#and they treat pronouns like cooties | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

steveusesfaberge · 5 years

Text

Tips & Company Policy

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Request: So my request is — the reader is dating Steve, and they both work with robin at scoops and they’re in this competition on who can get the most tips & then reader flirts with a male customer & bb Steve gets jealous and protective ya know however you wanna spin it lol happy ending tho ❤️❤️

Summary: He’s loved her, ever since he could remember...Steve just had never had the courage to speak up. That is, until now - Robin being the ultimate wing-woman he never asked for...a friendly competition...a good-looking customer...and no regards to their company policies.

Type/Style: Imagine, female pronouns

Warning(s): Fluffff, fluff, flufffffff, a dork named Harrington, a bit of a jealous boi, and a cheeky ass Robin <3 Cursing, cause...yeahhh...

Word Count: +7.4K

a/n: This was such a cuteeeeeee idea! I’m so happy I had the pleasure of writing it! <3 It made me happy and prepared me for what I have planned next...

Next up is a Billy fic...and hold your horses, kids...this one is gonna be a doozy...angst, tears, and fluff sprinkled throughout...a miniseries that I plan to have a sweet ending.

I’m trying to decide on what t do with my next Steve fic...either a request, or something new (possibly a miniseries for Harrington too).

I apologize if I haven’t gotten to your requests, in order for me to actually write - I need inspiration and time...I’ve lacked in the first recently, for those in particular, and I’m sorry! I promise I’ll get to them though! <3

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

“Ouch. I’m pretty sure that’ll leave a mark.” Steve groaned in frustration, as Robin mocked him from the glass-slide window. He turned around, employee issued-hat in hand...chocolate blast smeared across his face. Just another day at Scoops Ahoy for Steve Harrington...

“Har, har,” He fussed while giving her a nasty look. Buckley only smirked while adding another tally to the You Suck side of that infamous whiteboard of hers.

Robin capped her marker. “You know, if you stopped being a dingus, you’d notice that you don’t have to work so hard for your money,” the dirty-blonde told while giving him the you’re an idiot - why am I even telling you this? You should know this already look.

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, he pulled a clean rag from under the counter and wiped his face off. Proceeding to wipe down the countertop while he’s at it... “What? Whaddya mean by that?” Harrington questioned while lifting a hand to rub his nose, the stain from the counter (and his face) now gone.

He’d been talking to a customer and as he was serving her, he...accidentally...might’ve given a backhanded comment - of course, unintentional - but he managed to irk her anyway (So, I was just thinking, maybe you and me could get together some time - y-you know, like back at your place. O-Or mine..-- Well, I mean - I’d take you out first, like before we did anyth- like I wouldn’t just screw you and leave...unless you wanted me to). Yeah...not his best run. Thus, the flavor of the day made friend’s with his cheekbones.

“I mean,” Robin started while rolling her eyes and crossing her arms,” You - good sir - are wasting your time on--,” she trailed off, pulling a hand up to gesture to the sea of people passing by the parlor.

Steve touched his face, pulling at his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger. “Mhm, mhm, mhm...yeah, yeah, get to the point.”

Robin could only gawk at him; as if he were truly the dumbest person she’d ever met (and he was). She scoffed in disbelief. “Steve-- I mean, why do you try with all these others girls, when the one that’s - as they say,” she paused for emphasis, her eyes wide and her speech slow as if talking to a child.

“The perfect girl - is right under your fucking nose, Harrington.” With that, she grabbed his shoulders and whipped him to turn around. Steve was in the midst of telling her off and rolling his eyes when he spotted her...

She had her hair let down, allowing a flow of honey and lavender to waff off her figure (Steve knew because he’d asked her...I mean...of course he did - his hair didn’t get this good all by itself...). Her y/c/e eyes were far from lackluster - shining with untold stories and secrets that Harrington would lamely listen to all night if she gave him the chance...

She held herself with such, grace - such poise - and yet, still held that charm that he loved. Y/N waved at him, her y/c/s skin almost glowing, casting a halo in his eyes...was he seeing things? Robin could see the way the light captured her perfectly in every aspect too...right?

She was shorter than him, though he didn’t mind...Steve liked that he could glance down without her knowledge throughout their days - sneaking a glimpse of a pearly smile, adorable pout, or simple bliss from solely being alive and in her presence.

“Hey, Stevers - you holdin’ down the fort okay?” Y/N asked while cocking an eyebrow teasingly. He could only sputter an answer - nodding foolishly after harshly swallowing his embarrassment down.

He watched as she and Robin exchanged some...complex...handshake (it had nothing on his and Dustin’s, pfft). “Okay? - Okay? - Y/N/N, this dingus chased off more customers than yesterday,” Buckley snorted while cackling like the wicked, wicked witch of the west (she was doing this on purpose and they both knew it....).

Y/N gave a sigh, correcting her hat to sit on her head a bit higher, walking by Steve and patting his shoulder. “Lay it on me, did you tell someone they looked pregnant? Drop their cone? Get their order wrong?” She offered, tapping her nails along the countertop.

“Mmm, bad enough. He told the girl he was basically looking for s--,” “Not. Important!” Harrington cut in with his words drowning out Robin’s - a voice crack and all...Great...just peachy...

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head while her eyes found the edge of her freckled friend’s familiar tally-chart. “You know Steve, if you’re that desperate to get back in the game, I could always hook you up,” the y/c/h haired girl told while flipping her scooper in the air and catching it; not even flinching (a trick that Harrington himself actually taught her - explaining that it’s all in the wrists -see?).

Steve gave an awkward, half-hearted laugh. Waving her off and using the excuse to attend to the next customers as his ticket out of that conversation. In the middle of Steve trying to avoid his own humiliation - he’d missed the way her lips twitched as he denied her offer...as if she’d wanted no to be his answer...

Why was Steve embarrassed about that though? - Well...it’s kinda embarrassing to tell someone that they didn’t want to be set up with their friends...because...even through all the corny jokes, horrendous pick-up lines, and random talks at work (and while babysitting, and while just...well...hanging out...) - he still couldn’t work the nerve to ask her out. After all this time...

He’d known Y/N since, what? - Diapers? Yeah...something like that. Either way, Steve was sure of one thing - he was in love with Y/N Y/L/N and there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling. In fact, he found that he kept falling...every....single...day.

He remembered growing up and the idea of even kissing a girl was just the invitation of catching cooties and dying. Steve could remember thinking that he’d never want to even be close enough to a female to...to see that her smile was slightly crooked - only because she always had this sweet little way of grinning, to begin with. He never wanted to be close enough to a girl to realize that their eyes swam more than just one color; no one shade could define the pigment contained in those orbs...

Steve had never imagined he’d want to be close enough to a girl as to remember the way she smelled. Honey and jasmine? No...sometimes it was pine and what he could only describe, as a summer’s night. Yeah...young Steve would be floored to see him now...

Then, they hit middle school; nothing changed...not too much. Steve was still skeptical about this whole girl thing, but he was slowly giving it a chance. Y/N was still his best friend - she still came over and they’d ride their bikes down to the park and sit on the swings...just talking about their day. Or sometimes, they’d just stay inside - binge as many VHSes as they could (Y/N always liked to add her two-cent. Ugh, see this is why they ended up dying! -- What? I would’ve totally taken the red one! -- She’s crazy! -- He’s so smart! -- I thought the mom would be more upset...-- Does that guy even care? -- What color is that? -- Is that misspelled? Steve, Steve! Look!).

Nothing changed...no...well, besides Harrington slowly finding himself looking a second too long at her; smiling a bit too hard at her; listening a little too much to her. He thought it was puberty doing this to him, so he pushed it aside...Then, high school...

Steve remembers it as the first day of November. They had a few months of high school under their belt and were already easing into it all. Turns out, Harrington was what they called...a chick magnet...he started young, what can he say? Though, being fifteen and only barely figuring out where his classroom was...he didn’t care. There wasn’t a reason to care about his looks just yet...he was still trying to figure out which styles were cooler (Senior boys out-ranked him by far, so he had to stand by).

The first day of November...he was walking Y/N home; as he always did (before he got his BMW and his license). She didn’t live too far from him - just down the street, taking two right, then going straight until you passed a big yellow house...stopping at the quaint grey one. He didn’t mind the walk, it was actually kinda nice just to be able to express every thought and emotion that he’d hidden throughout his day. Especially to someone who cared so much about what he had to say.

She’d been wearing his jacket - it was a bit chilly and he didn’t want to be a dick and not give her his coat (his mother would kill him if he treated Y/N wrong). And then - I fell, right? Like in the middle of friggin class...and everyone - and I mean everyone - even Daniel Corvin and he’s like...basically ‘too cool for school’ if you know what I mean. Gosh, I just...I just wish you’d been there. She had been recounting an incident in physical science, telling Steve in great detail how she’d spilled two beakers of - God knows what - on Sally McDonald and Tracie Nelson.

Then - then, Steve - I tried to help them, you know-- like get the stain out...Steve...that stain would not...come out...I thought Tracie was going to bite my head off! Steve had only laughed, getting a shove from the girl in the process. Sorry, sorry - it’s just... If I were there, Y/N - I’d have laughed at you and probably do something dumber. She had smiled at him, and somehow, someway...it was that moment...that moment on the first day of November...walking home from school on a Tuesday...had he felt it.

