filled two whole pages with lams dooodles lollll

Here are my favourites! :D

^_^

with their hair down ahh

guess who he's thinking about~

ok here's a lil angsty comic (bc ofc i had to have some angst it's lams we're talking about 😭):

and fianally here are a couple more *really* rough doodles (Laurens is reading a letter from Hamilton, and then the internalized homophobia hits ;-;):

ANYWAYS THERE YOU GO I've never posted my art on here before (ahhhh) but I had these doodles lying around so I thought why not? Hope u like them :3

#tw internalized homophobia #hamilton #hamilton fanart #hamilton musical #john laurens #alexander hamilton #lams #hamilton art #my doodles #hamilton the musical #hamilton doodles #yippeeeee #my art <3 #i love doodles

[asoftepiloguemylove]

Richard Siken "A Primer for the Small Weird Loves;" Crush // เพื่อนายแค่หนึ่งเดียว Never Let Me Go (2022-2023) dir. โจโจ้ ทิชากร ภูเขาทอง Tichakorn Phukhaotong // The Beach Boys Wouldn't It Be Nice // Mary Oliver From the Book of Time // Richard Siken "A Primer for the Small Weird Loves;" Crush // Becca de la Rosa & Mabel Martin "Episode 28: MATRYOSHKA;" Mabel // 佐々木と宮野 Sasaki and Miyano (2022-) dir. 石平信司 Shinji Ishihira // Richard Siken You Are Jeff // unknown // 블루밍 Blueming (2022) dir. 황다슬 Da Seul Hwang // Lucy Dacus Fool's Gold

#based on crush #mostly #on self #web weave #web weaving #poetry parallels #poetry compilation #tw internalized homophobia #tw homophobia #tw sui ideation #tw suicide #richard siken #crush #never let me go #never let me go drama #jojo tichakorn #the beach boys #wouldn't it be nice #mary oliver #from the book of time #becca de la rosa #mable martin #mabel podcast #sasaki and miyano #shinji ishihira #blueming #blueming drama #da seul hwang #lucy dacus #fool's gold

[riality-check]

(tw: internalized homophobia, period typical language)

“Do you want me, Steve?”

“Of course I want you.”

“I don’t think you do,” Eddie says. “I think you want a queer without wanting to be a queer, too, and that’s not how this works.”

“Eddie-”

“Why won’t you hold my hand in public? Or hug me for real? Or tell the Party, who we both know would all be supportive, that we’re not just friends? Why won’t you do that, Steve?”

Steve pauses, and for a minute, Eddie thinks he’s going to get a real answer for the first time. 

But then he says, "Do you have any idea what people will say-" 

"I thought you were over that," Eddie says. 

 Steve shuts his mouth. Eddie swears he can hear his teeth grind. 

"Still King Steve, huh?" Eddie sneers.  "Still worried about what people will think, still worried about mommy and daddy finding out-" 

"It's not like that." 

"Then what is it like? Tell me, Steve. what exactly is it like?" 

Steve doesn't answer. He doesn't even open his mouth to make it look like he's trying. 

"You're so worried about your precious reputation, like it hasn't already gone to hell since Hargrove-" 

"Like you would know," Steve snaps. 

Eddie isn’t an angry person, not really. But in that moment? 

He. Sees. Red. 

"I think I do know a little something about reputation, Stevie. I think I know what it's like to come to this town and have grown adults ask me in the middle of Melvald’s why I don't live with my parents. I think I know what it's like to have teachers say I misbehave because I can’t sit still and don't believe me when I say I did my assignments myself, without cheating. I think I know what it's like to be labeled a pariah before the end of my freshman year just because I started growing my hair out and wearing the clothes I wanted. I think I know what it's like to get called a fag for the first time and not being able to deny it because everyone saw and everyone knows and to have that be the first thing anyone new in Hawkins knows about me, before they even know my goddamn last name.

“I know all about reputation. Mine has been in the fucking pits since I was thirteen, so I’m sorry that I want you to get off your high horse and come down and slum it with me." 

Now Steve’s mouth is open. "Eddie-" 

"You're supposed to come with me," Eddie whispers. "So why won't you?"

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #ria writes #boy oh boy am i in a mood tonight #angst #tw internalized homophobia

[spicycinnabun]

Delivered

WC: 3031 🥠 Rated: T 🥠 on Ao3

Somebody was banging on the front door.

