#i had never seen an out queer person ever

[steddieas-shegoes]

sold out, one night only

for @corrodedcoffinfest popup event for Black Friday using 'one day night only'

rated m | 2980 words | cw: implied and referenced sexual content | tags: modern era, pop star steve, rock star eddie, semi-famous corroded coffin, exes to lovers, getting back together

🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤

The poster is huge, takes up most of the board in the club announcing new events. It’s surprisingly simple for something so large.

‘One Night Only’ accompanied by a picture of Steve Harrington, recently out queer pop icon, and a date and time.

Tonight is the one night only.

Eddie stares at it, kind of wishes he didn’t feel like sobbing, and then books it out of the club.

If he’s gonna make it across town before Steve’s show is done, he’s gotta hope for the least amount of traffic he’s ever seen and a lot of luck. Maybe, if he’s really lucky, the show was delayed enough that he’s still on stage singing.

He manages to find an Uber only a block away, offers them a 50% tip if they can get him to the arena in less than five minutes, and leans his head back against the seat.

~~~~

Four years ago, when Steve followed Eddie and his band to Chicago, neither of them expected much to happen. Corroded Coffin was small town good, but they quickly found that they weren’t quite what record labels were looking for.

A small indie label from San Francisco was interested, though.

So they packed up and moved to California, and to celebrate the first recording session, they went to a karaoke bar and all took turns singing songs that you’d never expect them to.

Steve took a turn singing a Harry Styles song and it was game over.

The whole bar went silent until he was done, and then it was pandemonium as people rushed him as he got off the stage, telling him he should be famous, and that he had the voice of an angel, and that he should try to sign a record deal.

And Eddie knew he could sing; he’d heard him in the shower and the car plenty.

There was just something about seeing him on stage and knowing that Steve was meant for more that really cut into his heart and made him bleed out on that bar floor.

It was the beginning of the end for them that night.

Eddie pushed him away. Steve stopped fighting it.

Steve signed with a huge company out of New York and moved before Eddie even realized he ruined everything.

He hasn’t spoken to him since, not even the one time Dustin had to have surgery and requested everyone be back in Hawkins in case something went wrong. He was being dramatic about leg splints, but they did it anyway.

Eddie caught one glimpse of Steve walking out of the Henderson home the night that Dustin got to leave the hospital, but he didn’t stop him.

Corroded Coffin is big enough to do festival circuits, even playing on the main stage for some of them.

Steve Harrington is big enough to go to Grammy parties and duet with Sabrina Carpenter.

And Eddie is stupid enough to think he can get backstage to apologize to him for being dumb enough to let him walk away.

~~~~

When he arrives at the arena, he’s told he needs a ticket to enter. This is a fact he knew before getting here, but one he chose to ignore in hopes that he might be able to bribe someone with his romantic story.

Unfortunately, the middle aged man who reminds him a lot of Wayne couldn’t care less about his need to tell Steve he loves him.

“You and the 20,000 others in the audience, bud,” the man says. “No ticket, no entrance.”

“Okay, I know you probably hear this often, but I swear he knows me. He’d let me in,” Eddie explains, but the guy is somehow even less impressed. “Oh! Wait. I have proof.”

Eddie pulls out his phone and opens his photos. The album named ‘Stevie ♥️’ is still in his favorites, even though Robin made him promise he’d delete it after the last time she visited. He may have promised he would, but he never said when.

It’s hundreds of photos of them together, mostly selfies, personal pictures they took on dates or in bed or on their road trip or-

“I told you to delete those.”

Eddie spins around at Robin’s voice. She’s standing near the set of doors at the end of the long line of doors, two security guards flanking her.

“And I will. Eventually.” Eddie walks towards her, ignoring the man telling him he needs to leave.

“What are you doing here?” She asks even though she has to know.

She’s his friend even though she’s Steve’s platonic soulmate. She isn’t being mean on purpose. She’s just being protective of both of them.

“Robin…” he starts.

She holds up a hand. “If I take you backstage, will this be a one night only thing or a start to forever thing? Because honestly, I don’t think he can take seeing you if it’s only for you to leave right after. He’s barely-” She cuts herself off, eyes widening.

“He’s what?” Eddie pushes, needing to know what she was gonna say.

She sighs. He knew he’d get her to give in easily.

“He’s barely holding it together as it is,” she admits. “I had to bribe him to get on stage tonight.”

“Bribe him? For this show?”

“And the last dozen or so. He’s tired. He-” She sighs again, heavier. “He misses you.”

“If he misses me, then he should call. Or text. Send a carrier pigeon.” Eddie doesn’t mean for the words to bite, but he can’t help the way he feels and he knows he’s safe with Robin. She won’t take it personally or let him stew in it for too long. “It’s not like he doesn’t have access to me if he really wants it.”

“Eddie. You made it very clear you didn’t want to hear from him ever again.”

“I made it very clear that I loved him too much to hold him back. He was the one who pushed it to this,” Eddie tries.

He doesn’t succeed. Robin is shaking her head, laughing with disbelief.

“You two are made for each other. I’ll bring you backstage, but if I see a single tear shed in anything other than happiness, I’m calling Jeff and telling on you.”

Eddie can’t help but laugh. Calling Jeff isn’t quite the threat it used to be, not since Jeff got himself a very serious girlfriend who keeps him busy. Even if it was, Robin knows Jeff’s just gonna nod along, give Eddie a sad look, and move on.

He follows Robin through the door she came through, waving at the guard who was giving him a hard time– “he’s just doing his job, Eddie” – and feels his throat catch on his next breath when he can hear the beat of the music.

Steve’s pop rock sound isn’t necessarily Eddie’s favorite type of music, but he did stay up until midnight for the release of his debut album. It’s Steve. What’s he gonna do? Not listen to it?

His voice is just this side of raspy, like there’s a scratch of his throat when he hits the lower register his voice will allow. He almost sounds like when Eddie would-

“Alright. He’s got two songs left and an encore. Encore is usually just one song, but this is a special night so he may do a bonus from his new album. Don’t touch anything,” Robin sends him into the green room, waving off the security person who is standing at the door. “Don’t make me regret letting you in here. And don’t hurt yourself.”

“Jesus, Robbie, I’m not a child. I’m not gonna hurt myself-”

“I didn’t mean physically.” She gives him a sad look. “I care about you, too.”

Eddie’s shoulders fall as he breathes out. He didn’t realize how tense he’d been. Robin hugs him and moves to the door.

“I’ll make sure you guys have some privacy for a bit, but we do have a tight schedule. Security’s only here while the crew packs up,” she explains. Eddie nods. He knows the drill. He may not be an international pop star, but he deals with the ins and outs of venues often enough.

Robin leaves and the only sound is the bass thumping of Steve’s last song. Eddie looks around at how bare the room is. Usually, Corroded Coffin has to share a green room with a few other bands unless they pull off headlining the main stage. Those rooms are usually cluttered, crews and musicians constantly coming and going, leaving trash and guitar picks behind. The only thing in this room that would hint at Steve using it is a bag of half-eaten white cheddar popcorn on the table next to an empty water bottle and a mug of what looks like green tea.

Steve’s a big enough star to make absurd requests for backstage, but it’s clear he doesn’t. Eddie isn’t surprised. Steve’s never really been one to ask for things that would benefit him.

He hears the screaming, knows Steve’s just left the stage. He’s probably standing nearby, hiding behind curtains or stacks of speakers, maybe even in plain sight.

“Wait!” Robin’s voice is right outside the door.

The door opens.

Steve’s there, breathless, sweaty, hot as hell.

“Steve, you still have a song,” another woman in khakis and a polo shirt is rushing up to him, waving a clipboard in his face.

“Eddie.” Steve’s voice is rough when he speaks. Eddie can tell it’s more from emotion than the nearly two hour set list he just performed.

“Steve.” Eddie is waiting for Steve to move, for anyone to move. He can’t.

“Steve, you need to go back onstage.”

Eddie has his arms full of Steve before anyone can respond to the woman just trying to do her job. She looks like she’s a tech manager, but usually they wear all black, and Eddie doesn’t know all there is to know about an international superstar performing a concert even though he does know all there is to know about Steve.

He knows that he prefers earl gray tea with real sugar, not the green tea with honey that’s sitting on the coffee table. He knows that his favorite treats are the mini Kit Kats– “not the regular ones, they taste different, I swear!”-- not popcorn that gets stuck in his teeth for hours. He knows that he likes making places feel like home no matter how temporary he’s there, and there’s not a single item in this room that makes it feel lived in.

The woman seems to give up on getting Steve back on stage, and he’s pretty sure he has Robin to thank for it.

He has Steve in his arms for the first time in way too long. He isn’t wasting a second of it thinking about anyone else.

Steve’s sweat is soaking through Eddie’s shirt already, but he doesn’t really care. He used to love having Steve’s sweat on him; It meant he was doing something right.