The sky was a cloudy grey and it had everything bathed in a drab stillness. The wind being the only evidence of time moving as it lifted Y/N’s hair to fly out behind her. Her hands were buried in the pockets of a jacket not belonging to her, too big to fit properly, yet Steve found it to fit her perfectly. Harrington had been carrying her backpack for her (gentlemanly as always) and he’d almost dropped both their bags in the process of watching her...watching her idly kick the fallen leaves as she retold the story.

It was so simple. There was nothing special about that day, he hadn’t won a basketball game (being MVP), nor had he passed some big exam, or even find out he was secretly the heir to some ancient throne...no...nothing that day could explain how he’d acted - nothing causing him to burst with happiness and emotion, the only answer? Steve simply being there with her.

He was in love...

It carried throughout his high school days. He found that despite how many baskets he shot, girls he tempted, and papers he passed...she was still...there. The feelings...still there. Y/N would sit front row, cheering louder than anyone else at his games (even committing to the away-games, claiming she’d never miss him play for the world). Y/N was always there for him when he had girl troubles (either helping him through it, or talking him out of it) - always smiling, and always supportive. Y/N would help him study - they had this tradition of Monday nights being preserved for the two of them. They’d get their week together, planning, discussing, and deciding what was best and when to do it...she was always there.

And she still was.

Standing only a few feet away; a dingy little white hat on her head as she patiently assisted some young boy with what ice cream size he wanted. Shooting Steve a wink or a goofy face whenever she had the pleasure of doing so. She was still there...after all those years...after everything, they’d gone through...and yeah, almost dying two times was enough to drive any girl - hell, anyone - away. Yet, there she was. Still there.

“Sailor boy, you wanna move or what?” Y/N asked, pursing her lips, placing a hand on the counter as she tried slipping by him to reach the mint-chocolate-chip the boy had requested. “Oh, yeah...sure,” he mumbled while shuffling to the right. “Dork,” Y/N huffed with a soft laugh, nudging him with her hip.

He looked up to hear Robin - not so casually - cough. “Ahem - ahem - Stev...a...ahhheeem....you....you suck.” It was a jab at their private conversation...one they’d had a few weeks ago when Robin, the dirty little sleuth she was...had figured out about his (long-term) feeling for Y/N Y/L/N.

What? -- You’re saying, after eighteen years...you haven’t even...tried...to ask her out, Harrington? -- It..it never c-came up! -- Mhm, sure...wow, and here I thought The Hair actually was some big shot. -- I was! - I-I am! I’m just...I don’t...want to ruin...what we have... -- Yeah, said every sad-ending love story ever.

He flipped her off after making sure no one would notice and jerked his hands up in a waggling motion, sticking his tongue out and shaking his head at her. “Wow - yeah, real mature, dingus.” Robin clapped slowly, applauding his act generously.

“Shut the hell up,” he grumbled while running his hands down his face, clawing at his cheeks dramatically popping his eyes wide.

He turned around as Y/N started talking. “You know - as much as this uniform blows - I do say, the tips aren’t bad.” She held up an extra dollar and gave a shrug.

“That’s more than Steve could ever manage,” Robin piped up while leaning out the glass window. Harrington glared at her and only faked a smile. “Please - I can make way more t-than...than that!” He exclaimed, snatching the dollar from Y/N.

“Hey--- hey! Dickhead! That’s mine! I didn’t just amuse a child for twenty-two minutes for your sorry ass to take it!” She whined while fighting a smile as Steve held it over his head, holding it to the light as if trying to figure out its authenticity.

“Mhmm, yes...yes...the serial number looks right...”

“Steeeeevvveee! S-Stop that!” Y/N giggled while jumping up, inadvertently pushing his back to the counter as he only denied her petition, snapping the bill straight a few times.

“Wait a second....is that picture drawn on?” He uttered while gasping loudly, using one arm to hold Y/N away from him as she collapsed into him, complaining and slapping his bicep mildly.

Of course, it was hard to be mad at him...even after eighteen-years, Y/N still could never find it in her to be truly cross with him (annoyed? Sure...but furious...? Not even once). Steve had this incredible gift where - anything he did was always so...good-natured, innocent, and in his own way absurd...Y/N was never given the chance to be mad.

She’d admit, the whole King Steve thing back in his late Junior year and finishing Senior year was a bit much (little did she know he’d done it to try and gain even an ounce of her attention...being dense himself and not understanding he already had it).

Y/N hadn’t rolled her eyes, or sighed more in her life than when he was in his uphold the name and keep the reputation title...don’t even mention when Hargrove came to town - oooooh, how Harrington made her blood boil -- and yet, Steve would just flash a smile and then trip over air he hadn’t noticed; falling on her bedroom floor, or in the kitchen, or living room...or anywhere possible for Steve to screw it up with his dorkiness -- and she’d still be admiring the way his brown eyes glistened with youth and blamelessness.

It was inexplainable...how she felt for Harrington - really the most difficult thing to concede. He was charming, he was sweet, he was amusing, he was Steve. And she’d been ever so lucky as to see that in him starting from a young age. Y/N couldn’t remember why it had happened...but it had...and she couldn't explain it, not for her life.

It had been late April, Steve’s birthday just around the corner...he had been turning sixteen and he’d found his proper place in their school’s social monarchy already working his way to the top (from his looks to his at-school devious persona...he fit right in). Y/N had always thought he was a bit of a show-boat, but Steve only discerned it as finally figuring out who he was (which was total BS because looking at him now - an eighteen-year-old dork who didn’t have a clue on what to do with the rest of his life...oh, boy had young Stevie been wrong).

His parents had never really been around, which Y/N blamed for his yearn for attention as a young teen. They loved him, of course, they did! -- They just worked a lot, didn’t have a lot of time...and Steve was...well...a lot...of alone. Y/N didn’t accuse him of wanting to seek the approval of his peers. She always told him if that’s what he wanted; she’d make sure he didn’t sink his own (show-boat) ship.

Tommy H. and Carol had been the ones to suggest a big party. They alleged it was his sweet-sixteen and there’d not be another one. Ugh. Y/N had never approved of the pair - Tommy was always rude and had this animalistic manner to everything he did, and Carol was a two-faced backstabber who gossiped more than the bored, middle-aged mothers’ of Hawkins.

Steve hadn’t been too keen on the idea himself - he’d told Y/N in confidence a few nights prior to the birthday bash...(he’d been laying on her bed, throwing and catching one of the stuffed animals she had resting on her mattress - one he’d gotten her to be exact). Why don’t you just tell them that? Steve had only shrugged, squeezing the plushy with a sigh. It’s not that simple, honey. Telling that to Tommy and Carol...is like telling a brick wall to stop talking... -- Steve, how the hell does that work? -- Exactly! It doesn’t!).

Y/N remembered going to that party and finding Steve being jostled around in the midst of it all. An artificial smile that only she knew to be fake in the first place. It didn’t reach his eyes, and his gaze was ducked to the floor...if Tommy H. and Carol had been real friends - they’d have seen how half-assed everything was on Harrington’s behalf.

His pool had been crowded with strangers and Y/N remembered the kitchen and living room not being much different. She’d managed to snag Harrington from the chaos and when he asked her where she was taking him, Y/N had only told Steve to shut up and buckle up.

They drove only a few minutes in soft silence down the road to her house - where he was shocked to see an already made pillow-fort built from her living room; a pile of their favorite/his favorite movies, more junk food than Steve could possibly consume, a mountain of pillows, and a collection of cozy blankets.

W-What’s all-- she’d cut him off, giving Steve a hug from behind and grinning madly. Happy birthday, dork. He’d only smiled, leaning into Y/N’s touch, hands placed over hers; savoring the moment.

That moment...had been when she realized it. He’d been half-asleep, the clock reading a quarter to four in the morning and they’d blown through every movie, picked through every snack, and cuddled with every blanket. Steve’s hair was a hot mess (the long night had drawn out the stray strands and frizzies, and yet he still pulled off the hot part better than anyone else), his eyes held dark-circles under them and he couldn’t keep his head up - a constant battle between slumping and sitting straight.

Steve had been wearing an old red Henley shirt that he’d left at her house; long-sleeved and washed clean for him in case of an emergency like so. He was as shameless as ever, even at sixteen, and had sported his stripped boxers - preferring them to his jeans (not that she’d actually complain...who would?).

Yes - Steve Harrington - the mess on her couch; his head finally falling, finding its spot on Y/N’s shoulder without him knowing...yes...that Steve Harrington was the one she’d fallen in love with in that exact moment.

It felt like a rollercoaster...building up years of friendship and trust, to finally reach the peak - seeing over the edge and only fearing the worst outcome as they began plummeting to the ground...finally reaching that point of no return where the feeling of shock and emotion could only be accepted that this was her reality...the one she’d be stuck with for eternity...her stomach doing worse than flips...

If only Y/N had known...if only she had known that more than a year before Harrington’s sweet-sixteen; a boy walking in the fall with his best friend had too, fallen in love...maybe things would’ve turned out differently. Just maybe...

Steve had finally given the tip back to the shorter girl, ruffling her hat-covered head while Y/N swatted his hand away. They’d all gone back to their actual jobs...Robin coming to do some scooping with Y/N while Steve worked in the back, every now and then switching it up...someone getting tired of taking orders, scooping, or looking through inventory and paper forums.