“Who the fuck is there?” Mickey barked from the bathroom.

He had just gotten out of the shower and wasn’t expecting anyone to show up at the house tonight. Unexpected visitors were never a good sign. He wrapped a towel around his hips and held it closed, exiting the cloud of steam.

“Delivery!” came the reply, muffled behind pine.

“Ain’t ordered no delivery,” Mickey muttered, tromping to the door. His feet left wet patches on the carpet. He hadn’t even dried his hair yet, so it was dripping too, as he grabbed his Glock from the side table. Mickey opened the door without checking the peephole.

Sure enough, a delivery guy was standing on his porch in a green baseball cap and a tight grey t-shirt.

He looked startled for a moment, probably by Mickey’s appearance and the pistol in his hand, but he recovered with a (friendly?) half-smirk. “Order from Wok Around The Clock for Mickey?”

Mickey eyed the guy, trying not to focus on the broad shoulders or the sculpted chest. “Yeah, I’m Mickey, but I didn’t order any shit from—” he cut himself off, gesturing towards the logo on the guy’s shirt, “there.”

He’d ordered from Wok Around The Clock plenty of times—usually, he went and picked it up himself—but he was never going to repeat that stupid fucking name out loud.

“Well, someone did, and they used your name and address.” The guy held up a brown paper bag that was stapled shut and spattered with grease. “You might as well take it. It’s just going to go to waste otherwise. And hey,” he joked, “free noods. Doesn’t everybody like those?”

Mickey stared at him.

The guy ducked his head. With his cap obscuring his eyes, Mickey just saw the slightly pink apples of his cheeks and a magnitude of freckles.

“It’s already paid for? Guess it would be foolish of me to pass up free grub,” he admitted, putting the Glock back onto the side table. He snatched the bag from the delivery guy’s fingers, peeking inside. “What’s in here?”

“Chow mein with extra beef, egg rolls, and Ian.”

Mickey’s brows furrowed. “The fuck is Ian?”

“My name. Thought you’d wanna know.”

What the fuck…?

Mickey’s head whipped up, and his face heated unexpectedly. “Why, you want a fuckin’ five-star review on your app or some shit? Already told you I didn’t order, man. I can’t do that.”

Why hadn’t he just slammed the door and started enjoying his free noods—noodles—already, damn it?

“No…” Ian laughed. He finally lifted his head, and the light caught his eyes. Green and sparkling with amusement.

If Mickey didn’t know better, he’d say Ian was checking him out, too. He was still wearing that half-smirk that was turning into a (more than friendly?) full smirk the longer Mickey looked at it.

But Mickey did know better. People didn’t do that to him. Guys didn’t do that to him. Especially not guys like… this. Attractive, tall, kinda alien-looking ones.

“I don’t need a review, but if you have any complaints, I can give you my number.”

Mickey let go of his towel in disbelief. It nearly dropped off his hips until he hastily grabbed it again with a scrunched fist. Ian’s eyes tracked the movement. “The fuck you just say?”

Had Mickey gotten water in his fucking ears that was disturbing his fucking hearing? Or…

“If you have any complaints—about the food, the service, anything—Wok Around The Clock would love to hear them,” Ian replied smoothly. He took a pen out of his pocket (like some fucking boy scout), uncapped it with his teeth, and wrote something down on the side of the bag that Mickey was still holding. “Or if you want to talk to us in person, we’re just… a wok around the block.” He winked.

Winked.

Mickey let it happen. The bad joke, the—the whatever this was. He was so flabbergasted that he had turned into a fucking statue.

Faced with Mickey’s silence, Ian finally started to look a bit sheepish. He capped his pen and slid it back into his jeans’ pocket. “Okay. Well, enjoy your meal. See ya.”

He ducked away before Mickey could pick his brain up off the floor, getting into a black pickup truck parked on the street. It growled to life, and he lifted his hand to wave at Mickey before speeding off.

Mickey stood there staring until one of his neighbors, Connie, walked by with her beagle and a little girl. Both the girl and beagle were on harness leashes, and Connie looked like she had gone one too many rounds with a tanning bed, all red and splotchy.