He knows a reunion isn’t this easy, and any second now, Steve’s gonna pull away and yell at him, and they’ll fight and Eddie will let it happen because he deserves it and-

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Steve sobs against his neck, breath tickling his skin as his lips brush against him in an almost-kiss.

Suddenly, Eddie knows that Steve planned this. This whole sold out, one night only show was only so Eddie would come see him.

Eddie should be pissed.

Steve could have just fucking called him. Texted him. Sent a carrier pigeon!

But he’s got Steve in his arms and it’s always been pretty hard to be pissed at him when he’s pressed perfectly against his chest.

Robin is clearing the room and cursing Steve for making her clean up his messes, but Eddie can hear the fondness in her voice. She wouldn’t bother giving them time alone together if she didn’t want them to have it.

“Robin said I shouldn’t do it. She said you wouldn’t show.” Tears are falling from Steve’s eyes on Eddie's shirt. “I swore you would. She thought I was crazy.”

“You are crazy,” Eddie laughs, squeezing his arms to pull him in tighter. “Planning something this big in the hopes that I’d come to a pop concert is fucking insane, Stevie.”

“But you did.” Steve leans back and looks at him, watery smile enough to make Eddie feel like he could melt into the floor. “I knew you would.”

Eddie wants to kiss him, wants to ignore everything that went wrong and everything they need to talk about, wants to take Steve apart in this room and make it feel like home because Steve didn’t do that on his own. He doesn’t think he’s made any place feel like home in a long time.

“You put a lot of faith in a guy who let you go,” Eddie whispers.

“You showed up for a guy who left,” Steve says back.

“You only left because I pushed you away,” Eddie argues.

“You only pushed me away because you thought it was best for me,” Steve raises a brow, challenging him to keep going.

Eddie knows Steve has a response for everything, though. He’ll keep putting blame on himself the same way Eddie keeps putting it on himself, and they’ll go round and round and waste precious time that they could be doing other things. Instead of pushing, Eddie sighs and lets his shoulders drop.

“I’m sorry,” he says instead of arguing.

“I’m sorry, too,” Steve relaxes in his arms.

“We still have to talk, Stevie,” Eddie reminds him as he leans in, feels Steve’s breath against his lips.

“We will,” Steve barely gets out before their lips crash together, bruising and needy.

There’s a lot that Eddie missed about Steve. He’s spent countless hours harping over everything he messed up to himself, to Robin, to Wayne, to the band. Steve was forever going to be the one that got away.

“Can we…” Steve gasps against his mouth, hands grasping at every inch of Eddie that they can.

“What do you need?” Eddie wraps his fingers around Steve’s wrists to still him, to make him focus on what he wants.

“Just need you.”

It’s a cop out and they both know it, but Eddie’s fine with it tonight. If he has to be the one to take charge and assume what Steve wants, then he will. For tonight, he can give Steve what he wants to, and Steve will take it.

It’s a little anticlimactic when they come barely five minutes later. They don’t even get a chance to properly remove any clothing before they’re making a mess between them, moaning as if they can’t be heard.

As they come down, and Eddie manages to find a rag that may or may not have been used for other things already, Eddie sees Steve wipe his eyes.

He stops what he’s doing and drops the rag on the floor, pulling Steve close again.

“What’s wrong?” He asks because he can’t let Steve leave him again. Not this time.

“I just don’t want this to be one night only,” Steve cries.

“It won’t be, sweetheart,” Eddie assures him, brushing the fresh tears away as they fall. “We’re gonna figure out how to make it work. The band doesn’t have anything for the next few weeks, so we’ve got time, okay?”

“But I have to leave tomorrow. I have a GQ interview in London,” Steve pouts.

Eddie tries not to be distracted by his bitten-red lips, but they’re just so…biteable.

“I could go to London,” Eddie offers, only slightly joking.

Steve’s eyes light up. “You can?”

“I mean, I can definitely blow some of my savings to follow you around for a bit,” Eddie shrugs.

“As if I’d let you pay.” Steve’s beaming at him. “You really wanna come with me? Even though people will start spreading rumors and it’ll ruin your metal band image?”

“Baby, I’ll stand on that stage right now and scream to everyone who will listen that I’m yours.”

There’s still time to do that, too. Even though it can’t have been more than 20 minutes since Steve left the stage, he has no doubt that there are plenty of stragglers in the arena hoping for Steve to still come out and perform his encore.

“Some fans are kind of-”

“Crazy?” Steve nods. “That’s because you’re perfect. But they can’t have you, right? Not like I can.”

“No. Nobody gets to have me like you do.”

If Robin wasn’t banging on the door to warn them they only had five minutes, Eddie would be trying for another round. Maybe this time, he’d get his mouth on Steve instead of just his hand.

“I guess we should get to the car before fans figure out I’m still here,” Steve suggests. “And before Robin kills us both.”

“Imagine that news story,” Eddie laughs. “Best friend and manager of pop icon Steve Harrington charged with double homicide after seeing more dicks than she’s ever seen in her life.”

“Bold of you to assume she hasn’t seen mine,” Steve laughs as he pulls away. When he sees Eddie’s shocked face, he pats his cheek. “I sleep naked, babe. You knew that.”

Eddie’s face goes back to normal quickly. “Still? I thought that was just so I would-”

“I’m coming in!” Robin shouts as she opens the door. Steve turns away to finish buttoning his pants, but Eddie’s soft dick is right out in the open.

“Seriously?” Robin groans.

Eddie finishes making himself presentable and smirks. “You’ve seen what he’s got. You can’t blame me.”

“I can and I will. Car’s already surrounded, so. Hope you’re good with a hard launch.”

Eddie looks at Steve to check in. Steve gives him a nod.

“Blast off, I guess.”

[bunnys-kisses]

https://www.tumblr.com/bunnys-kisses/768349619894861824/im-holding-your-hand-when-im-saying-this-as-a?source=share

people started asking crane (Max’s friend) on stream if Lestappen (Charles and max) is real. I think he was like “I shouldn’t be furthering/entertaining this” (I forgot what he said word for word). People took it as something to be excited about, that the drivers are aware of the ships and all, but idk. I think fandoms are getting too bold for my liking. I have no problem with shipping, but this parasocial behaviour is out of hand. I saw this when 1D was still a group (with Harry x Louis shippers harassing Louis to the point where he got so upset when the ship was referenced in the popular show Euphoria), I’ve seen it with Kpop in which idols have stopped hanging out publicly because fandoms get out of hand (a girl in the group Aespa had a boyfriend earlier this year and fans got very upset because they shipped her and another member and they broke up. A few years ago, 2 members of two different kpop groups (SNSD and EXO) dated and the girl got harassed at the airport even). And now this.

Fandoms get so parasocial so quickly, it’s insane. It’s not new behaviour, but it’s strange.

exactly, this isn't new behavior. but i feel like it's become more emboldened with how much more "online" both fans and companies/groups are.

more under the cut, because this is a long one....

i also think it ties into this notion that i've been seeing online about how fans have this feeling to be "right" both with rpf and fiction as well. that their theories, opinions and whatever else is "correct". i've seen this with like pieces of media like steven universe and even star wars. like fandom isn't fun anymore, it has become this weird one up over each other. i honestly don't know when this changed, my guess is around the pandemic when it seemed like people were more logged into the internet. but, i could be wildly off with that. (if you have an idea, i'd love to know). it just feels stupid in so many ways how fandoms are structured. even if you're not the "best" artist or writer, people can't have FUN in fandom - of course that doesn't mean it has to be absolved criticism. you can have fun and still call out hate within spaces. the issue with formula one (along with k-pop like you mentioned, anon), is that these aren't characters. this isn't arguing in the tags over is finnpoe or reylo is more valid or legitimate within the narrative. these are REAL people, with REAL friends, families and partners.

it's this weird push to have someone's theory - and while i have a soft spot for lestappen, it is at the end of the day nothing more than fan theory - be confirmed. also personally, if hattie (oscar's sister) or crane (max's friend) "outed" them, i would be horribly fucking offended on oscar/max's behalf. to have someone you TRUST just out you like that. it's sick. maybe it's because i worked in queer spaces from high school all the way through uni, and the number one rule no matter WHAT, is you never out someone. even if the question is harmless and the person asking has no ill intention. you never out another person, because it's not YOUR coming out. so the fact that fans are near begging these people to OUT their loved ones, is not only a level of delusion that i can't ever comprehend. but, also it could honestly, ruin that interpersonal relationship.

so like even if a driver is queer, whoever it may be. could be a driver from the 90s, could be a driver today, it could be a driver in five years, i don't want someone else in their life outing them. because that's THEIR story. and fans need to realize that. bothering crane or hattie or alexandra (i've seen that too) - isn't helping anyone and it makes you look unhinged and weirdly alienates not only the driver but their loved ones. YES, they knew it exists, it is EVERYWHERE. but shoving it in their faces doesn't help. and you're never going to get the confirmation because there is a high chance that their not even queer to begin with. and if they are, NOT OUR CONCERN

i don't have a problem writing or consuming rpf, it is not a crime nor do i think it should be stopped. like HAVE FUN. but you have to realize that it's not like debating star wars or marvel or whatever other piece of fictional media. formula one is REAL, they are not actors. they are athletes, and unless you want all rpf to be shut down some how. i suggest the likes of some of ya'll need to understand that there are different boundaries. and respect them.

i know they're all millionaires, but they still breathe and bleed as a friend of mine once said. it's fun to put them in little scenarios in fanworks, but just keep it out of their direct attention. there are unspoken boundaries, that some of ya'll need have said to you apparently.

asking oscar issac if he THINKS that finnpoe is real is VERY different than asking someone's sister if she thinks her REAL LIFE BROTHER is fucking his REAL LIFE TEAMMATE. - people's relationships have turned to ash over insistent rpf in their faces all the time.

my advice at the end of the day is: have fun, don't write or draw it because you want confirmation that it's a real relationship. write or draw it because you're having fun. fandom is about making friends and shipping in whatever context is about finding a slice of community on the vast internet, not cracking the code of if it is a real relationship. - bunny.