It wasn’t until Robin opened her mouth that their peaceful unity was broken. Damn theater kids...

“Here’s a tip for you, Steve,” she began while refilling the waffle-cones. “You learn to not be a total dingus when talking to potential customers, and you’ll rack some extra cash!” Rubbing her fingers together, Robin had invisible greens rain down on him.

Y/N could only stifle her laugh, turning head to nod in acknowledgment of another ice cream order. Steve frowned, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, some tip,” he grumbled,” I’ll give you a tip, Robin...”

Y/N clicked her tongue, turning to face the pair, Steve hanging out the window as she glanced between them. “Stevie, it’s wrong to be jealous of my talents...I mean...not everyone can be as amazing as me,” she sighed while twirling the tip she’d received before his face (what was that? The fourth one?).

“Spare me, hun - I could do so much better if I tried,” he huffed,” Problem is - I’m just trying to be nice to you, don’t wanna just...steal all your tips, darling.”

A shared staring-contest later...and it was official...a contest.

It was simple - whoever could collect the most tips of the two by the end of their shift today, would be proclaimed the “better asset to the company” (that’s how Robin explained it anyway, even forbearing a small portion of her whiteboard to keep count for them).

Luckily for them, it was an early Saturday afternoon, and the middle of summer in Hawkins, Indiana...everyone was at the Starcourt Mall if they weren’t at the pool (Y/N had heard Billy getting a job there made quite the impact).

“Ahoy! How can I help you?”

“You look like you want something sweet - how about a cone of cherry drizzle, sweetheart?”

“No, no! Take your time, dear!”

“I insist -- it’s on the house!”

“You’re literally...the best customer I’ve had! No joke!”

“I won’t lie to you - that’s my favorite flavor too.”

Sprinkling compliments here, a kind smile there, and a charming air all around - and they had themselves a competition. Somehow - Steve had found his nerve, Y/N suspected it was whatever Robin had said to him in the backroom (she’d said You know what - let me borrow him for a quick sec, mhmm, yeah...hold on, Y/N/N). Had it been a pep-talk? Maybe some solid advice...or a shot of courage. Either way - Harrington had suddenly found his cool...

It irritated Y/N to no ends, as every time she’d get a tip - he’d one-up her and get twice the amount she had. “All thanks to this,” he’d bragged, gesturing to himself while sticking his tongue out, leaning in too-close for her heart to handle. She had only scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “You mean to say, that ridiculous outfit is doing you some good, Harrington?” Earning Y/N a thump on her forehead, and Steve a slap to his chest.

Steve was in the lead right now; having received nineteen dollars...alone...in tips. Y/N was only a few dollars behind and she knew that if she really upped the ante, she could push ahead - or at least tie the snarky boy.

“You're up, Y/N,” Robin announced while spinning the black dry-erase between her fingers. They’d taken turns - after choosing a number between one-through-ten...Steve had been closer, and he’d gotten the chance to go first (but that had been rounds ago..).

She shot a look at Steve who only smiled and stretched a limb to boop her nose. She rolled her eyes, pretending to bite at him, the air taking a rather severe snap. Turning to face the customer; she missed Harrington’s flush and slack-jaw (also missing how Robin hit his face to get Steve out of the trance).

“Ahoy, cutie! Would you like to set sail on the ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your Captain - I’m Y/N...nice to serve you today.” She offered a sweet simper and held her hands behind her back as she bounced on her heels.

The boy before her, had dark hair (hair that had Harrington judged silently...it wasn’t bad...he was just criticizing how the guy managed to get volume like that - did he use Faberge too?!), and green eyes. He was rather tall, taller than Steve to give an image - Y/N suspected six-foot-two...

Broad shoulders and a kind smile to his sharp features. Y/N had to admit - this guy was...not bad looking. Easy on the eyes, at least he gave off that much. He had a blue button-up on and jeans to match, a blue and white windbreaker complimenting him nicely.

He returned her smile and Y/N felt a slight blush find her cheeks.

“Nice to have you serve me too,” he chuckled,” I’m Shawn, though cutie works just as well.” He offered Y/N his hand to shake and she took it, a short giggle bubbling from her lips as he addressed her as Captain.

“Uh-oh,” Robin teased while watching the scene unfold before her. Harrington had absently begun to grip the counter to the point of his knuckles bleeding white. “Is that...jealousy I smell?” Buckley whisper-shouted while her hands came up to pinch her face together - her lips a perfect ‘o’.

Steve ignored her, chewing on his lip as he listened to the flirting this...Shawn...character was displaying. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much - maybe because Y/N should only be laughing with him like that, smiling at him like that, and talking to him like that...this dude didn’t even know her last name...(and God, Shawn made it sound like he wanted Y/N to take his last name...).

“The special today is chocolate blast, so...if you’re interested in that - I can assure it’ll be worth your money.” Y/N explained while rotating her scooper, weaving it between her fingers. Shawn gave a nod, and then said,” You know what - surprise me, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. “Sweetheart?” Steve mumbled while being quietly laughed at by Robin. Steve’s eyes furrowed and he restrained himself from waltzing over and doing something not so company-policy employed.

“Well in that case,” Y/N hummed while glancing at the array of flavors,” I’ll give you a house favorite!” Harrington was one-hundred percent aware of how enchanting Y/N was without even trying...a dangerous skill indeed. Though he wasn’t the only one aware...

He watched the y/c/e eyed girl walk over to their glass-case freezer, leaning down to scoop a large clump of chocolate peanut butter truffle...he couldn’t tell if he were honored to have his favorite ice cream being the choice of surprise (because on one hand, Y/N chose it precisely for Harrington’s reaction, and then, on the other hand, that Steve was sure Y/N didn’t even know existed - she was giving his favorite flavor away to some random dude...).

“Looks delicious,” Shawn complimented, and Steve swears there wasn’t any reason for their hands to touch through the exchange of cone to hand.

Y/N could only nod, turning to the register as she began ringing him up. “Mhm! It’s really good!--,” “Is it your favorite?” the boy interrupted smoothly, leaning his elbows on the counter.

“Haha, no - it’s actually his,” Y/N told while scratching at her neck. The reference to Steve had him hold three fingers up in a weak attempt at hello.

Shawn eyed Harrington, sizing him up before looking back to Y/N (who did this Shawn-guy think he was?!). “Interesting choice.”

As expected, he left (an unnecessarily) large tip...not only pushing Y/N in the lead, but also pushing Steve over the edge.

The opposing man decided to stick around, even after his cone was finished...he sat at a nearby table and was bothering them as they worked (that’s how Steve perceived it anyway...).

Y/N kept getting sidetracked; thus, her score lagging behind Harrington after a few more shoppers... It looked as if she cared on some level - but Steve wasn’t an idiot and he could see how this (not him) alright-looking guy had her attention for the time being.

Normally, he’d ben enthralled to see he’d be winning their contest. He and Y/N had always had these playful kinds of competitions growing up, this wasn’t any different...except it was...because insert this random flirty dude and bam....it throws off everything.

Steve didn’t like the way Shawn would make a specific comment and Y/N would giggle, or shake her head in amusement. Steve didn’t like how Shawn would watch her as she worked - as if trying to remember a hidden pattern. Steve hated how Y/N seemed...okay with this...it drove him absolutely mad.

After roughly fifteen more minutes of Harrington trying to contain his little green gremlin - he gave up. He could only be so nice for so long...after all, he was only just a man.

“Screw this,” he murmured while throwing his hat to the side. Pushing his seat out and walking to the side door (he and Robin had been sitting in the back room while they waited, taking the time to fill a few inventory forums).

Robin raised a brow, peeping out the window to see what exactly had his tailfeather’s ruffled like a sorrowful peacock. She smirked, sputtering her reply.

“Pffft -- y-you really gonna do this? Like...like...first of all, your hat - Harrington, that’s against company policy.” Steve shrugged her off, pressing his back to the door and shoving it the rest of the way open.

“I don’t care,” he hissed. Robin only pursed her lips, arms crossing over her chest. “Mhm...well, customer satisfaction is also part of our company policy...and as far as I can tell,” she urged while her eyes flickered back to the boy talking with Y/N,” He’s looking pretty satisfied.”

Steve grit his teeth, offering a scoff before fulling exiting the room. “Screw company policy.”

“And so I sai--,” “Ahoy! -- I’m Steve,” he greeted loudly, butting into Shawn’s story. Y/N was behind the countertop, replacing an empty tub of plain chocolate with a fresh one when Steve swooped in to do it for her.

He plopped the bucket down and then leaned his arms on the counter, eyes digging into the boy sat at the table-for-two closest to the register. Steve rubbed his cheek and cleared his throat. “Steve - Steve Harrington. Nice to meet you.”

“Uh, Shawn, Shawn Gilson,” the stranger replied,” Nice to meet you t--,”

“So, uh, I dunno if you’re aware, Shawn, but - Scoops’ has this, uh,” Steve interjected while snapping his fingers, shaking his head,” This...thing - where customers who spend...too long here, are considered to be loitering.” He shrugged.

“I don’t mean to be that guy - but you should probably go,” Steve continued with a soft click of his tongue, giving a soft suck of breath as an oh, darn.

Before Shawn could answer properly, Steve was hopped over the countertop, helping the taller boy to stand up. “Yeah, I know -- it’s such a bummer,” he spoke over Shawn’s slow and mumbled objections.