She stopped when she noticed him, yanking the leash straps and making the little girl squeal as she was pulled back. “Hey, Milkovich, nobody wants to see your tits! Go on back inside before you scar my neice with your pervert peep show.”

“Lookin’ at your overbaked lasagna of a face every day, I’m sure she’s already scarred for life, Ms. Hannigan,” Mickey said. He closed the door on her middle finger.

*

After he was dry and dressed, Mickey settled on his couch in front of the coffee table and took a few big, healthy shots from a bottle of whiskey to shake off some nerves he had no idea why he even had. Then, once sufficiently buzzed and relaxed, he started devouring the free food that was mysteriously his usual order—Chow mein with extra beef, egg rolls, and Ian.

Christ, Ian wasn’t part of his usual.

Weird fuckin’ guy.

Weird, big shoulders, perfect for hanging onto.

Weird, sweet face that was kinda nice to look at?

Mickey’s teeth clacked against his fork. He felt warmth creep up his neck as his eyes strayed from the TV playing an old Friends rerun to the handwritten phone number on the side of the bag.

468-7883

Call me ;)

Call him. Like hell Mickey would call him. And that fucking winky face. That was suspicious, right? Why was it there?

His rescue kitten, Lucifur, took the opportunity to swipe a packet of plum sauce from the table and start playing with it on the floor while he was distracted.

“You think he was hittin’ on me?” Mickey asked him.

It was possible but… unlikely. The guy hadn’t seemed fruity at all. Didn’t do any weird shit with his voice or hands. Not like any of the fags Mickey had ever come across. More like him. Like, regular.

Lucifur ignored him, continuing to roll around happily with the packet. Mickey leaned over to grab it from him before he tore a hole in it with his claws and got plum sauce everywhere. He got scratched for his trouble but headbutted a few seconds later.

“Little shit.” Mickey scooped him up and stroked him affectionately. “You don’t got any opinion on this?”

Lucifur closed his eyes and purred, his whole body vibrating. Mickey leaned back, and Lucifur walked up his chest, curling up in the crook of his neck. Mickey couldn’t prevent the soft smile that bloomed across his face. “Guess not.”

Between the booze, the full belly of food he now had, and the tiny black fluffball of doom warming him from the inside out, Mickey could have fallen right to sleep.

He unlocked his phone instead, pulling up his contact list and adding a new one. He named it Complaint Dept. and shot off a text before he could talk himself out of it.

Yo I got a complaint about my order

Not enough beef

He dropped his phone onto his chest without waiting for the Delivered message to show up.

On the TV, Chandler said, “Oh please, could she be more out of my league?”

“He ain’t out of my league. He’s a fuckin’ delivery boy,” Mickey argued, defensive for no reason and talking to the TV like a fucking psycho. He really needed to get out more.

Lucifur mrrr’d like he agreed with that thought, tucking a paw beneath the collar of Mickey’s shirt and extending his claws to knead Mickey’s collarbone. Mickey let out a curse at the pinpricks in his skin but didn’t stop their assault.

His phone lit up with a notification. Mickey tilted the screen towards his face.

Complaint Dept. (now)

Oh really? I’m sure I can fix that. How much beef do you need, Mickey?

Mickey snorted and tapped on the notif to open the message, semi-drunk fingers fumbling over the tiny keyboard. He started this shit. He might as well play along.

It was also a good sign (why?) that the guy immediately knew it was Mickey. That meant he wasn’t a fuck boy who hit on every Tom, Dick, and Harry that he delivered food to. Probably.

How much you got?

I’ll take it all

Delivered

If they were talking about what he thought they were talking about, he was like seventy-five percent sure now that they were flirting.

Most guys can’t take everything I’ve got. You sure you can?

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up. Okay, ninety-five percent sure.

Guys you been with sound like complete pussies

Delivered

That was probably a lie, too. Outside of porn, the majority of guys were less than average or average in the dick department. (Hell, Mickey included.) And the small handful of guys that Mickey had fucked had talked a big game, but when it came to actually whipping it out and performing… eh. Disappointing. In size and delivery. So much so that he’d actually stopped one mid-fuck and topped him instead.

He got a response a few minutes later. It was enough time for him to reach out for his pack of smokes on the coffee table and light one up, blowing the smoke away from Lucifur.

What are you doing right now?