[tossawary]

Recent "Star Trek" reboot universes have really tried to sell me on three different romances for Spock with other TOS characters whom he did not have romantic relationships (at least not positive ones) with in TOS, which makes it particularly annoying when people try to squirm away from the idea of ST ever doing a reboot or remake in which Spock/Kirk are explicitly queer.

Like, "But it's not in the original! They want to be faithful to the original!" really, REALLY does not pass the "I think you might just be discomforted by queerness and you should work on that, rather than making appeals to the authority of textual accuracy to avoid being called a homophobe or transphobe" check here. Because it's not as though these reboots care about perfect faithfulness on pretty much any other front. We'll accept that the costumes and special effects get updated to move with the times, we'll accept wildly different characterization choices that essentially give these characters new personalities, we'll accept new timelines that change the entire political map of the galaxy, but you draw the line at "What if this character was bisexual this time?" Really???

To be clear, I am not trying to dunk on Spock/Uhura, Spock/Chapel, or Spock/T'Pring here, I am merely trying to illustrate a frustrating double-standard. TOS Uhura does notably flirt with Spock several times! I remember TOS Chapel's feelings for Spock being one-sided, but I also don't think it's a bad thing to try to update TOS's more misogynistic writing choices regarding female characters. TOS T'Pring did... kind of try to kill Spock because she didn't want to marry him, but again, I don't necessarily think it's immediately a bad thing to try to explore her as a character and her betrothal to Spock. It's fine! It's fine!

It's just that none of that evidence from TOS for those relationships holds much of a candle to whatever the fuck Kirk and Spock had going on to inspire The Premise. "Amok Time" is an Experience. There's only so many times that Kirk can say something like, "The cost [of abandoning Spock] would have been my soul," before you want to put your face in your hands. They are taking shiny pebbles from TOS and trying their very best to sell them to me, while steadfastly, hypocritically ignoring the fact that they are already standing in the shadow of Spirk Evidence Mountain.

(Yes, I have seen the recent "Unification" short film. Yes, I enjoyed it. No, I will not consider Spirk "officially canon" until all plausible deniability for the squirmy folks has been completely, explicitly destroyed by a HUMAN kiss onscreen.)

And okay, I must admit, I don't actually want Spirk to happen in "Strange New Worlds". I'm mostly indifferent to their Spock and Kirk actors, personally, and every canonical romantic relationship in both SNW and "Discovery" so far has gotten a solid "well, they certainly are standing next to each other" from me. I think the writers would fumble it and then annoying fans would use the fumble as evidence never to do Spirk or queer takes on other TOS characters ever again. I'm mostly just mildly annoyed that I have to keep watching Spock be straight and messy about it when I'm not sure that SNW even has a canonically queer crew member yet...? There has not been a queer relationship onscreen, at least, unless you count M'Benga's daughter Rukiya and her glow cloud friend named Debra, which I don't, honestly. (Sulu is not here yet. Scotty is. If Scotty gets to make out with a guy next season, or Uhura gets to make out with a lady, then I may forgive them.)

This is just one of those properties where the double-standards regarding romantic interpretations jump out. "They can't do Kirk/Spock because want to be faithful to the original!" Get real.

[inchidentally]

Inchie we need your words of reason again 🙏 Newer fans have bled over from other hockey rpf and keep crossing lines 🫥

babe idk how wise I am ?? at all but I'm a firm believer in using common sense about rpf. and I haven't personally seen the stuff you're alluding to but! I've seen posts referring to it and I heard smth about another ship suffering a containment breach… so can't hurt to throw my 2c in as well ?? idk?

tl;dr that landoscar is NOT the ship for you if you 're going to try and force it to be "real" in a l*rry way*. this ship adores the real life friendship without having it compete with the guys' other many friendships - and we do NOT hate women and women partners or pretend they're beards/fakes/conveniently open relationship. and we absolutely do NOT push rpf outside of fandom. you'll get blocked/reported if you do. this is NOT the space for you to find your next "omg what if they're actually fcking" ship. Lily and Oscar are basically forever, Lando is rightfully loving his life sharing his beautiful body with people, and the fan fiction for the ship is staggeringly amazing so we're very very happy w the status quo <3

and we do NOT share rpf content with Lando, Oscar, anyone in F1, the families - basically if they're not someone you know solely in fandom, you don't share rpf with them. again, you will not find support for that here.

I "officially" joined landoscar fandom around Silverstone 2023 and these have been the hard lines taken for as long as I can remember and from all of the OG people in this fandom. esp from people who've been here since Oscar's Alpine tweet bc landoscar is unique in not having led with a PR image and we've all gotten to see every nervous, stumbling and authentic progression of their partnership and friendship along the way - at no point feeling the need to cross the boundary between fic and reality. it truly is charming and intriguing and rewarding as it exists in reality!

as far as the 'why' essay I'll drop all that where it can be ignored easily aslfgjalgf

like I said - landoscar has always been the exception of no one ever slipping over into trying to "make it real" in large part bc Lando and Oscar don't do the PR bromance/fake gay/fan service stuff which !reminder! is content in other ships I absolutely eat up and is 100% targeted to me but !! I'm also aware is connected to a lot of inappropriate fan behavior from ppl who blur the lines between amusing PR content and reality. trust me, I had to basically abandon carland0 which was my very first f1 ship bc to this day - fully out in the open - I see casual misogyny thrown around about Rebecca and ppl truly loudly thinking Lando and Carlos - who have always referred to each other as brothers and who laugh at the "gay" stuff they do precisely bc it's not real - genuinely fcked and/or dated. I will never care enough about an rpf ship to willingly encounter that shit on a regular basis. I know there's a lot of good ppl in the ship who don't engage in that stuff but I have such a hard line about wag hate that it's not worth it for me.

ironically or maybe because of, Lando and Oscar are the only drivers to NOT engage in playing gay for laughs BUT also who hit multiple progressive bullet points in things like discussing romance and dating in gender neutral terms and not making a big deal out of consuming or discussing queer media etc. they actually walk the walk in not pushing gender identity or sexual orientation on hypotheticals or on each other. they also don't do any macho/tradmasc behavior with each other or even bro-ey stuff like rough-housing or loud, aggressive humor (nothing wrong with loud bro stuff tho as long as it doesn't veer into toxic territory! I come from hockeyblr originally so it can be really sweet!)

and landoscar is also the exception in that we all ADORE Lily and have zero interest in trying to erase her let alone anyone be hostile toward her. in straight people culture they're basically already married and that's how they were when landoscar started as a ship! a lot of us have regularly made posts similar to this for newer fans to remind them that Lily (and whoever Lando ends up with as a steady partner) are NOT pawns in an rpf game. Lily is a real human woman with a real life relationship with Oscar and while no one is obliged to engage w wag content, respecting her existence is the bare minimum expected.

the last point I should make is that there's a very clear difference for instance on my blog where I see fanservice ship content about say charl0s or frand0 or n0rtrell and lose my mind over it and love it etc. but then there's Alex or Rebecca or Pietra on my blog! bc I can have fun without erasing women or losing common sense!!

whereas whenever I post stuff about a friendship that rly does make me Feel Things and write my insane essays, it's bc of what the relationships verifiably are and not what they aren't. Max F truly has a complexity and level of depth in his relationship with Lando that is unique and special to each other's lives. in the same way, Lando and Oscar truly do have a particular charm and fondness for each other that's made them approach each other unusually tentatively and slowly - while also having such intense blushing fondness as well as a uniquely intriguing maturity to their professional partnership. this stuff is fascinating and those two examples in particular swim around into all kinds of social/emotional territory.

in ways that do not require conspiracies and fan theories of them fcking or dating to make them compelling.