“But - it is company policy...and you know--,” Harington continued, giving a final shove to the man; accidentally putting all his body weight into it,”--I’d hate to break company policy.” He winked, waving the guy off,” I uh, took an oath or something.” Hands on his hips, Steve smiled charmingly as he saw Shawn off; spinning on his heels once he believed the rival brunette a fair distance away.

“Well, that’s one way to take care of it,” Robin commented while smirking, her chin rested in the palm of her hand as she stood next to Y/N.

Y/N, throughout the entire interaction - had been astounded, confused, and then slightly flushed as Robin’s commentary had enlightened her to a few things.

“I know, right? I didn’t t-think that guy would ever leave,” Harrington scoffed, while trying to play it off, running a hand through his hair (a nervous tick Steve had that Y/N always found to be adorable).

Robin rolled her eyes, dropping her head to the countertop. Y/N giggled and walked over to Steve, meeting him halfway - now all three employees standing behind the showcases.

“Why’d you do that, Harrington? He was nice,” she noted while crossing her arms, eyeing him suspiciously. Hoping he couldn’t hear the accelerated pounding of her heart or see the shake in her legs as he placed a hand on the surface of the worktop - awfully close to Y/N from what she could judge.

Steve’s jaw was slack as his tongue skimmed his teeth. He shook his head, eyes flickering from the girl before him, to the ground. “Him? - No, no - he was testing it with me, I don’t know about...nice.” In other words, I didn’t like him and where he stands isn’t clear, but my opinion isn’t positive.

“But he was sweet! -- And I’ll agree, kinda cute.” Thus, Steve’s mind blanked completely. Robin was trying to keep herself together, mumbling a low justification of needing to sign something in the back, and leaving them to their own devices.

“What? Are you crazy? - He was staring at your ass every second you weren’t looking,” he droned,” That’s not the kind of guy you want hanging around, hun,” Steve stated, his expression finding one of bitterness and annoyance.

Y/N couldn’t get another word in, Steve going on a heated rant about how unfit this flirty visitor was for her. He’d been winded afterward, having used a wild amount of hand movements and lecturing quite fast - all in one breath. He finished with slapping his palm to the granite counter, driving back his hair as Steve recollected what he’d just said and what had happened...Shit.

“Tell me, Harrington,” Y/N started while looking up to her tall best friend. “What kind of guy would you want hanging around me?”

He choked on his own spit and took a few heartbeats to figure out what to say without breaking every piece of friendship and relation they already had.

“Well,” Steve sighed, wiping his hands on his ugly uniform, they were clammy and his fingers trembled. “You...you deserve someone who...who knows you. I dunno.”

Steve licked his lips and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and deciding to just...say it...after five...heartwrenching years of waiting; craving; pining...This probably wasn’t the first time he’d acted so irrationally...just the first time there’d been a girl named Robin to expose him...

“You deserve a guy who won’t give up on you...even after years of doubting himself. Someone who will be there when you’re upset, and never leave when you’re at your lowest point, Y/N/N. A guy who wants nothing more than to make you smile, because...Gosh, do you have such a pretty smile...He’d be satisfied with just seeing you happy - you know? - even if that means he’s not.”

“Someone who loves that...that you always air-dry your hair because it’s easier than doing anything else, even if that guy insists on proper hair care. Darling...you...you deserve someone who cherishes you in every way possible, savoring the way your laugh sounds after you recite some dumb joke, or die a little when you kick ass in the arcade.”

“Someone who knows that you hate reading books with bent pages, and when you walk, you sometimes skip every other step - almost like a hop. Y/N...you deserve someone who has never wanted anything from you...just...just for you to look at them like they look at you.” He lamented.

“And - I know...it’s stupid - but...you deserve someone who won’t just flirt with you because he can. Someone who’ll flirt with you even when you’re with him because he knows you think those stupid pickup-lines and cheesy jokes are endearing.” His voice cracked and he couldn’t help but bite his lip apprehensively.

“I...I...I just think...maybe you’re just...looking in the wrong places,” Steve mumbled. Head hanging low. What the hell was he saying? What the actual hell was he thinking?

“Because...I...I don’t wanna sound like a narcissist...but...I always kinda thought...the kind of guy you’d...you’d end up with--,” he paused his eyes searching Y/N’s for the strength to finish.

“Was me.” He breathed.

Steve exhaled shortly, and restated,” I always thought you’d end up with me, Y/N.”

She’d been quiet throughout his speech. Earlier, while Harrington had been escorting Shawn out...Robin had spoken to her.

You know, he’s in love with you, right? -- W-What? -- Y/N...don’t be serious right now. -- Robin - I-I don’t know what you’re talking about! -- You...you seriously have no idea? Like, seriously, Y/N? -- Robin, I-I don’t know.

All Steve does, is talk about you. Think about you. Want to be with you...he told me he’s loved you since he was fifteen, Y/L/N! -- Why...didn’t he say anything?

Fear is a very powerful sentiment, Y/N. He was scared you wouldn’t return his feelings. -- He...he never acted differently towards me though.

Are you crazy? He practically knows you better than you know you. He didn’t need to act differently because he was just always himself around you. And you see that? See him over there? That, that my friend, is jealousy. Probably one of the most powerful aphrodisiacs there is.

The dirty-blonde had then asked her a question that Y/N had tried to overcome, bury deep within her...to forget about and hopefully never think of again...it...it never had worked.

Do you love him too?

Y/N hadn’t been given the opportunity to clarify, Steve strutting back to them in that oddly proud and embarrassed manner of his. Y/N teased him like she would any other time he acted like a dork...but, asking such a simple question to try and prove Robin right or wrong - had turned the conversation sober faster than her head could keep up with.

Her lungs hurt; had she been breathing throughout the minutes passing? She couldn’t remember - dumbly taking a few gasps, her eyes wide and her hands shaking pulled to her chest. Y/N bit her lip and when she saw the anxiety and panic in Steve’s eyes...she melted.

“I-It took you long enough, Harrington,” she stammered, throwing her arms around his neck, her hat falling off in the process. He tensed at her touch until reality hit and he felt all the air escape his chest - finally sinking into her like he needed her to stand.

Y/N was basking in the moment; relishing the scent of his cologne (the classic Calvin Klein Eternity), the smell of a light floral blended with a woody amber clashed with Steve’s natural musk perfectly. It was comforting. It was absolutely intoxicating.

She hid her face in his shoulder while she felt the tickle of his breath in the crook of her neck. “I...I kinda always thought I’d end up with you too.”

Steve was silent at that, but slowly, slowly; he erupted into laughter. Laughing at himself for having been so scared all these years! After all that damn time...she’d felt the same way! Waiting probably just as long as him! Patiently waiting for Steve’s cowardly self to man up! After all this damn time...she had loved him too.

Robin was slow clapping, using a fake, posh accent to congratulate them. “Bravo, bravo! Steve finally grew a pair!” Y/N was laughing, the vibration of Harrington’s own excitement leaking into her reaction.

The freckled girl gasped, slapping her hands on the counter as she leaned out the shutters. “Dingus - you know what this means...right?” Steve’s face was blank, his arms tightly wound around Y/N still as he tried to figure out what Robin was referring to.

When it hit him, he gave this strangled noise of accomplishment. Harrington picked Y/N off her feet and swung her around a bit, clumsily knocking a few paper bowls to the ground (not that it wasn’t unusual for him to do something so senseless).

“I-It means I rock!” He gushed while placing Y/N to sit on the countertop, jumping around like a child. Just another reason Y/N had fallen in love with him...he never seemed to grow up fully, but she was okay with that...things never got old with Steve.

Robin nodded somberly, pulling the notorious chart back out and drawing on that one, single line that Harrington had been anticipating...

“Yes!” He shouted, not caring eyes from outside the shop were staring. “I finally did it! Fuck! In your face, Robin!” He leered with a bright smile. Buckley rolled her eyes.

“Mhm, don’t get ahead of yourself, dingus. You haven’t actually asked her out... I can take this victory away, you know?” Robin threatened while hovering a hand over the lone tally-mark.

The brunette whipped around, his hair tousled from his jumpiness. He stepped to Y/N quickly who had only been laughing at his interaction with Robin; taking her by surprise when he stood between her legs, hand cupping her face. Steve’s free arm snaked around her waist. His smile looked like it hurt, but Steve didn’t seem to mind.

“So...,” he started, enjoy the display of pink on Y/N’s beautiful features. His mind wandered back to their earlier competition and he bit his lip, trying to contain the satisfaction. “I won our little challenge...,” he drawled while pressing his forehead to hers.

Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes. She pinched his cheek and poked his side. “After all...that...you ruin the moment with this? Cocky much?”

“No, no, let me finish,” he chuckled, his brown eyes glistening with affection and adoration. “I have about twenty-five extra dollars to spend,” he explained,” Whaddya say to me treating you to a date? I mean...how else can I cheer you up? You must be so sad about losing to the likes of me.”

Y/N grinned. “Oh, but of course -- I don’t think I’ll ever recover from a loss like that...sighhhh...the only cure is...dinner and a movie?” Y/N expressed dramatically leaning back from his chest, a hand pulled to her forehead.

Steve pouted. “Wait...you just asked me on the date...I...I was supposed to ask you!” Y/N shrugged,” Does it matter?”

“Yes! It does matter! You can’t take this from me!” He cried while shaking his head and jutting his lip out.