Mickey bit his lip. Was that supposed to be a sexy question? Was Ian trying to sext with him or some shit? Should he send a picture of his dick?

“Nah, too desperate,” Mickey decided. No way was he about to give the guy a personal penis portrait to hang up in his bedroom.

He opened his camera app and reversed it, angling the lens above himself. He missed the shutter button on the first try and nearly dropped his phone on his fucking face, but he got it on the second try. All that was included in the shot was his chest, Lucifur, the lower half of his face with his cigarette caught between his smirking lips, and his left hand, middle finger aloft.

Chillin with this villain

No free nudes for you, sorry

Delivered

Mickey watched the screen. It didn’t take long for those three dots to start dancing.

I’ll take a hot guy with a kitten over a dick pic any day of the week.

Mickey’s stomach swooped, brows furrowing. Hot… Him? Nobody had ever called him that before. Dirty guy? Sure. Smelly guy? Definitely. But hot guy? That was fucking new. Slowly, his brows smoothed out, and a gay-ass smile spread across his face as he read the sentence a few (dozen) more times. He was glad not even Lucifur was awake to see this. Shit was embarrassing.

Ian asked him a few questions. The kitten’s name, where he got him, and if Mickey had any other pets. Mickey was baffled why the guy gave a fuck, but the whiskey was making him more open to conversation, so he answered and even asked one of his own.

You got any?

Delivered

A picture of a German shepherd popped up on his screen. Its upper half rested on what Mickey assumed was Ian’s lap, and its head was lifted towards the camera, tongue lolling out happily like it had just finished playing for hours. It wore a blue collar with a shiny gold tag, and an alligator-shaped chew toy was between its paws. A big, freckly hand was buried in its fur, in the middle of ruffling its ears.

My girl, Lyla. Retired military K-9 unit. Best dog in the whole country.

Well, shit. Mickey’s smile grew a little. Fact that Ian was an animal lover might’ve been attractive as hell. He ashed his cigarette in the tray and picked up the whiskey bottle.

Cute

Bet you spoil her to death

Delivered

Mickey looked at the picture some more. He could see a dusting of hair all over Ian’s corded forearm. Why were the visible veins in his hand kinda hot? The hair was orange-ish, coppery, too. He was a redhead. Fuckin’ hot. Mickey nearly spit out his whiskey when the next message appeared.

You wanna sit on my lap next? I could spoil you too.

Mickey swallowed wrong and coughed, putting the bottle back on the table and thumping his chest. Lucifur let out a mew of complaint as he was disturbed. Mickey’s heart went haywire as he reread the message. It was a dumb joke, he knew, but hell. Ian sure was shooting his shot.

Mickey could flirt back.

Sure you could

Delivered

Okay, maybe he couldn’t.

You don’t sound convinced. I can fix that too.

Mickey pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting another whiskey-fueled blush. More like he didn’t know what the fuck to say.

Think you might be all bark

No bite

Delivered

A dog joke. Nice, Milkovich. Real flirtatious.

Oh, I bite. If you ask nice. Sometimes I even like it…ruff. 🦴️

Despite himself, Mickey laughed. What a fucking nerd.

Lucifur, having had enough of Mickey’s constant jostling, hopped off him, tiny tail flicking. He meowed demandingly until Mickey scooped him up by the belly and lowered him to the ground. Mickey watched Lucifur scamper to the kitchen, making sure the little idiot didn't brain himself on the corner of the wall, before focusing on his phone again.

The TV had already moved on to another sitcom. This time, a rerun of How I Met Your Mother was playing.

Do those awful fucking jokes ever get you any ass?

Delivered

The dots did their dance.

Only the coolest guys like my jokes. Are you cool, Mickey?

On the TV, Ted said, “Shouldn’t we hold out for the person who doesn’t just tolerate our little quirks but actually kinda likes them?”

Mickey pulled his lip into his mouth, grinning. He guessed he could stroke the dork’s ego. Just this once.

Coolest motherfucker you ever met

Delivered

Nothing happened on the screen for long enough that Mickey got up and cleared the coffee table, packing up his leftovers and putting them in the fridge for the next day. He noticed a lone fortune cookie in the bottom of the bag as he was about to crush it up and put it in the trash, so he fished it out.