(and tbh the fact that Lando has some form of "crush" on a lot of handsome men and subconsciously/consciously "flirts" is absolutely fine to enjoy... as long as none of it gets outside of fandom.)

and the fan fiction for landoscar is truly TRULY staggeringly prolific and immensely talented so that's where we go for imagining them in any other type of reality <3

*do not get mad or whatever abt this - if you did or still do just want to ship l*rry privately then whatever but that's the like terrible gold standard for horrific real life repercussions of taking rpf seriously and why fandoms should never ever allow that to happen. there's no debate about that.

[halyorke-vampiredisaster]

I saw the tv glow is absolutely great, and I will have to rewatch it to truly grasp the layers but did you all notice the buffy homages

The font

The sapphic under/overtones & the left ones names are Tara in both shows

AMBER BENSON (TARA) CAMEO

Buffy has tons of nightclub/concert scenes. I know they weren't dancing and having fun in i saw the tv glow but it was shot and made in such a similar way, it almost felt more like a nod than seeing amber benson

And the setting in the 90s, obv

I'm sure there was more, I only just watched it for the first time

It felt wonderful seeing the power of what buffy as a show did for queer people in the 90s and beyond celebrated like that. It sure changed my life

[purplecelestial-buddy]

So, my laptop is covered with stickers, as it tends to happen. And some of them have the ace flag because yes. Which causes some very interesting interactions.

At first it felt like a mistake since: sure, I was a cool kid at college but if I had to get my pc out while at an aunt's or other family members' house it felt like having a target 🎯 that allowed people to either pry into my life or be homophobic.

But then I realized old people in my family aren't that nosy nor do they immediately recognize horizontal lines as flags so I've been fine.

However, whenever my queer cousin shows up I panic because despite him being gay I can imagine him being acephobic.

So anyway, the lessons is:

That I should have fun decorating my laptop because at the end of the day if someone wants to be homophobic they will, regardless of anything.

[jonathanrook]

okay but the problem is. and the reason i don't actually id as ace. is that i have. ya'know. been sexually attracted to people before. two. to be specific.

[luckyladylily]

So a few months ago there was the discourse about would you rather meet a man or a bear in the woods. I didn't want to touch it while the discourse was hot and everyone dug in hard because those are not good conditions for nuance, but I waited until today, June 1st, for a specific reason.

I'm not going to take a position in the bear vs man debate because I don't think it matters. What is really being asked here is how afraid are you of men? Specifically, unexpected men who are, perhaps, strange.

People have a lot of very real fear of men that comes from a lot of very real places. Back when I was first transitioning in 2015 and 2016, I decided to start presenting as a woman in public even though I did not pass in the slightest.

I live in a red state. I knew other trans women who had been attacked by men, raped by men. I knew I was taking a risk by putting myself out there. I was the only visibly trans person in the area of campus I frequented, and people made sure I never forgot that. Most were harmless enough and the worst I got from them was curious stares. Others were more aggressive, even the occasional threat. I had to avoid public bathrooms, of course, and always be aware of my surroundings.

I know how frightening it is to be alone at night while a pair of men are following behind you and not knowing if they are just going in the same direction or if they want to start something - made all the worse for the constant low level threat I had been living under for over a year by just being visibly trans in a place where many are openly hostile to queer people. You have to remember, this was at the height of the first wave of bathroom law discussions, a lot of people were very angry about trans women in particular. My daily life was terrifying at times. I was never the subject of direct violence, but I knew trans women who had been.

I want you to keep all that in mind.

So man or bear is really the question "how afraid of men are you?", and the question that logically follows is "What if there was a strange man at night in a deserted parking lot?" or "What if you were alone in an elevator with a man?" or "What if you met a strange man in the woman's bathroom?"

My state recently passed an anti trans bathroom bill. The rhetoric they used was about protecting women and children from "strange men", aka trans women.

Conservatives hijack fear for their bigoted agenda.

When I first started presenting as a woman the campus apartment complex was designed for young families. The buildings were in a large square with playgrounds in the center, and there were often children playing. I quickly noticed that when I took my daughter out to play, often several children would immediately stop what they were doing and run back inside. It didn't take me long to confirm that the parents were so afraid of "the strange man who wears skirts" that their children were under strict instructions to literally run away as soon as they saw me.

"How afraid are you of a strange man being near your children?"

I mentioned above that I had to avoid public bathrooms. This was not because of men. It was because of women who were so afraid of random men that they might get violent or call someone like the police to be violent for them if I ever accidentally presented myself in a way that could be interpreted as threatening, when my mere presence could be seen as a threat. If I was in the library studying and I realized that it was just me and one other woman I would get up and leave because she might decide that stranger danger was happening.

Your fear is real. Your fear might even come from lived experiences. None of that prevents the fact that your fear can be violent. Women's fear of men is one of the driving forces of transmisogyny because it is so easy to hijack. And it isn't just trans women. Other trans people experience this, and other queer people too. Racial minorities, homeless people, neurodivergent people, disabled people.

When you uncritically engage with questions like man or bear, when you uncritically validate a culture of reactive fear, you are paving the way for conservatives and bigots to push their agenda. And that is why I waited until pride month. You cannot engage and contribute to the culture of reactive fear without contributing to queerphobia of all varieties. The sensationalist culture of reactive fear is a serious queer issue, and everyone just forgot that for a week as they argued over man or bear. I'm not saying that "man" is the right answer. I am saying that uncritically engaging with such obvious click bait trading on reactive fear is a problem. Everyone fucked up.

It is not a moral failing to experience fear, but it is a moral responsibility to keep a handle on that fear and know how it might harm others.

[glamorouspixels]

The best hetero ships are like she's a badass bitch who needs no man, but she's got one anyway, boy's emotionally repressed but worships the ground she walks on, battle couple TM, tending to each other's wounds, taking care of each other in their most vulnerable states

[emberwhite]

I spent the last 11 months working with my illustrator, Marta, to make the children's book of my dreams. We were able to get every detail just the way I wanted, and I'm very happy with the final result. She is the best person I have ever worked with, and I mean, just look at those colors!

I wanted to tell that story of anyone's who ever felt that they didn't belong anywhere. Whether you are a nerd, autistic, queer, trans, a furry, or some combination of the above, it makes for a sad and difficult life. This isn't just my story. This is our story.

I also want to say the month following the book's launch has been very stressful. I have never done this kind of book before, and I didn't know how to get the word out about it. I do have a small publishing business and a full-time job, so I figured let's put my some money into advertising this time. Indie writers will tell you great success stories they've had using Facebook ads, so I started a page and boosting my posts.

Within a first few days, I got a lot of likes and shares and even a few people who requested the book and left great reviews for me. There were also people memeing on how the boy turns into a delicious venison steak at the end of the book. It was all in good fun, though. It honestly made made laugh. Things were great, so I made more posts and increased spending.

But somehow, someway these new posts ended up on the wrong side of the platform. Soon, we saw claims of how the book was perpetuating mental illness, of how this book goes against all of basic biology and logic, and how the lgbtq agenda was corrupting our kids.

This brought out even more people to support the book, so I just let them at it and enjoyed my time reading comments after work. A few days later, then conversation moved from politics to encouraging bullying, accusing others of abusing children, and a competition to who could post the most cruel image. They were just comments, however, and after all, people were still supporting the book.

But then the trolls started organizing. Over night, I got hit with 3 one-star reviews on Amazon. My heart stopped. If your book ever falls below a certain rating, it can be removed, and blocked, and you can receive a strike on your publishing account. All that hard work was about to be deleted, and it was all my fault for posting it in the wrong place.

I panicked, pulled all my posts, and went into hiding, hoping things would die down. I reported the reviews and so did many others, but here's the thing you might have noticed across platforms like Google and Amazon. There are community guidelines that I referenced in my email, but unless people are doing something highly illegal, things are rarely ever taken down on these massive platforms. So those reviews are still there to this day. Once again, it's my fault, and I should have seen it coming.

Luckily, the harassment stopped, and the book is doing better now, at least in the US. The overall rating is still rickety in Europe, Canada, and Australia, so any reviews there help me out quite a lot. I'm currently looking for a new home to post about the book and talk about everything that went into it. I also love to talk about all things books if you ever want to chat. Maybe I'll post a selfie one day, too. Otherwise, the book is still on Amazon, and the full story and illustrations are on YouTube as well if you want to read it for free.