Y/N snorted, shaking her head at how utterly adorable Steve was. “Fine...I take it back. No dinner and a movie.”

Silence followed.

“This was supposed to be more romantic, you know, but you fucking ruined it,” Harrington accused while laughing, his serious expression breaking.

Y/N scoffed, striking his chest. “Listen, Sailor Boy - if you weren’t such a moron yo--,” and then he kissed her.

It was soft, it as sweet, it was better than anything she’d ever imagined. Her arms circled his neck and his hand pulled Y/N’s face to his as close as humanly possible--

“We run a business, guys,” Robin reminded while gagging and flicking Steve in the forehead as she walked around the counter, trying to awkwardly apologize to a couple that neither Y/N nor Harrington noticed.

Steve helped her slide off the countertop, mumbling a hello to the customers. He looked to Y/N and smothered his amusement at her red face.

While Robin was serving the pair, Steve tried to be useful and helped Y/N fix their topping containers. “So,” he started, clearing his throat and closing the lid of rainbow sprinkles. “Let me try again.”

Y/N hummed, egging him on.

“Y/N - the girl of my dreams, the person I’ve had a crush on for five terrible years...Will you go on a date with me?” Steve asked, turning to face her with a soft smile. “Please?” He added quickly.

Y/N popped a chocolate-chip in her mouth, a small smirk playing on her pink lips. “I would love to go on a date with you, Steve. After all, you did say please.”

Steve didn’t regret breaking company policy...no...not at all.

a/n footer: I thought this request was sooo cute! <3 I hope it’s to your liking @billyhargrovescigarette :) I loveddddd writing it!

Tagged List: @novaddictx @mairalynn416 @wefracturedmotivation @truthdaze @xxcxrolinexx @savingprivatecass @emmalbg @timeladygallifrey @the-first-breath-of-autumn-air @billyhargrovescigarette @krystalane @truthdaze @neverlandsoundsgood @friendlyneighbourhoodmercenary @imarockstar145 @foryoubarnes @winchestergirl907 @anniethepanda @gwenebear @lavenderluvs @werdenkt @just-ladyme @un-deroos

#stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #joe keery

558 notes · View notes

secretgamergirl · 4 years

Text

Hate Mobs Gotta Go

Last night, I did something I have never expected to do, and just full on gave up on a fun RPG writing assignment. Which I had to do because I hit a point where it was so overdue and unfinished that I was falling asleep sitting up and stress vomiting and other such things. There’s a whole lot of factors behind that. Other health issues, the toll of being on total pandemic lockdown for months, with neighbors just straight up open mouth coughing at my door, emergencies with friends and family, multiple fires and hardware failures, but the main thing was, and still is, the constant harassment from a militant hate mob, completely out of touch with reality.

Years ago, I remember there was this thing the internet at large was fond of doing with foaming at the mouth far right religious extremists- Mercilessly ridiculing them in public to expose how disconnected everything they said or did was from reality. Remember seeing this one float around and laughing your head off?

And if I mention the Westboro Baptist Church, you immediately picture a single family of raving bigots picketing funerals and such with their big homophobic signs, with a bigger crowd mocking them, right?

For some reason, the modern version of that particular flavor of fringe weirdo doesn’t get that sort of ridicule. Presumably because they’re focusing almost exclusively on trans people, and most people have this weird thing where like if you stick up for trans people you get cooties or something and never dig into the real juicy ridicule fodder. But for real, this stuff is OUT THERE. Just look at a few examples here.

Come for the weird ravings about harvesting baby organs. Stay for the... adult woman who apparently believes breasts get their shape from actually being sacks filled with milk under women’s skin? Now, how about this colorful comparison?

For anyone who wasn’t aware, pronouns are words like “I” “you” “he” “she” “it” and “this,” while rohypnol is colloquially known as “the date rape drug,” so this is utter gibberish. The full context of course is that this person is trying to make the argument that forcing this bigot to refer to women she’s prejudiced against as “she” instead of arbitrarily tossing around “he” or “it” is... raping her brain, I guess?

So... this is pretty clearly some creep’s weird little fantasy. The obvious giveaway is pretending that trans women “aren’t in the correct bathroom” when going to... the correct bathroom, and that the non-existent law about this is somehow enforced by... random bigots opting to deputize themselves. What DOES happen for real though is bigots like this being arrested for barging into public restroom stalls with camcorders aimed at the crotches of women on toilets and trying to defend themselves by insisting they have some duty to check what their genitals look like. On which note...

That’s just disgusting. It’s also as close as I feel comfortable to posting all the graphic fantasies I see from these people about the barbaric genital mutilation they imagine trans women subject ourselves to which really has no basis at all in reality. Well maybe I can post this one.

I’m not going to go through and itemize all the baldfaced lies in that, because I really kinda hope I don’t have to, and also because the person who slapped this together was kind enough to break it up in such a way that I legitimately can say “every single line of this is a completely baseless lie.” Also the art in the corner is stolen from a child-friendly comic whose author is trans, so, that’s extra slimy. Also wow that “bone scans” bit is actually one I’ve never seen. Where the hell do they even get these ideas?

Also this one needs some setup. If you have time, this right here is a freaking journey, if not, I’ll try to summarize.

So a while ago, this one particular unhinged bigot decided the most productive way to spend all her time was to get in touch with a bulk sticker printing business and order thousands if not millions of these weird gross poorly framed slabs with a really crude drawing of a penis and bunch of gibberish she really wishes were the names of popular twitter hashtags that nobody else but her ever uses. And then after receiving these, just... wandering around the city she lives in all day every day plastering them on phone booths and power poles and the mirrors of bathrooms in like.. elementary schools and park benches, just everywhere. And then makes multiple passes a day apparently to make sure nobody has tried to remove any of them, as detailed in this amazing thread I’ll link again.

So the latest break in that particular saga is that same zealot going around plastering stickers like this around too, to make it seem like “both sides do it.”

It should be obvious that that’s a “blacks rule!” sort of fake between the baffling text and using the extra inclusive, particular emphasis on supporting people of color, general purpose LGBT+ flag, but also, like their fellows on 4chan, they plan this sort of “false flag” crap in broad daylight:

I should really properly credit the whistle-blowing on that particular oddity, and I should also note that aside from the breast milk sacks, this is all just stuff I saw TODAY catching up on my twitter feed, but my main point with all this is to illustrate that we really are dealing with Jack Chick/Westboro Baptist-level unhinged zealotry... but again, nobody’s out there pointing and laughing. And it turns out, when you don’t have people pointing and laughing at this sort of thing, you get people taking it seriously. So... when I went to quickly search for a news story to link with the bit about creeps barging in on women with cameras, the results I got were... this.

That... sure is a lot of stories about totally innocent people in a demographic I belong to being murdered by total strangers goaded into blind murderous hatred by the sort of people I’m pointing and laughing at! Ha ha! There’s a very real chance of that happening to me every time I step outside, for any reason! Tee hee! I live in a state of constant fear! Whoopsie!

And it’s not just stuff like that. The people posting these rambling tirades about “breast milk sack implants” and putting crude penis stickers everywhere, never being called out as the unhinged weirdos they are, either have the world turning a blind eye to all this crap, or have everything they do downplayed in the media to the point where outright sexual harassment, doxing, and slurs I don’t want to repeat get headlines like “so-and-so made comments that some fringe trans activists on the internet deem ‘possibly transphobic’” and that’s AT BEST. More often you get stuff like the one incident I managed to bring a lot of public attention to way back when, where some bigot just literally walked up to someone on the street, grabbed them, savagely beat the hell out of them until pulled apart, had friends film the whole thing, and bragged after the fact about it, and every story that appeared as a result claimed the assailant was the victim, because they were all written by her friends.

Face obscuring provided by me here, by the way.

And that isn’t a one-off incident. Because, see, most of these unhinged weirdos spewing out all this transphobic gibberish are not, as you would think, a bunch of barely educated Trump hat wearing members of some fringe religious congregation. They’re editors and producers in major British news outlets. This isn’t me shouting conspiracy nonsense either, this is well-documented. Like, The Guardian gets public internal protests over this crap. So does the BBC. Yes, other respected news sites cover this. Media watchdog groups do their best to reign this in with hearings and such, but, don’t actually have any power to enforce anything really. So when there’s “reporting” on this crap, it’s coming directly from the “breast milk sack implant” people. Oh and here’s some screenshots of the headlines of those stories you’re too lazy to click through and actually read:

And of course, sometimes when they want to really come across as respectful, they try to find “scientists” and “doctors” who back up their ravings but all they have to fall back on are disgraced quacks who spend most of their time on activism work to normalize pedophilia.

I’m not bringing that point about Cantor up to discredit his writings about trans people by the way. He doesn’t really HAVE any writings about trans people. He just pasted the names of a bunch of random studies from the 70s about whether playing with barbies makes you gay into his blog a few years back and this crowd was so desperate for validation they declared him an “expert in the field” and started passing out links to his.... pro-pedophila blog. Which is part of this whole pattern, but I’ve written about that before. Oh and the governments of multiple countries manage to treat all these people as “experts” and make policy decisions based on their ravings. That’s fun.