He also refilled Lucifur’s kibble and replaced his water with some fresh stuff from the tap since the little guy was howling in front of his bowls like he hadn’t eaten in three goddamn years. Never mind he was only five months old and had eaten a can of wet food only two hours ago.

Mickey was a bit unsteady on his feet and just drunk enough that his dumb fucking smile was still plastered across his face as he cracked open the fortune cookie and unrolled the little piece of paper.

“The greatest risk is not taking one,” Mickey read out loud, smile disappearing. “You callin' me a coward, bitch?”

Great, now he was talking to fortune cookies.

His lucky numbers were…

4 6 8 7 88 3

That looked familiar. “You can’t be fucking serious!”

Mickey squinted, dropping the fortune and fumbling for his phone to double-check, but he nearly had a heart attack when he saw the notification waiting for him. His ass hit the couch again as his world went loopy.

Complaint Dept. (2 minutes ago)

Does that mean you’d agree to go out on a date with me?

…Ian, the delivery guy he’d just met, wanted to take him out on a date?

Not a hookup. Like, a real fucking date? With fuckin’ conversation and shit?

Mickey was not sober enough to answer that, but his fingers were moving before his brain could catch up.

Don’t really do dates

Delivered

Had never done it, was the truth. Not even with a woman. Not even with Svetlana.

What kinda date?

Delivered

He was out of his fucking mind. He shouldn’t have asked that.

The dots danced again.

We could go for a drink?

Or something sweet? I know a great ice cream place.

“Christ.” Mickey covered his face with his palms. His heart was racing like his dad was about to rise from the grave and burst through the door with an AK-47 pointed right at his head. Mickey peeked out between his fingers when his phone pinged five more times in quick succession.

But it’s okay!

If you don’t want to.

No pressure.

Though you will be missing out on some great comedy.

I have a whole arsenal of puns you still haven’t heard.

Over the years, Mickey had never talked to anyone like this. There was never an opportunity for someone to flirt with him or ask him out. He was short and to the point. None of his one-night stands had even made it to the morning. Out of his bed before the sun rose every time—if they even made it to his bed in the first place. Even chit-chat was kept to a minimum.

His door had been slammed shut and bolted with his back pressed hard against it, fueled by fear, since he was a teenager.

But maybe now it was finally open. Just a crack.

“Go to hell, you fuckin’ prick,” Mickey muttered, picturing Terry’s rage-filled face. His thumbs tapped out a message.

That’d be a shame

Won’t scream for it, but I do like ice cream

Delivered

You don’t have to scream for the ice cream.

But you might scream for me. ;)

Mickey sniffed, then blew out an amused snort. Fucking winky-faced cheesy fucker.

Yeah

Guess we’ll see about that

Delivered

#fic #gallavich #gallavich au #shameless #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #tw internalized homophobia #bad puns #flirting #meet cute

[the-sappho-of-lesbos]

There is a massive disconnect in my brain over my sexuality lately.

Even with my ex I didn’t get this and I think it’s because I wasn’t with her for very long and the furthest we got to was kissing.

But before where I could talk about gay stuff online and joke about gay things and “lolol straight people” and when most of the gay stuff around me was in the fictional realm. I faced homophobia but it was different.

Now I don’t feel gay. I feel like a homosexual. Like a dyke.

I feel like the type of person people flip off in public or randomly come up to scream at me and then walk away.

I love lesbian sex but now that’s happening, now that it’s a thing and not an idea or dream, it really hits me. I feel so different. I feel like a pervert. I feel so different to other women. And I think being a top as well just adds to it all. I feel so self conscious in a way I haven’t since I was a young teen. So out of place. So small. So different. Like it really hits me oh my god I’m a homosexual.

#tw internalized homophobia

[the-spooky-children]

Talked about this in the tags of another post but I think I wanna talk about it on its own post:

I think hatred of Skid x Pump is rooted in internalised homophobia

Why? Well I myself used to HATE the ship (as some of you probably know), had the shippers in my DNI, everything, and my one reason was "they're kids, it's weird"

And

You know how in the shower and stuff you'll argue with yourself to boost your confidence? Well I was doing that and the "myself" I was arguing against in regard the to ship was like,

"Well, if Skid and Pump were a boy and girl instead of two boys you'd have no problem with the ship!"