[scientia-rex]

I feel like disappointment in Biden is baffling to me because he was always a disappointment. He was the asshole who got to ride to power on the coattails of a better man. He told bizarre and repeated lies (despite getting caught at it and his team telling him not to) about having a Welsh coal miner dad when he did not and he stole that story from actual Welsh people. I read a profile of him years back that pointed this out and told the story of the time he straight up ignored good advice from an expert not to plant a certain kind of tree too close together and flew a bunch of them out to plant, at night because he was just too fucking excited about it, and they all died. He’s not a smart man! He’s charismatic ish and lacks principles and as far as I can tell doesn’t really care about abortion rights or a lot of things we’d consider pretty critical to preserving freedom. I sincerely thought he couldn’t become President because there were so many obviously better candidates in the pool. I underestimated the sexism and antisemitism in American politics, and when he became the candidate in 2020 I gritted my teeth and voted for him because the alternative was a man who is not only an idiot but also profoundly dangerous. Trump is not ha-ha crazy, he’s Mussolini crazy. He is not dangerous because he’s stupid, although that doesn’t help; he’s dangerous because he does not care about anyone except himself under any circumstances and if that means he lets the far right push us straight into forced birth for white women and sterilization for women of color he’s going to do that. If that means conversion therapy for queers and death penalty for homosexual acts he’s going to do that. He has literally no limits. If he gets back into power, a whole lot of people are going to die, again. It’s not a hypothetical because it happened the first time and he’s only going to get worse.

I am not, never have been, and never will be a fan of Biden. To pretend that he and Trump are in any way equivalent is wrong at best and another goddamn Russian psy-op at worst. To pretend that a third party candidacy is viable in the US is to completely ignore every election of your lifetime and your parents’ lifetimes, and to further ignore the lesson of Ross Perot.

You cannot save Palestinians by not voting for Biden in November; the best you can do is chip away at his margin, and the worst you can do is see Trump elected so he can decide to do the worst possible thing in ever circumstance. Biden has Palestinian blood on his hands and watching this when we could have had Bernie or Elizabeth Warren instead is maddening. (I would have preferred Hillary to Trump, but I don’t think she’d be any different than Biden here. They’re both old-school politicians.)

I hate everything about this, and I hate that saying “maybe don’t put the man who literally said he would kill his political enemies in power” is seen as supporting genocide. It’s acknowledging reality. Joe Biden as a person can eat rocks for all I care. I was kind of hoping he’d die sooner in his term so we’d have time to get used to and then vote for President Harris. (Remember when the line was “she’s a cop, don’t vote for her”? Funny how there’s always a reason not to vote for a woman or a person of color or someone you just “don’t like” and can’t put a finger on why except she “seems angry.” Oh does she. How would she not? When Michelle fucking Obama, the picture of grace , STILL got called angry for having the nerve to be a Black woman with an opinion? When Hillary Clinton lost to a man with no political experience to her decades and who openly discussed sexually assaulting women? Would you have voted for President Harris? Or would you let Trump win again because you don’t LIKE her personally and she’s made decisions and statements you disagree with?)

Biden has both less power than his critics give him credit for and more power than his fans give him credit for. He needs to do more to pressure Israel and although it’s a delicate diplomatic situation I’d rather see us fuck up our diplomatic relationship with Israel than watch more Palestinians get murdered for things like “wanting to eat” and “existing.” The line has been crossed, and he doesn’t see it. Because he wasn’t the best person for the job. Because they didn’t get elected, because of sexism/antisemitism/racism. Hell, I have no idea what bootlicker Pete Buttegieg would have done here, but I’d have given him a try. But no. We got Biden and we’re stuck with this reality where you can be as leftist as you want and still have to look at the situation and decide whether you’re comfortable contributing to a Trump victory through inaction. I want socialism—I want every single person on Earth to have clean drinking water, enough safe food, shelter, medical care, and education—and I’m going to vote for Biden, pissy as it makes me, because the only actual alternative is so, so much worse, for me personally as both a woman and a queer, and for everyone in America and the rest of the world who Trump would find reasons to hurt. What do you think the man who openly and repeatedly praises dictators is going to do when those dictators massacre their own people? Yes, we need to care about this genocide now. We also need to care about all of the other people who are at real risk, both at home and abroad. Would a Trump government agree to fund military intervention in Haiti without insisting on it being a colonial exercise in power? Would a Trump government roll back the restrictions on discriminating against transgender patients in healthcare? How would Trump respond if Orban started dragging people into the streets and shooting them en masse? How would Trump respond if China finally went for it and invaded Taiwan? There are more lives at stake here than mine or yours or even those of the Palestinians, who have deserved better for literally decades and are being mass killed in ways that should result in immediate sanctions, a war crimes trial, and the execution of Netanyahu.

The world deserves better from you than complicity in a Trump victory.

[catgirl-kaiju]

something worth pointing out in the case of Tumblr CEO @photomatt 's statement regarding predstrogen is the very clear side stepping of the conversation being had. the ask he chose to respond to as part of his statement was asking about tumblr's transmisogyny problem, and what he is commenting on is tumblr's transphobia problem.

transmisogyny is certainly related to transphobia, but the two are not the same. i've seen plenty of trans folks who are guilty of transmisogyny and have even been harassed by such individuals on this very website. he repeatedly refers to transphobia and accusations of tumblr staff being transphobes throughout the statement, but never once brings up transmisogyny. perhaps he is unfamiliar with the term, but he could look it up and read up on it before responding to a question directly asking about it. he is very clearly not doing his due diligence in addressing these concerns.

he mentions tumblr having "LGBT+ including trans people on staff," but this is not especially helpful in assessing tumblr's transmisogyny problem. based on this we don't know how many trans people, whether or not there any transfem or TMA folks (who might understand the nature of transmisogyny better than TME people) on staff, what positions these queer people hold in the company, or whether or not any of tumblr's queer employees are on the moderation team. and it's understandable why some of these specifics are left out; you don't want to put any staff members in danger of being doxxed or harassed, especially if they're vulnerable marginalized people. however, it seems to me a gross oversight to not mention if there are any trans folks working on the moderation team.

i think it's also a huge misstep to focus on predstrogen so singularly when the conversation about her account being nuked is part of a larger conversation about transmisogyny. what this reveals, too, is transmisogyny playing an active role in the decision to ban her for life. one of the aspects of transmisogyny is viewing transfem folks as especially and uniquely dangerous. i'd like @photomatt to ask himself if he would have taken "threats" like the one cited as seriously if they came from a cis person or a TME trans person. really reflect on that, Matt. i also put "threat" in scare quotes here because, frankly, it's pretty clear that said comment is a cartoonish and outlandish example of violence used to demonstrate that the intent to harm is not literal. i do this all the time both on here and in real life. telling a friend i'm going to "maul them to death" over a minor annoyance is a comedic way of expressing frustration in a way that communicates it's not actually a big deal. saying something like "i want them to explode after falling down the stairs when trying to evade a falling piano full of knives" about a public figure or someone who is negatively affecting your life works as a way of demonstrating the intensity of your feelings while not veering into territory where it sounds like you're literally planning an assassination attempt. if you're reading this, Matt, i hope you can begin to understand the difference between something like:

and a real actual harassment, like:

y'know, all actual comments and posts i've received on this website, and reported with detailed explanations for why i'm reporting them but never heard back from the moderation team about the situation. i have no idea if anything was ever done about any of these people sending me bigoted violent messages because no one ever does follow-up. the only time i've ever received follow-up on a report was when i reported an account for promoting self-harm in the form of anorexia. that's it. one time in the over a decade i've been on this website.

how does all of this sit with you, Matt?

[crowleysgirl56]

Ok, so I wanted to do a deeper dive into this particular passage of Good Omens:

For context, this is at the climax of the book, they’re at Tadfield airbase, the horsemen have been dispensed with, Aziraphale has his body back, and Satan is about to claw his way out of the pit.

In most of the proceeding chapters involving Crowley it talks a lot about how scared Crowley is. He is very scared of Hell.

One could perhaps say maybe he is scared of them due to The Arrangement, but that is never explicitly stated. I think it has more to do with Hell is bad, and Crowley has spent the majority of the book being yelled at by some entity through the radio or TV telling him how he’s going to be in super amounts of trouble when they get their hands on him. He is just scared of what will happen. When he comes across the book shop burning he doesn’t cry for his lost friend. He curses Aziraphale, and I think it’s because the one person who may have been able to keep him safe and protected from Hell is now gone.

So when he thinks to himself (as shown in the above screen shot) that there is now nothing left for him to lose, this is why I never thought (upon reading the book the first time that is) there were any romantic feelings between him and Aziraphale. I know that technically he had already lost Aziraphale. But by this point he was back again, and back in his body. If there truly were romantic thoughts between them surely the idea of losing him again would come up.

I have read so much fanfiction, some old, some new, and what they all have in common is the detailed inner monologue of Crowley’s turmoil over his feelings for Aziraphale and how he doesn’t feel like he can act on them. In the book we get nothing of the sort, from either character. Even when they’re separated there is hardly ever any description of them thinking of the other except occasionally to frame a short reference to something. Reading the book I never got the impression that there was anything more than two ethereal beings spending time and proximity to each other and doing work for each other for no other reason than they’re essentially a bit lazy.