Anyway, aside from encouraging random people to, you know, just randomly murder anyone they see who looks like maybe a trans woman, every so often this weird little cult pulls in an actual celebrity who then has a public meltdown as they post all this gibberish to a wider audience. Currently this is going on with Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling (who’s actively promoting the pedophile guy up there on Twitter), and I think also William Shatner, but I haven’t really looked into it. The last big one though was Graham Linehan. Who you might remember from co-writing some sitcoms that were popular decades ago in Britain, or from being the weird cartoon villain who tried to kill the funding of a children’s charity, prompting this strange pledge drive marathon of Donkey Kong Country.

You might also know him as one of... I think honestly just two people who have ever managed to be such out of control stalking hate mongers that they were actually given a permanent no possible appeal ban from Twitter. Personally though I know him more as, you know, that one absolute creep who’s been obsessively stalking me for like 5 years and never shutting up about his weird personal obsession with me.

I WOULD link the recent freaking filmed interview he did where he spent forever rambling about me, but I’d have to actually watch it to confirm I had the right link, and also the only place I could quickly find a link to it would be on his twitter feed, which as stated, no longer exists. Oh and random side note there, despite being personally, by name, the person he was explicitly targeting all his hateful ramblings at, he wasn’t banned from that site for any of the disgusting stuff he said to me. He just slipped up and mentioned a cis woman with a professorship while shouting about this crap recently and that caused people to actually take action. I do so love being invisible.

Anyway, point is, prior to Rowling grabbing the baton from him as his social media presence went up in flames, this guy was name-dropping me a LOT. Presumably he still is, just in places fewer people see it. And when you have as big an audience as he did, and that audience is as full of hatemongers as his was, that has a pretty noticeable effect. I’ve been deluged with so much hateful garbage for so long it’s impossible for me to put any numbers on it. The closest I can do to quantify it is note that hate dump was big enough that I was also flooded with more weird messages intended as support from total strangers than I could deal with, totally losing access to social media feeds and my e-mail from the volume for a good bit, and THAT flood was big enough that I got this whole second wave of creepy stalkers who’d built up this whole weird fanon where this stalker here is like, someone I used to date or be business partners with and not just some creepy dude like twice my age stalking me over the internet, from a completely different hemisphere.

And I mean... in the broadest of strokes, I can kinda laugh all this off. Because... these people are completely ridiculous, out of touch with reality, and mostly live in other countries. But... all the threats and shouting are very real and very constant and like.. picture someone outside on the street shouting at your windows about how they’re going to break in and kill you. You really can’t ignore that. Even if they’re unarmed, and all they’re really capable of doing is shouting and pounding on your door, you can’t really just ignore that shouting and pounding and just watch a movie or play a game or write this article you promised would be done 3 months ago. You can certainly try, but a pretty big part of your brain is going to be occupied with thoughts about how maybe you should call someone to see if they’ll escort this violent person away, or maybe you should barricade your door in case all that pounding does something.

And I mean this isn’t a bad metaphor for how all the constant threats and stalking I’m dealing with thanks to celebrity bigots personally obsessed with me impacts my life, but it also does a pretty good job of describing how my night went pretty recently when I ACTUALLY DID HAVE SOMEONE POUNDING ON MY ACTUAL REAL PHYSICAL DOOR SHOUTING ABOUT STABBING ME TO DEATH, and no, there was no resolution to that beyond the sound of sirens causing that person to back off.

I also had an experience not too long ago where I was supposed to take a cab to a routine appointment, a car showed up with the cab company’s name on it, somewhat early, and proceeded to drive me... out to the middle of the freaking woods like an hour from where I live, and when my phone rang with my actual cab asking where I was the driver freaked out, had me get out of the car, and took off leaving me just... stuck in the middle of nowhere freezing to death and trying to find a landmark an actual cab could pick me up from. Still don’t know what the hell that whole thing was about and whether a cab driver just REALLY didn’t know what he was doing and panicked or what, but I do know that talking about it publicly in the vaguest of terms lead to a bunch of unhinged shouting from... apparently some unconnected ride share driver with a habit of dumping trans women between stops when they try to get medications or something, convinced I was calling him out for that.

So.... yeah. Things aren’t exactly going great in my neck of the woods. I’d really appreciate it if people would properly treat these unhinged violent weirdos like unhinged violent weirdos and not respectable members of society so they quit getting so bold and public with the violent stuff, and people who listen to them get properly shouted down for doing so.

#transphobia #stalking

5 notes · View notes

turing-tested · 6 years

Note

Why do you insist on people using human pronouns for you if you're not a human? Do you just want to be treated like a human socially but without having to be held accountable for having real skin and bones? Do you just have a bunch of internalized robot phobia (robobia) and thus feel the need to aggressively distance yourself from gears and cranks and shit (hell yeah) to avoid cooties?

wig

148 notes · View notes

therpmemes · 6 years

Text

hairspray → lyrics starters

slightly edited in some cases to work for rp purposes. feel free to change phrasing or pronouns to fit your muse(s)!

❝ I woke up today feeling the way I always do. ❞

❝ When I start to dance, I'm a movie star. ❞

❝ What good's a man's world without a woman by his side? ❞

❝ I'm your man and you're my girl. ❞

❝ I'm your king and you're my queen. ❞

❝ Oh Mother, not more ancient history! ❞

❝ Oh, my God, how times have changed! ❞

❝ Wake up from that dream of yours, this isn't 1930. ❞

❝ Remember -- Mother knows best. ❞

❝ You/He/She/They will never get a date in those hand-me-down clothes. ❞

❝ She'll never get a date 'til Daddy buys her a new nose. ❞

❝ Do you dance like you dress? ❞

❝ First impressions can be tough and when I saw you, I knew it. ❞

❝ I think they secretly liked you! ❞

❝ He touched me, he looked at me and stared. ❞

❝ Everybody says that a girl who looks like me can't win his/your love. ❞

❝ I won't go all the way, but I'll go pretty far. ❞

❝ This heavyweight champion takes the prize. ❞

❝ Everybody says that a guy who's such a gem won't look my way, well, the laugh's on them. ❞

❝ Everybody warns that he won't like what he'll see but I know that he'll look inside of me. ❞

❝ It's hard having fun playing with yourself. ❞

❝ Take me home and then unwrap me. ❞

❝ I don't come cheap but the kisses come free. ❞

❝ I haven't left this house in years. ❞

❝ The neighbors haven't seen me since I was a size ten. ❞

❝ It's been years since someone asked me to dance. ❞

❝ Take your old-fashioned fears and just throw them away. ❞

❝ I'm the cutest chickie that you ever did see. ❞

❝ I can't see why people look at me and only see the color of my face. ❞

❝ I'm tired of covering up all my pride. ❞

❝ The people around here can barely pay their rent. They're trying to make dollar out of fifteen cents. ❞

❝ Don't be stingy, I'm a growing girl. ❞

❝ I'm big, blonde and beautiful. ❞

❝ Don't you sniff around for something fluffy and light. We need a man who brings a man-size appetite. ❞

❝ I'll let you lick the spoon. ❞

❝ They say that white has might and thin is in. Well, that's just bull. ❞

❝ Who wants a twig when you can climb the whole tree. ❞

❝ You’re timeless to me. ❞

❝ You're like a stinky old cheese, babe. Just getting riper with age. ❞

❝ You're fat and old, baby, boring, you ain't. ❞

❝ You're stuck with me until the bitter end ❞

❝ You'll always be du jour, mon amor. ❞

❝ We lost so many on the way. ❞

❝ I never looked inside myself, though on the outside, I looked good! ❞

❝ You made me the man I am today. ❞

❝ I'm in love with you no matter what you weigh. ❞

❝ Without love, life is like the seasons with no summer. ❞

❝ I like the way I am. ❞

❝ If you don't like the way I look, well, I just don't give a damn. ❞

❝ I know we've come so far but we've got so far to go. ❞

❝ She's got cooties! ❞

❝ If I were her I'd be depressed. ❞

❝ Stop telling me what to do. ❞

❝ Don't treat me like a child of two. ❞

❝ I know that you want what's best but please, give it a rest. ❞

❝ I'm a big girl now. ❞

❝ Once upon a time I used to play with childhood toys, but now I'd rather play around with older boys. ❞

❝ You're the one who taught me how to twist and shout, because you shout non-stop and you're twisted too. ❞

❝ You always taught me what was right from wrong, and now I just wanna give it a try. ❞

❝ I've been in the nest for far too long. ❞

❝ Someday I will meet a man you won't condemn and we will have some kids and you can torture them. ❞

#rp starters #roleplay starter #roleplay meme #rp meme #rp sentence starters

307 notes · View notes

transboygenius · 6 years

Text

SE4SON: Chapter 1

Can...

Our story begins with Retroville's monarch of all things cool, Nick Dean, shutting himself in his bedroom, with the door locked. He sat at his desk, writing on a piece of paper with light hovering over. Every word he wrote down was in cursive. He was trying to complete a romantic letter to an unknown kid he wants to confess his true feelings for, but that kid should never know who their secret admirer is. That kid already has a partner of their own, or at least he thinks so. Not only has Nick disguised his handwriting for an identity seal, but also the note never included any pronouns or references to the writer's gender. Why go through all that trouble? Because, young reader, that kid he's writing to is a boy. Not a girl, a boy. A boy that left the young man's heart throbbing. The boy, probably straight, would freak out if Nick introduced himself as another boy in the letter. It's best if Nick didn't give the boy any hints of the writer being male, but he doesn't have to give any hints that he's female either.