And I realised

Shit

So yeah even though I'm queer as fuck apparently I had mild internalised homophobia and Spooky Month was the way I realised it

So after that I had a long think and decided that it was a stupid double standard and took Skump out of my DNI and went through my own ✨character development✨

So yeah, Skid x Pump dislikers, take a second to think if the reason you hate the ship is because they're kids or if it's because they're both boys

You might learn something about yourself

And if instead you're like "no I know for a fact I'd 100% feel the same about a het ship" then well done you passed! (/lh)

#tw homphobia mention #ig #I've known this for awhile but didn't wanna talk about it because i was ashamed lol #spooky month #tw internalised homophobia #tw internalized homophobia

[greeneyedvamp]

I saw a post the other day wishing there were more queer ships with characters who are good people, and began thinking about why I'm drawn to queer characters who do fucked up shit instead. tw: internalized homophobia

My family and friends, to whom I've been out for a couple of years, have mostly been accepting and nice. However, I can't easily discuss my queerness with anyone in my life because it is entirely centered around masturbation and sexual arousal. I don't have crushes, I don't date and don't particularly want to, I've never had sex and I doubt I'll ever build a family the way my relatives seem to expect. As a result, I tend to see myself as a pervert whenever I'm attracted to someone irl, and I avoid mentioning that I'm gay to people who don't already know for fear of either being perceived as a freak or as fake because I have nothing to show for it.

Romantic queer fluff to me can feel good at first, but often eventually transforms into fomo and self-loathing for not fitting into the story: not experiencing romantic feelings the way the characters seem to, having poor social skills and not looking the part.

But within stories (and fandoms) like Hannibal that feature queer love that doesn't fall within the mainstream framework of romance or ethics, set on a background of murder, I find every corner of my mind to be acceptable and true. They provide me with a vast alternative mental space to engage with, discover or observe aspects of my psyche (not limited to queerness, as the need to single it out vanishes, though it remains inherent), free of the need to mold myself into a predetermined image. In relation to this media, the secrecy is reframed from that of alienation to that of uniqueness, and with narratives to fall back on, I feel more able to face the world.

The following screenshots also articulate my feelings wonderfully:

#tmi #this has been in my drafts for a while and i've been staring a it way too long to know if it communicates what i want it to #so might edit later #this feeling intensely lasted for about two weeks until my attention shifted to other things but i think it will come back when i need it t #this applies differently to the tagged shows and texts not a one-size-fits-all explanation necessarily #nbc hannibal #hannibal #these violent delights #micah nemerever #anactoria #algernon charles swinburne #saltburn #wwdits #tw internalized homophobia

[weird-an]

Billy doesn't like Steve Harrington, he hates him.

He hates his stupid pretty face, his hair Billy spends way too much time wondering if it’s really as soft as it looks, his ugly laugh that makes Billy's heart flutter and he hopes its a heart attack and not a crush. Surviving a heart attack seems more likely than surviving Neil if he ever finds out.

That's the problem.

Billy can't like Steve Harrington, because then his dad would be right about Billy. If he's right about one thing, he could be right about other things, too. About Billy being a loser, a girl, a failure.

But unfortunately Steve seems to have decided that he's not a threat. Instead, he asks him everyday how he's doing. Not mocking or anything. Actually interested.

Today Steve grins at him, showing he's Hawkins poster boy, eyes shining bright, cheeks with dimples.

"You wanna come over to Scoop's?" he asks. "Maybe you'll even get free ice cream."

To stupid and Billy should say something about that he doesn't need ice cream and doesn't want to hang out with Steve, because he hates him.

But he can't.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," he mumbles. "I hear their uniforms are ridiculous."

"You'll find out." Steve leaves with a laugh, as if he knows something Billy doesn't.

The only thing Billy hates about Steve is that he can't hate him.

#steve will make sure billy will stop worrying…after years of therapy probably #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #harringrove ficlet #tw internalized homophobia

[hammyham-o-o]

hi :)

I was just rewatching some old Hamilton animatics *as one does* and I just gotta share this one with all the historical lams shippers on here because AHHH it's so GOOD

#tw internalized homophobia #historical lams #hamilton animatics #john laurens #alexander hamilton #angelica schuyler #eliza schuyler #you've probably already seen it lol #but if you haven't YOU HAVE TO #the song mashup and drawings and expressions and everything are just so ahhhh #I'm a sucker for the help I'm in love with alexander club #I know it's not historically accurate but I will absolutely love angelica and john as friends till the day I die #satisfied #counting stars #satisfied stars #Youtube

[snowangeldotmp3]

tw: internalized homophobia dedicated to @figthefruitfaeth bc zoey and i were talking abt comp het and femme4butch nancy and then this was born.