I think they’re only queer coded for the fact that there’s the line about Aziraphale appearing “gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitric oxide”, and Crowley is, well, very Freddie Mercury coded. Them being seen as gay together and all the gay slurs in the awful racist scenes of Aziraphale body hopping about in culturally indigenous people after the bookshop fire has more to do with the very typical 80’s/90’s trope of “being gay = comedy gold”, than them actually being together romantically.

I think the reason why they were shipped so much after the publication however is for the same reason we ship so many male couples (or female couple) in modern media, why we’ve always shipped them: because of the complete and horrid lack there of, of proper queer representation.

If you’ve ever seen the magnificent Russel T Davies TV series It’s a Sin, there is a wonderful scene where the character Ash starts a job in a school library and the headmaster asks him to go through all the books and find any book that has queer love scenes so they can be removed. Ash then gives a most beautiful and impassioned speech (albeit it turns out the speech is just in his head) of how there is nothing. Absolutely nothing. There is nothing to the point where they are nonexistent. They are invisible. They are not seen. (Or like, something to that effect. I tell you though, it’s bloody brilliant).

So I think that’s rather the point really. You have two iconic characters, albeit supporting bit characters practically, and I think a lot of our minds automatically get drawn to wanting to put them together because of the sheer lack of queer couples. People have been doing it for years from Frodo and Sam, to Harry Potter and Draco (or Ron I guess), to Sherlock and Watson (even before the Benedict Cumberbatch show. Also as an aside let’s not get into how obsessed people got about Sherlock Holmes back in the day when those books were first published. The obsession was the reason Doyle killed the character off the in first place, then after getting letters from people telling him they were literally going to kill themselves, the reasons why he resurrected him again. Don’t tell us that modern day nerds are weird and obsessive. We’ve ALWAYS been like this).

It’s for this reason why queer representation is so god damn important. Why I still support the idea of Good Omens season 3. Because regardless of how the characters were originally intending to be represented in the book, it’s very clear now that they are so much more than “Just friends”. And we NEED that! Whether you subscribe to the idea that they will be physically intimate with each other, the fact remains is they love each other. They love each other immensely. And that comes from years of Terry Pratchett (and the other guy) accepting that canon and telling fans that it’s true. Because Michael Sheen made a choice and held a belief about how he saw his character and then David Tennant followed suit. That literally tens of thousands of fanfiction writers have decided the same.

So that’s my take. I don’t think loving each other was ever intended that way in the book, but in the last 35 years their story has morphed into the ineffable husbands that we now know.

What are your thoughts? Have I rambled on long enough to make any sense? Do you agree? Have I missed something completely obvious and gotten it all wrong? Keen to hear thoughts.

[hellfiremunsonn]

Something About Her. Steve Harrington x Reader

Something About her.

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

Summary: Steve is kind of obsessed with you, and you're kind of obsessed with him. Only ever watching from afar until a fight breaks out at the party you're both at.

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Warnings: fem!reader, physical altercation, reader gets backhanded by homophobic male character, brief mention of blood, forehead gets slightly cut, reader has a vagina, sex but not sex? No penetrative sex, fingering, Steve is called a f***** and a queer in a derogatory sense by a homophobic character at the party. (I will star it out anyway just incase any of you are uncomfortable with that) (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

AN: Real quick, I don't condone using homophobic slurs towards anyone ever. This is not ME saying these things, it is a CHARACTER in the 80's saying those things. I myself am Queer so... ya know... I get it. NOT REALLY PROOF READ FOR MISTAKES JUST FOR THE VIBES (Huge thank you to my bby @rowanswriting for giving this a read through for me to make sure it wasn’t absolute garbage! love u <3)

Wordcount: 4k

Steve doesn't know when his fascination with you started, but he knows that once it did start he couldn't stop it. Anytime he was out at a party he was always looking for you. Subtly over the rim of his red cup, filled with whatever concoction that would get him buzzed the quickest. Personally he doesn't think it's stalking, because he doesn't follow you around any other time, but when he knows you're around, he's going to keep an eye out for you. Robin on the other hand, definitely thinks it's stalking and will make it a point to tease Steve about it whenever she can.

He's only talked to you a couple of times and the two of you wouldn't even consider each other friends but for some reason he always had to have an eye on you, and you always had an eye on him. 

Robin would constantly poke into his side and whispering about his "obsession" with you but he would just push her off and roll his eyes. Because someone as pretty as you would never look at him the same way. You were ethereal; Steve might actually believe it if you were from another world, considering he's had his fair share of experience of things that you'd think didn't exist.

He knows you watch him too. Praying you don't think it's weird for catching your eye one too many times, but being constantly enamoured by the way you move and speak, how you captivate everyone around you yet you're completely unaware of it. 

Robin decides that after watching the two of you eye fuck each other six more times that she's going to help. She skips over to you and you greet her with one of the brightest smiles he's ever seen.  The two of you talking together has four hands flying around with the dramatics of whatever story it is the pair of you have begun discussing and he's honestly surprised neither of you have hit one another in the face.

Steve still, stands with his back plastered against the wall, trying to ignore the dull thumping bass of whatever shitty music was playing, focusing hard on the way your lips moved, trying to get any sense at what you were saying. It takes him a minute to realize it's Robin you're talking to and he's more confused, zoning in on the way your tongue darts out to lick across your strawberry pink lips when he's interrupted from his thoughts by some beefy drunk, boy from high school trying to relive his glory days as he stumbles past him. 

He looks at Steve, looks at robin, and then back to Steve. He snickers "Damn Harrington, can't even get Robin to stick around with you? Maybe you are as queer as she is" he sways as he passes Robin and you. Robin freezes, before slowly looking back to Steve, praying tonight wasn't going to end with Steve beating someone up. Again. 

"Hey" Steves voice is loud, angry, startling almost everyone, despite how loud the music was. 

"Say what you want about me, but don't say shit about Robin alright?" Steve warns.

The drunken asshole makes his attempt to saunter up to Steve, getting far too close to his face before speaking "Or what pretty boy? Gunna get your boyfriend to come save you?" 

Steve can feel the hot air of his breath in his face, it reeks so badly of alcohol it almost smells like hand sanitizer. "Get lost man" Steve says shaking his head turning away from him, trying to distract himself from the prying eyes by above everyones heads, sipping his drink. 

What Steve doesn't notice is how ridged you've become and how hard your fists are shaking where they are clenched at your sides. 

He laughs, thinking he's won whatever show it is he's putting on for everyone and goes to leave before turning back to Steve. "F****t can't fight his own battles, what a pussy"

Before Steve can even fully turn around you've pushed past robin and are standing in front of the drunk, arm pulled back before your tiny fist makes contact with the dudes face. "What's your problem!" You yell.  Steve has never heard your voice so loud before. "You homophobic piece of shit? What decade were you born in saying shit like that?" Your hand hurts, like really bad, but you're too prideful to let him see you cry. No one is going to say shit like that about anyone around you, let alone Robin, or Steve. 

"Fucking bitch" he spits, blood filled saliva hitting the white tiled floor beneath your feet. His hand raises quick, and without a second thought he lands a single smack across your face with the back of his hand, and then walks away. You involuntary gasp at the impact, while the rest of the party goers shout and follow him but you can barely hear over the ringing in your ears, but you hope they beat the shit out of him outside. You feel a drip of blood form and start to slide down your face from where his large class ring made contact with the skin just above your eyebrow. Your hand trembles as it reaches up to touch the warm liquid before bringing your hand down to see your blood covered finger tips. 

When you look up, blurry faces stand around you, and they're all speaking at once, you're unsure where to look, or who to respond to when someone gently takes your hand, pulling you with them upstairs and away from the chaos below. Only when the click of the bathroom door locks do your senses start to come back and you realize you're standing in front of Steve Harrington and that tears had begun rolling down your cheeks.

At the same time you both blurt out "Are you okay?" and Steve laughs in amusement. 

"Am I okay? I'm not the one who sucker punched someone twice her size and is bleeding from her head!" he exclaims. He laughs again before muttering an "Oh shit" Grabbing at the nearest hand towel and running it under the faucet. "Come here, sit" he says patting the countertop. You watch him with wide doe eyes, pupils blown from the adrenaline coursing through you, but still you listen, slowly and a little robotically you lean against the counter, Steves large hand holding the side of your waist to help as you hop up onto the counter. He's talking, but you don't really hear him so instead you focus on watching him as he moves around the bathroom, finding things to help with the tiny wound on your forehead. 

He dabs the damp towel against your forehead quickly and abruptly. You wince and pull back, your two hands coming up to hold his wrist in place. 

"I'm sorry, shit, are you okay? I should have warned you first" 

"I'm sorry that guy said that" you say finally finding your voice, it's shaky and a little croaky but it's there. 