This boy; He was short, arrogant, serious, nerdy, somewhat of a prick, he's the fault of all the calamity he saves us from, but Nick couldn't help but still adore him. Said boy has gotten on his nerves occasionally, but he always forgave him in the end. He can't stay mad at someone he's deeply fond with. He was talented, brave, and spirited, something that aroused Nick. While others find him annoying, Nick finds him cute. Of course, nobody should know that, so he plays along with the crowd. They wouldn't mind Nick being attracted to a nerd, but they would since this nerd is a boy like him. Nick would treat him like any other kid would, but inside, he apologizes afterwards. In all truth, he sympathized with the boy, but he's not allowed to be opened about it. Everything this boy did impressed him, as well as inspired him too. Luckily, nobody has ever caught Nick with any signs of him having a crush on said boy, because they are unaware of the young man's talent. He's a pretty good damn actor, one of the best you might say. He hasn't gotten all those main leads in school plays just by sitting around. However, what they don't know is that Nick also acts offstage, in real life. He's afraid people are not ready to know the real him, especially who he's in love with. Not even his own mom could see through his acting performances.

Boy and boy don't belong together, everyone says. They can be brothers, or friends, but not lovers. The same implies for girl and girl. In fairytales, the prince will only get a happy ending with a princess. In television and movies, two boys and two girls aren't allowed to show affection towards each other, so either will only end up with their intended opposite-gender love interest. Nick has seen it all, and it makes him sick to the core. These hetero romances in fiction are always so boring, forced, and unrealistic. Who falls in love in the middle of a battlefield? Why are love-hate (or abusive) relationships considered cute? That character could've had a much more healthier relationship with their same-sex bud. When queer characters are featured in media, which can only be aimed towards older audiences, they are portrayed as villains, then killed off in the end. And when not playing the villains' role, they are still killed off. All Nick asks for is positive representation of people like him, so he can actually love himself for once. Male and female romances are what people describe as "normal love." Meaning, you're only normal if you're heterosexual.

...anybody...

As for his feelings for said boy, he hasn't felt this way for another boy since preschool. During those early years, he had a crush on a boy, who loved to play dress-up and make macaroni art. Nick even drew a picture of them holding hands together. He didn't know anything about sexual orientation at that time, or what was considered right/wrong, he just believed in love. That afternoon, before Nick's mom came to pick him up, he walked up to that boy with a flower in hand. The boy freaked out and backed away in the corner, throwing building blocks towards him while saying Go away! Nick was just confused. Maybe he picked the wrong flower, he thought. When the children's parents finally arrived, the boy ran to his dad for comfort, and told him everything that happened today with a "scary boy."

This stirred up conflict between the boy's father, and his father, each one of them trying to put the blame on whose fault is it for Nick being into boys. When his emotional abusive father returned, he set Nick down on a chair, and yelled at him for two whole hours, cursing while hitting him with degrading words that stung his brain like needles. His father then showed him some old newspaper articles on the ugly truth, with graphic imagery, about how society treats minorities like him. He even threatened to boil him alive if he ever catches him being lovey-dovey to another boy again. Not really, but he knew how to scare his son straight. Daniel Dean didn't have any concern for Nick, he just didn't want to live under the same roof with a f*gget. After their man-to-man talk, Daniel restricted Nick of TV and his toys for two months. His mother was never angry, but she solely took his attraction in boys as a phase. He's currently 12 now, and he still hasn't grown out of this so-called phase.

Although Daniel walked out on his family a year later, part of him still remained with Nick. He's not here to hurt him, but that doesn't mean anyone else won't. He scared he might get shot in the head just for winking at a boy. Two male friends can't hug each other without being called sissies. If a boy takes interest in feminine things, such as glitter or Bonnie dolls, he is deemed a circus freak. No doubt, being openly gay in this society is dangerous. His kind is subjected to crude jokes and violence. Gay people are often visualized as explicit beings, and grown-ups fear children will start engaging into sexual activities if they're ever exposed to a same-sex pair kissing or holding hands. Most folks just find their way of love repulsive. Worse, Nick's a gay minor. Parents think they have the right to presume sexuality for their kids, looking upon homosexuality as for adults. He could grow up into a professional athlete, he could have muscles bigger than on any man alive, he could even take down a whole war by himself, but none of that will matter if he's gay. No amount of macho will save him from being dehumanized. Ever since he moved to first grade, he changed his image, took on a new personality, and lived as Retroville's new bad boy. He flirted with multiple girls, and kissed them on the cheeks. This was not who he really was, but people liked him that way. He has been living his entire life behind a mask. It can be tiresome pretending to be someone you're not, but it's what he does to protect his identity, even from who he loved. Nick Dean is the most popular kid in school, and if his true self ever came out, his social life would plummet.

As he reached fourth grade, he stopped all the kissing and flirting, for his own relief. Successfully convincing everybody he's straight, there's no need to try no more. However, he still lets his groupies get all over him. He doesn't have to persuade girls anymore, because now he can ignore them if he wants. Those poor empty headed broads; always fawning over him and trying to touch him. The other day, one of them stole his shorts from his gym bag. Sometimes, they will even fight each other for his love. Friendships were even ruined over sheer jealousy, just for talking to Nick. They'll take anything from the most gorgeous boy in town, whether he wears it or it came out of his mouth. While Nick respects them, and appreciates the fandom they built around him, he'd love them more if they all just leave him alone. He doesn't want any of those girls, nor do those girls have any chance of winning his heart. The only girl in his life is Betty, and she's his best friend.

...find me...

His eyes only set on one person, and that's the said boy. However, like the girls on him, Nick isn't likely to win the love of this boy, cuz he's probably straight. The boy used to hate girls, but it was only a phase most little boys go through: The cootie-phase. Nick never had a cootie phase, he had been gay all his life. This boy hit on multiple girls. Some were older than him. Said boy was head over heels for Betty Quinlan, tried to sweep this rodeo chick off her feet, and is possibly romantically involved with that Cindy Vortex. How? They hated each other. All the boys hate Cindy. Yet, Nick watched them as they slowly grow closer to each other. Things are changing, and so are they. The way those two suddenly turn nervous for one another, speak sweetly, and almost kiss. He once caught them playing footsie under the table, when he dropped to pick up his pencil. Their relationship is a hot and cold mess, yet they still don't part. One day, they're at one another's throats. The next, they're back to sweethearts. Day one, she strangles him to a near death, but then day two, they are going out to lunch hand in hand as if nothing happened.

The pairing was distastefully dysfunctioned, but why doesn't the boy see it? One thing for sure. Him and Cindy are both smart. Nick gets C's and B's. She always participated with him during missions. Nick's the one to only watch the events happen before him, maybe because said boy never asked him to tag along. The boy had more potential with Cindy than any other girl. She's always there for him, not Nick, despite her bratty and violent behavior. Nick does absolutely nothing about this, however. How could he even compete with that? Cindy used to be infatuated with Nick, but she was probably using him to make said boy jealous. Good thing Nick sought no interest in her. He hated seeing Cindy and the boy together. The way they hold hands and flirt twisted his stomach in knots. He could be a better lover to that boy than Cindy, and give him whatever he wants, but Nick knows he had no right to interfere.

This was the life of said boy, and he should do whatever makes him happy. Those two are together because they love each other. Nick's love is merely unrequited. What's the use of trying to win over a boy who doesn't love him back, especially if he's possibly straight? It's better if Nick just stayed out of the way, as usual. People think Nick is strong as he is, but they don't know he's mentally weak. Everyday, he's walking down that sidewalk, with an expression all relaxed and a sly grin upon his face. He may look like he's fine, and he's done a great job fooling the others too, but as he reaches home, he locks himself in his room, then lets out the tears he's been holding back. This boy is always on his mind, and Nick can't help but think about him, even while skateboarding through town. That could explain his numerous leg breaking accidents. If he truly loves this said boy, then he should respect who this boy really loves, even if it leaves him unhappy and lonely.

Every night, he puts all his energy into writing a full page letter, under an anonymous name. He wants that boy to know how much he means to him. He can't tell that boy up front and in person. If he is straight, then there's a good chance he might be homophobic, too. No way he could afford to live another preschool trauma. Just because they can't be together, doesn't mean Nick can't share how he feels. The boy can love whoever he wants, and whoever he chooses to be with is up to him, but Nick fears he will never get this angst off his chest unless this boy hears out his treasured secret. Every word is written by heart, and taken out of his head. Writing these letters always left his face glowing crimson red. His heart raced a beat. Cindy may have won the battle, but that boy deserves to know there is somebody else out there who loves him more than any other girl alive.

"Hi. We've interacted plenty of times before. Not sure if we're friends, and not sure if we're acquaintances either. You probably have no idea who's writing this. Well, it's best for the both of us. You may be unaware of this, but you don't know how loved you are. All those disasters that happen from your little cyber toys, I know they weren't your fault. From what I see, you were only trying to prove something. Hey, little man, it's okay. You still have a long way to go. Try being positive about yourself, because you being positive brings a smile on my face. You are creative, talented, and much more stronger than I am. Not physically strong, but strong in the real way. You make me proud. People say you are arrogant and show-offy, but that doesn't bother me. I've met guys far worse than that. I have been within those crowds of your peers, laughing at you, taunting you, but to be honest, I did that only as a cover up. Nobody would ever let me live it down if they knew how I really felt. I don't think they'd let me sympathize with you either. It can hurt me, just as it hurts you. These boundaries are the reason why we're separate.