Something is wrong with Nancy.

This was her third failed date since her breakup with Jonathan.

She doesn’t know what it is, why this was her third failed date. Nancy doesn’t do failed dates, much less three of them within the span of a few weeks. She’s not gonna call him—James or Jasper or whatever his name was—the date was awkward and suffocating and Nancy really just wanted to leave, but, manners and all that. To make things worse, Nancy just, couldn’t find him attractive. It felt like a pity date on his part, mostly. And to make things worse, they had absolutely nothing in common. He kept talking about what he expects from a woman; a stay at home wife and kids and everything that Nancy detested. Everything she actively wanted to avoid.

At least her and Jonathan had shared trauma, and a genuine connection—even if it was as just friends.

That’s why they’d broken up, actually. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him, she did! She loved him more than she ever thought about loving Steve, but it wasn’t in the way that she knew he ought to be loved; he deserved better than that. She couldn’t love him more than that. There was something wrong with her.

She just doesn’t know what.

Nancy sighs, rubbing her face and staring back at the ceiling. The ceiling stares back, and Nancy knows, despite the downpour outside, that she will not be sleeping tonight. At least, not for a little while, anyway.

She tosses to one side, arm curled under the pillow, now staring at her bubblegum pink walls, and recalls the events of all three failed dates, trying to see where they all went wrong. And all three come back the same; Nancy just... didn’t like them.

If she’s honest, she would’ve rather spent time with Robin at Family Video, unofficially stocking tapes and goofing off, making a ranking list of best to worst Molly Ringwald movies. Or listening to Robin ramble about whatever book she’s reading, or about her nerves for college.

Now that she thinks about it, she doesn’t even know why she went on those dates in the first place.

That’s a lie. She does know why. She needed a distraction. A distraction from a certain dirty blonde who works at the video store.

Nancy doesn’t know why she can’t stop thinking about Robin. She should be thinking about Jeremiah or Jacob or whoever the hell she saw tonight, but, no matter what, she keeps going back to Robin.

Her and Robin’s friendship had come easy after spring break. Both of them too afraid to be alone for too long, and Nancy specifically, wanted to make sure nothing bad would happen to Robin. She almost lost her in the Upside Down and she was not going to lose another person to that godforsaken place.

And maybe that’s why Nancy can’t stop thinking about Robin, because she reminded Nancy so much of Barbara. Down to Robin’s nerdy little interests, so close to Barb’s own nerdy interests—stuff that Barb was always so passionate about that Nancy always wanted to listen to her. Couldn’t help but listen to her. Nancy was never sure what it was with Barb, why she always felt this magnetic air around her, an electricity that Nancy constantly tried to ignore when Barb would accidentally brush her pinkie walking side by side in the hallways. She always wanted to be around Barb, and she could never figure out why.

Why Nancy loved it when she made Barb laugh with her stupid jokes; why she thought seeing Barb smile—she could be a little serious, much more serious than Nancy, so making Barb smile was usually the highlight of Nancy’s day—was like winning the lottery. Why their sleepovers always ended with Nancy curled up into Barb’s side, trying to get warm, and an arm slung over her waist, pulling her closer.

Why her death destroyed Nancy. A mourning that sometimes, Nancy never thinks she'll get over. What happens when you don’t know where to put all of that grief? Where does it go?

Nancy huffs, turning to the other side, where bubblegum walls and Tom Cruise stare back at her, still wide awake.

It was nice to have another friend, too, one that she could call in the middle of the night and talk about anything—everything—and feel like she’s got a real friend again. A best friend, even. She’s not a replacement for Barb by any means--nobody could replace her, but it is nice to have someone to talk to again. Someone who shares her love for stupid little jokes and who never fails to make Nancy laugh, even when she doesn’t want to. Someone who Nancy feels drawn to; this warm, giddy feeling inside when Nancy hangs out with her.