"Don't be, I've heard worse" he smiles and you let go of his wrist signalling to him that he can continue and so he does. "S'not so bad of a cut, just bled a lot cause it's on your head"

You laugh a little, and the relief Steve feels when he hears it skyrockets. "You've got quite the arm on you, more guys like him should be afraid of you"

You laugh again. "I've had some practice" you shrug and sniffle, pretending to play it cool. 

"Oh yeah? You beating up guys in the alleyways behind bars? Lemme see those guns" he pesters, lifting up the arm you used to throw your punch, and you flex it proudly. The muscle bulging and Steve gives it a squeeze. 

He wolf whistles. "Wow-ee that's some A plus muscle right there" he teases but short circuits when you look up at him. Mascara smudged just under your eyes from where the tears overflowed, cheeks rosy with a blush or from the adrenaline, he can't tell but his hand comes up to hold the side of your face anyway and he does everything he can to hold himself together when he feels you lean into his touch. 

"You're so pretty" he blurts, feeling the heat of your cheek under his palm when he says it. 

"So are you" you whisper. You can feel the trembling starting to begin in your bones as the adrenaline wears off, your body finally attempting to come down from the earlier altercation. Steve notices at the first twitch of your shoulder. 

"S-sorry" you stutter through your teeth as they begin to chatter along with the rest of your body. 

"Stop apologizing for things you can't control" he says taking your hands and placing them on the sides of his waist. He doesn't mean for it to be forceful or sexual when he does it, but his one hand comes between your legs and pushes them apart by your knees, positioning himself between them. "Here, hug me, it'll help with the shakes" He pulls you into him and you're thankful for the tightness of his arms around around you. You sigh into him, feeling the slightest bit of tension leave your shoulders. Steve notices and slides one hand to the back of your neck, pushing in just slightly at the base, massaging it until he feels your shoulders start to slump.

The groan that leaves you was almost pornographic, and Steve has to calm himself down immediately or you might be able to feel how much that little noise had affected him. Steve tried really hard, he did, but he's standing between your legs and you're so close to him that he knows if he shifted just a little you'd feel his dick press into your stomach. 

When the shaking starts to stop you lean back from him, head tilted up towards him but your eyes stay closed. Your hands still stationed on his hips, and Steve doesn't stop his fingers where they massage the base of your neck. 

"That feels really good" you sigh, eyes flitting open lazily. 

"Good" Steve says with a smile, his opposite hand coming up to push your hair back behind your ear. He watches as your eyebrows furrow slightly. 

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing" you lie. It's the adrenaline. It's like when you come down from a really big cry, and your body doesn't know what to do with all the feelings so it sends them between your legs, making everything in you ache for someone to touch you, for Steve to touch you. You shift on the counter, legs instinctively trying to close, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against the insides of your thighs, teasing you. 

Steve can feel your heartbeat pick up from where his fingers are still pressed against your skin, and he's watching you with curious eyes. He can sense it, he knows, but he wont make a move unless you initiate it, anything, even if it's subtle. But you have to be the one to start it. With one too many run in's with the end of the world, Steve knows that sometimes when the adrenaline wears off the only thing you want to do is fuck.

"Is it your head?" He asks "Does it hurt?"

"It's not my head" you say as you shake it. "It hurts a little b-but I'm okay, really"

Steve hums, his pressing touch moving from your neck and you have to stop yourself from whimpering at the loss. 

"Look at me" he says and you do, eyes darting back and forth between his. "I just wanna make sure you don't have a concussion" he widens his stance, sliding his feet outwards until he's just about your height from where you sit, his big warm hands come up and cup either sides of your face while he assess you.

A loud crash followed by laughter startles the two of you jump slightly. Your hands grip onto Steves waist harder and he's moved forward so now the two of you are pressed together, and he can see it in your face when his stubbornly hard dick makes contact with you.

"Steve?" you say quietly, and he's already preparing an apology in his head. "Um I know we don't really know each other" You swallow thickly. "But um" you trail off, glancing to your hands and where they rest, thumbs slipping past the hem of his shirt, touching the warm skin of his belly. He inhales sharply, and you look at him mesmerized. 

"Are you sure you're not concussed?" he questions "Or did that guy really hit me instead and I'm unconscious having a wonderful dream right now?"

You giggle and his cock strains in his jeans. 

"I don't wanna have sex with you though" you say quickly. "I mean now, right now, I definitely want to have sex with you, I just, not in a bathroom at a party? I wanted to- shit" You scrunch your eyes closed and take a breath before looking back at him. "I wanted to ask you on a date first"

"You wanted to ask me? Me on a date?" Steve says quietly. 

You nod, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. So shy, yet so brave.

'I'm fucked' He thinks. 'I'm going to fall in love with her'

"C-can, we um, can we touch each other? Is that okay?" your hands hold him a little tighter and his stomach tenses. 

"Y-yeah, please, can I kiss you?" he asks desperately and you nod, your hands finally reaching up to cup his face. He grabs you by the hips and slides you closer to the edge of the counter, your old converse hitched on the sides of his waist, pressed against his brown leather belt. Your crotch now pressed against his jean covered cock, and he realizes you've been wearing a dress the entire time he's been stood between your legs, and only now has caught a glance at the pretty pink panties you wear. 

You whimper when he kisses you. His lips soft and plump just like you had thought they would be, and the tiny groan he lets out goes straight to your cunt and your hips jump ever so slightly. You kiss each other feverishly, sloppy and quick. Every kiss, every smack of your lips, every move of his tongue has your stomach flipping and your hips rolling into him. He's grinding into you without a single care, he could cum like this and wouldn't dare be embarrassed about it when you look like that under him. How could he not. 

He does almost bust his load immediately when your hands go for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and tugging at the button and zipper until it's all the way down. He breaks the kiss to watch you do it. 

"Is this okay?" you ask, fingers dipped into the waistband of his boxers.

"You could do anything you want with me right now and I wouldn't care" He jokes. "So yes this is more than okay"

"Can you touch me too?" You ask with your baby Bambi eyes and god Steve nearly loses it. How can you ask him something so dirty but make it sound so sickly sweet. 

"God, yeah, of course I can sweet thing" he says sliding his hands up your thighs until he's under the hem of your red dress, it's covered in dainty little white flowers, and he thinks it looks perfect on you. He searches for the band of your panties before tugging at them until you shift, letting him slide them out from under you until they're dangling off your right ankle that is still stationed on his hip. 

His fingers slide easily through your slick and he groans. "Fucking christ"

You giggle again, sighing when he grazes your clit and your knees instinctively try to lock together.

"It's taking everything in me not to bury my face in your cunt right now Jesus Christ, look at her" he praises, watching his shiny fingers and the way they move against you, the way your hips twitch to meet them. 

"Her?" you ask.

"Your pussy babe" he says obviously.

Your entire body engulfs in heat, and you can't tell if you're embarrassed that he's talking about your pussy like it's a person, or if it's turning you on even more. 

"O-Oh my god" you say, your words slipping into a moan mixed with a gasp. Head tilting back until it hits the mirror behind you. 

"Jesus baby, let's keep your head intact alright?" he jokes, pulling you into him with one hand, placing it protectively on the back of your head as you bury your face into the crook of his neck while his finger traces your entrance. Your brain buzzes with electricity and you forget that just seconds before you were tugging at Steves jeans, but then he touched you. 

He circles your hole a few times, before easily sliding one of his fingers into you. You whine, open mouth, almost drooling where your mouth hovers against Steves skin. He leans back slightly, chin touching his chest to catch a glimpse at you to make sure the noise he heard come out of you wasn't a sob. But the thought of you crying because of his fingers? He can't imagine what it would be like to have you and your pussy crying on his cock.

"Feel good?" He teases. 

"So good" You moan, lifting your head from his neck, staring down to watch his finger curl into you. Forcing yourself to look away to continue your attention to his jeans. Hands shaky has they slip his belt through the loops, pulling at the button of his jeans and tugging the zipper down. You try your best to push his pants down enough to get your hand in so you can finally feel his cock but he's distracting. 

"F-fuck" you mewl, and it's high pitch and girly, and if you were alone you'd cringe at the sound. 

"Need some help?" Steve offers, stopping his movements and slowly removing his fingers from you, shiny and slick as he helps you to free his aching cock. 

"Thank you" you whisper. Once his cock is free you wrap your hand around him, thick, hot and heavy in your palm and he groans, tilting his head back a little before reaching a hand up to tap your cheek, ripping your gaze away from your hand to his eyes. 

"Open" hes looking down at you through his lashes, cheeks flushed a perfect pink and his chest moves quickly while you continue to jerk him off. You listen, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out and Steve huffs out a laugh as he slowly slides his two fingers into your mouth. The ones that were just buried in your cunt. You lap at them greedily, body buzzing from the approval when Steves hums in delight, head tiling to watch your mouth. 

You pull his fingers from your mouth with gasp. "I have an idea"

Steve raises a brow as you push forward until you slide off of the counter, turning around so your ass is how facing him, both of you looking at each other through the reflection of the mirror. Watching you as you lean your hips against the counter, pulling him towards you by his belt until he's almost touching you. Reaching behind you, you take his cock into your hand, stepping onto your tippy toes until its slid between your thighs, pressed against your leaking pussy. 

"Fucking without fucking" you say with a smile. Your hand presses lightly against him so the tip of his cock stays connected to you while Steve moves his hips. 

Sliding through your folds over and over as he mimics how he'd snap his hips against you if he were able to fuck you properly. It's probably the hottest things Steve has ever done with anyone, and he knows that he will think about this every single day until the day he dies, and he's absolutely content with that. 

His hands move to your hips, where he grips you tightly. Your dress sliding up with each thrust until the swell of your ass is exposed before him. Rippling with each thrust against his lower half, and he tries to stop himself, he does, but he can't. He lets his palm come down on your right cheek, a little harsh, and goes to apologize but the way your knees shake, and the moan that slips out from you tells him you liked it. 

"M'so c-close Steve" you force out. Your cheek is pressed against the cold marble top of the counter, and you're pretty sure you're drooling onto it but you couldn't care less with how good Steve is making you feel. "Steve I-" You can barely keep your legs up, but your trying. 

"Help" you whimper, and Steve knows what you need immediately. Wrapping a large arm around your waist, holding up most of your weight while still snapping his hips. 

"I got ya pretty girl" he mumbles into the skin of your shoulder. 

"Are you gunna cum Stevie?" You moan, silently begging he's as close as you are. 

"So close" he grunts. "Wanna see that face of yours when you cum, can you do that for me?" He asks sliding his hand into your hair until he's got a tight grip on the roots, tugging gently to instruct you to lift your head up. He doesn't want to be too rough with you just yet, not when you haven't properly been able to have that conversation. 

Lifting your head with his direction until you're forced to look at yourself and Steve in the mirror. He looks so pretty, face flushed, mouth slightly agape, his bottom lip slick with saliva. You could cry at how pretty he was. 

"Steve, Steve, st-eve, I'm gun-NAH!" you cum hard, all over your hand and his cock. Thighs trembling. 

"Fuck you're so hot" Steve mutters. "Gunna cum sweetheart where do-"

"On me, please I want it on me" You say almost frantically. Steve turns your around, helping you sit back up onto the counter so your legs are spread and he's stationed between them. Pumping his cock fast, the noise crude as it echos around the bathroom, slick with your arousal. 

"Fuck, fuck baby" Steve says through gritted teeth.

And you're smiling, and nodding, eyes glassed over and so fucked out, and he thinks he might marry you seeing the way you want him, and his cum so badly. He loses it when your hand joins his around him with those final few pumps, and his cum shoots across your stomach dripping down your connected hands to the base of his cock. 

He's panting and smiling, and trying to hold back a laugh, watching the way his cum drips down your body, down between the crease where your thigh meets hip, lazily flowing down to join the mess between your legs. 

You giggle, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you wait till Steve finally looks up at you. 

"You're insane" he laughs, grabbing your face with both hands and kisses you quick. 

"Only a little" you say between kisses. "Take me home?" you ask bravely. 

"Anywhere" Steve says quickly. he tugs his jeans back up, stuffing himself back into his pants, and adjusts his belt. You hop down from the counter and attempt to fix your hair so it looks a little better. Kicking one foot up behind you, you tug your panties off your ankle and turn to face Steve, shoving them into the front pocket of his jeans. Steve swoons at the sly look in your eyes, and the way you didn't even attempt to clean his cum off of you when the two of you turn to leave the quiet confines of the bathroom.

You giggle again when he interlocks his fingers with yours, letting him pull you along through the sea of people and out onto the front lawn down the street and only a few blocks away until you reached Steves house. 

"Yeah"  Steve thought. "I'm gunna marry her"

thanks for reading! <3

[dreamofbecoming]

listen i know we all love steve “completely ignorant of queer culture to the point that bisexuality is a surprise” harrington being roasted and educated in turns by robin and eddie, yadda yadda, good stuff. i read “they made a horror version of rocky?” in a fic recently and cackled. also a big fan of “he knew he was bi from the start and just never talked about it” as a trope, love it excellent well done

but what about steve who realizes after starcourt that the most important person in his life now has this thing that’s a major part of her life that he knows nothing about, and what if he fucks it up? what if he says something ignorant or rude by accident, and hurts her? what if he loses her because he didn’t know the right thing to say? what if he can’t keep her safe because he doesn’t know what to look out for? absolutely fucking not, this steve says

and listen she’d never say anything, because she can tell that he can tell how much she likes teasing him and teaching him things, so he plays dumb, and she thinks it’s very sweet. but she notices when the zines she keeps under her bed that she buys at that one secret bookshop in indy when she can sneak away on family trips start going missing, always one at a time, and replaced in a few days with another disappearing. and she finds the new ones he must have gone to buy the weekend she was at her aunt’s house hidden in the back of his closet when she goes to steal one of his sweaters. and she notices when he slips more of her queerer movie recommendations into his personal take home pile rather than the movie night stack when he thinks she’s not looking.

she doesn’t notice when he drives to indianapolis after she tries to explain to him why she can’t just ask out a cute girl, tries to impress on him the fear attached to every moment of attraction that he simply has never had to feel, but later she finds a crumpled receipt from a diner in one of his jacket pockets when she’s looking for his keys, and the address is across the street from the bar the gorgeous woman at the bookstore told her about, the one she memorized the address of but hasn’t worked up the guts to think about visiting, and she knows he must have gone looking for a place like that, must have been trying to understand, must have been scoping it out to make sure it was somewhere she could feel safe, after she told him she never had.

so when eddie nearly pops a blood vessel when they clock each other and she mentions that steve is the only person she’s ever come out to before, her hackles come up. because she gets it, she does, he’s only known king steve until recently, so it makes sense that he would be afraid, be concerned for her safety.

but steve is her person, and no one- no one- has ever made her feel as protected or as cared for as he does. no one has ever tried as hard to understand her, no one has ever put so much work into making her feel safe and seen and loved. and she thinks maybe even if no one else ever does, that’s ok. because she has steve, and more importantly steve has her, and that means no one gets to question his ally credentials in her presence without a dressing down to remember, no matter how well they mean or how recently they helped save the world.

(and maybe she’s not as surprised as she could be when he figures out bisexuality all on his own, because she’s been reading all the same pamphlets he has, after all. and she’s seen the way he looks at eddie, i mean come on. maybe no one else has noticed, but then, nobody knows steve harrington like she does.)

[stillfacingthesky]

being trans is such a mindfuck. nobody knows who i am. i dont need to come out, im fine as i am. i hide behind my clothes. i dont recognise myself in the mirror. i dont know if i ever will. i want to transition. im scared of change. i want to be seen and known. i am in danger. queer joy is beautiful. i am more open than a queer person used to be able to be. someone like me was murdered yesterday. i saw their face on the news, and the reporter used the wrong name. wearing mens’ clothes brings me joy, and the joy is reminiscent of a little girl. i want to be pretty. my skin doesnt fit and my voice is not mine. im scared i might love my father more. i dont need to come out, i can manage this all. im going to die someday anyway, it wont matter. a kid was staring at me in the bookstore today and i saw my past in their eyes. i wonder if they saw their future in mine. i want to be someones boyfriend. i am my brothers sister. all bodies are beautiful except mine. god created grapes but not wine and wheat but not bread. god hates fags. there is something wrong with me. if i ignore it, itll go away. its not going away. it hasnt gone away in seven years. i dont want to be a stereotype. i love brash vulgarity. my mother thinks i am beautiful. i share her face. i know ill regret it if i never come out. i dont want to waste my life wearing a costume. i dont know if i want to sacrifice the life that ive had for the life i could have. someone out there understands me. someone else would kill me without regret. someone would cry if i was gone. someone would praise my killer as a hero. there are photos and illustrations of people like me in the past. our history has been erased. theyre still trying to erase us. i dont know if the present is worth the future. i want to be happy. i dont feel like i deserve it. ‘female’ leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. ���woman’ makes me see stars. i am one but not the other. i am the ghost of the person i want to be. i encourage others and love them regardless. i am a hypocrite. ive been in hiding since i was thirteen. i want to be loud. my mother spent nine months creating me. i will spend the rest of my life creating myself. i am scared. i am angry. i am beautiful and sickening and i want to rip my skin apart to make space for something new. my rage is glorious. they will never understand. i do not need them to. i am so lonely. i am an artist and i want to be a masterpiece. they call my creation mutilation. i dont want to make my parents sad. i want my brother to like me. i am visibly queer. that man shouted at me to smile because he was treating me like a woman. what i have right now is enough. i want more. i don’t know if ill ever have it. if i die tomorrow, i will be buried in a dress. it will be a dress that is already in my closet, a pretty dress that i havent worn in years.