Thinking about Robin now—her laugh, her eyes, her hands—the feeling returns, taking root and blossoming inside of her, warming her inside and out, making her face flush and her stomach flip. Nancy can’t help but smile softly into the darkness.

Isn’t that how she was supposed to feel about Jack? That fluttery nervous feeling?

Wasn’t that how she was supposed to feel about Steve? And Jonathan? And the other two guys she went on a date with?

What was wrong with her?

#soft butch robin is implied here sorry. i'm working on an actual femme4butch nancy thing this is just like a brain dump #nancy wheeler #lesbian nancy wheeler #stranger things #ronance #tw internalized homophobia #ronance ficlet #? #my writing #also zoey i hope u like this lol <3 bc it did spawn from our convo abt nancy shgsjdhgksjgh #anyways. uh. yeah <3 #nancy: oh i'm not homophobic i love gay people. but *i* am not gay. just not for me even though i want to kiss robin...who said that...

[amarithegreat42]

St characters and wether or not I think they would be homophobic (part 1)

Mike: Internalized, mf is the whole fruit salad. Also look at his dad, he learned some prejudice from him. Actively bettering himself though.

Will: Would say he hated himself and it makes him homophobic. Other than that he loves everyone (except bigots).

Dustin: My man would NEVER.

Lucas: He's bi. I don't care. He is. He would support fellow queers till the day he dies.

Max: She's a girl lover in some way form or shape (I personally think she's bi). Like Lucas, would support every queer person (except Mike, not cause he's gay though).

El: The concept of homophobia would confuse her. She would be happy for anyone. Look at her and tell me she's a bigot, I DARE you.

Erica: Loves her brother. Why would she be homophobic? She thought Lucas had a bf in season 4 and seemed fine with it (the sass was still there tho ✨)

Next part is with the big kids, aka all the young adults.

#tw homophobia #tw death mention #tw internalized homophobia #stranger things #mike wheeler #will byers #byler #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #eleven #el hopper #el hopper byers #elumax #elmax #mucas #lumax #erica sinclair

[the-kuzusouda-hideyhole]

To me, a fundamental part of what makes Kuzusouda work as a relationship is acceptance of themselves and each other.

Both Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi seem to experience struggles with toxic masculinity, one way or another, with Fuyuhiko feeling shame over his short stature, baby face and love of sweets, and Kazuichi over-compensating for his social awkwardness (likely a result of autism!) by presenting himself to look more intimidating. These struggles would intensify if they were LGBT+.

While I personally headcanon Kazuichi as bisexual, I do think there's merit to the idea that he is gay and that his infatuation with Sonia is the result of comphet. He likely played up his crush on her for all it's worth in a misguided attempt to convince himself and his peers that he is straight – that he is "normal."

Fuyuhiko, meanwhile, would be so deep in denial over who he really is that he would lash out at anyone who's more confident in their identities, especially their queer and/or GNC identities. This is especially prone to occurring pre-character development, before he begins to have a more cordial relationship with his classmates.

Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi getting to know each other on a deeper level, and realising their shared struggles with toxic masculinity and internalised homophobia, would serve as an important step for them to overcome those issues and learn to love themselves for who they are. The process would be long and arduous, that's for sure, but it'd be worth it in the end.

I can just imagine the end of a fic or something where all this character development has taken place, where Kazuichi has returned to his natural appearance and Fuyuhiko has softened up a little more, and they're just happily snuggled up eating candy together. Actually, come to think of it, that sounds like a good idea for a piece of fanart...

#tw internalized homophobia #toxic masculinity #kuzusouda #kazuichi souda #fuyuhiko kuzuryuu #danganronpa #sdr2 #super danganronpa 2 #analysis #headcanons #queer themes #fanon

[hensel-x]

felt bad about being trans (and gay) might draw ten fucking more portraits of gerard way later

#tw internalized homophobia #tw internalized transphoobia #i guess?????

[lvmity]

...internalized homophobia is so real. four years of being knowingly lesbian and im still so ashamed. but sure, I'll keep trying to be proud. i feel like there's this pressure to always be so sure of myself and never be pessimistic but my family and general environment make me very ashamed, so. yeah. and i can only talk about this on Tumblr, which is so stupid. i feel so weird

#being a lesbian is one of the loneliest things i experience #yhe other thing is just mental illness #tw internalized homophobia #tw vent