Listen, and listen good: I love you. There, I said it. I really needed to say something. No human being has ever made me feel this way in a long time. To me, you are worth more than anything valuable in the world, and no way I'd sell you. You play a much important part in my life than you think. I see you already have a significant other of your own. Cindy is her name, isn't it? Look, it says so on fate that we were never meant to be. I'm clearly not worthy enough for you, since I've mostly been absent in your presence. You're allowed to be with anyone you wish, and I have no intention of convincing you out of it. I'm only writing this to you because I feel I won't get any satisfaction unless you hear me out. If you were my sweetheart, I'd give you anything you want, just to make you happy. I wouldn't lay a single finger on you without your consent first. If you're ever in need for comfort, or a shoulder to cry on, I'll be there when you need me. Want me to get lost forever? I can do that! Please, you don't have to consider my love. I hope you understand."

Nick looked down on the letter. He seems to put more effort into creativity than his actual schoolwork/homework. The letter isn't quite finished yet. All he needs to do now is seal it into an envelope, ask for a hall pass during class, and slip it into the boy's locker without getting caught. It's time to set the record straight. He loves that boy, and damn right, he's gonna tell him he loves him before Vortex does.

“GOD DAMMIT!”

Rage broke out for no reason. He took the letter and tore it to shreds. He never tears the envelope though, with said boy's name written on it. It happens every night after completing a note. Based on his opinion, none of them come out right the way he wants them to sound. He's been doing this for a year and two months already. He might as well give up. Laying his chin down on his desk, he picked up a small picture frame besides his lamp, looking eye to eye contact with it. It was a picture of the boy he loved. Why does he bother to continue looking at it when all it brings him is pain? He can't keep wasting his time and energy on a boy he knows he can never have. He can live with being gay. It's the perception of falling in love he never asked for.

...somebody to love!

#Jimmy Neutron #Boy Genius #Nick Dean #Cindy Vortex #Libby Folfax #Carl Wheezer #Sheen Estevez #romance #fanfic #Season 4 #Nickelodeon #TVverse #TVEE

3 notes · View notes

ceeceestudiesstuff · 6 years

Text

Oppression and Gender Dynamics in the works of Ken Levine: System Shock 2

As a student of Gender Studies, one learns about how the culture we live in is shaped by power dynamics, including (but not limited to) those based on gender. This extends to all areas of our culture, including the entertainment media we consume. If we wish to challenge these power dynamics, we must be willing to criticize the entertainment we enjoy. This includes video games.

When I was growing up, my favorite video game was the critically-acclaimed survival-horror-cyberpunk-role-playing-shooter System Shock 2. The thick atmosphere, constant tension and deep gameplay makes for a truly engrossing experience. But engrossing entertainment is not inconsequential; narratives and recurring elements within narratives can shape the way we understand the world and our values, expectations and interactions with others. This is why media criticism is a powerful transformative tool for social activists.

Upon a recent playthrough of System Shock 2, I decided to employ a critical approach; I came to the conclusion that the game's plot is inextricably interwoven with deeply misogynist themes. Then again, what else should I expect from Ken Levine? Levine, after all, created BioShock, which glorified the work of the infamous misogynist Ayn Rand (who not only filled her excruciatingly-terrible prose with rape scenes but also valorized the oppressive Capitalist system which marginalizes women through confining them to unpaid housework (work which is never reflected in economist's GDP figures, and is thus discarded as insignificant)). Yet even before BioShock, Levine laced his narratives with Patriarchy's privileging of the masculine and denigration of the feminine.

System Shock 2's player character is, unsurprisingly, a white male with a gun. This player character is given no characterization and not even any dialogue beyond one spoken word at the very end; the developers thus expected people to simply identify with the character on the grounds of the character's whiteness and maleness. Some Gamergaters defend these "blank slate" characters as lacking identity or as treating identity as inconsequential, but this strikes me as nothing more than an excuse for erasure; the message delivered by System Shock 2's player character is that "white males are the norm, and the developers presumed that this game would only be played by white males."

Said character's possession of a gun is another problematic aspect of the game; first, these weapons often represent a phallic symbol. Feminist Carol J. Clover, author of Men, Women and Chainsaws: Gender In The Modern Horror Film, argues that in horror films, the "Final Girl" is identified with by even male audience members due to her eventually acquiring a weapon; Clover called this phallic appropriation. System Shock 2 may be a video game rather than a film, and the player character may be male rather than female, but if Clover's association of acquiring weapons with acquiring masculinity holds true, we can see System Shock 2 (alongside effectively all other First Person Shooters) as perpetuating a narrative of masculinization through weaponry (tellingly, System Shock 2's weapons are all varieties of either firearm or are long objects like laser swords or stalactites of crystal). And what are weapons without their use? In System Shock 2, the player encounters threats and deals with them through this weaponry; negotiation or diplomacy or other forms of non-violent conflict resolution are simply not present, probably because they do not involve weaponry and thus are fundamentally feminine.

Carol Gilligan, Harvard's first professor of Gender Studies, wrote in her work In A Different Voice that women care about the social and relational. Whereas males privilege "rights" and "reason" in ethical calculus, women believe in an ethics of care, which helps explain why women (and feminists in particular) gravitate towards anti-oppression activism. Women thus support nonviolent solutions and cooperation over violence and competition. In System Shock 2, only the masculine means of conflict resolution (violence, conquest, defeating one's enemy) is available to the player character. Implicitly, this casts the feminine means of conflict resolution (diplomacy, compromise and coexistence) as inferior, which in turn perpetuates the Patriarchal values system that feminists oppose. Our society already portrays the feminine means of conflict resolution as worthless and weak, and in our war-ravaged world this message can only end up prolonging violent conflict. Not to mention that our society already portrays the feminine anything as frivolous, incompetent, trivial, ineffectual and ultimately unworthy of being taken seriously; System Shock 2 thus perpetuates our culture's devaluation of women.

That said, the above critiques can be applied to almost every single First Person Shooter, and even many Third Person Shooters; the genres seem to always star a white dude with a gun solving problems in a dudely way and thus proving that he is a real dude, and not one of those cooties-ridden girls (because girls are inferior and thus anything that is like girls is inferior). However, System Shock 2 is misogynist on a level far greater than this.

System Shock 2's misogyny is baked into its very plotline. Warning: spoilers follow.

At its very core, what System Shock 2 revels in is an attack on females in positions of power. The storyline has two main villains; a biological hive-mind called The Many and, naturally, the malevolent artificial intelligence known as SHODAN. I shall start with The Many first.

The Many are biological, yet they are like The Borg from Star Trek; they are an explicitly collectivist hive-mind that believe individuality amounts to tyranny. As Gilligan argued, the masculine voice is individualistic, and a feminine approach to ethics prioritizes the relational and social; The Many are thus implicitly feminized due to being a collective. Not only that, but The Many are born from eggs in their larval stage; eggs are commonly associated with femininity (due to female birds laying eggs, to human female reproductive cells being called "ovum" (i.e. eggs), etc.). In addition, during the later parts of the story, The Many manage to construct their own body and this body contains a womb; The Many itself is a mother.

In one particularly offensive sequence, the player character travels through The Many's womb and kills the eggs lying within; the right to choose whether or not to terminate a pregnancy belongs solely to the woman, yet in this segment of the game a male usurps a woman's right to choose. I find it hard to see this sequence as anything other than a male fantasy of controlling women's bodies; the player character may be performing "abortions" yet is doing so out of patriarchal motivations (and, as we all know, if it were men who were able to get pregnant, abortion would be a sacrament).

Some defenders of System Shock 2 would claim that The Many is not feminine, but is rather portrayed androgynously due to how The Many is voiced by both female and male voices layered over each other; this argument ignores that we live in a world where males fear the barest hint of anything "feminine." The gender roles demand that men prove they are "real men" through systematically removing any "femininity" within themselves (it is telling how, in the later stages of the game, Captain William Diego (who's military, gruffly-voiced and extremely masculine) cuts The Many's parasite out of his body) and demeaning anything associated with the feminine outside themselves; masculinity is misogyny. Thus, androgynous voicing is not masculine enough to appease the patriarchy; anything less than pure masculinity is socially classified as femininity. The Many's androgynous voicing only demonstrates that The Many is coded as feminine (and the conflation of androgyny with femininity is clearly a transphobic feature of our society's gender binary).

So The Many is thus a representative of the feminine; it is communal and relational, it has a womb, and its androgynous voicing only proves it lacks the absense of femininity necessary to be "masculinized."

And the player character is tasked to destroy The Many through stereotypically masculine means. The player character is ultimately sent through The Many's body to take control of its private functions, to control its fertility, and in the end to kill it.

Yet The Many is not the only mother in the story; SHODAN is the mother of The Many. SHODAN is voiced by a woman and referred to with feminine pronouns, so the game outright characterizes her as a woman even if it makes little sense for an AI to have a gender.

SHODAN's characterization is even more disturbingly misogynist than that of The Many. The Many merely wishes to assimilate; SHODAN plots genocide against the human race. In System Shock 2, SHODAN is portrayed as a manipulative liar (a long running negative trope about women). SHODAN believes herself to be "a Goddess, destined to inherit the earth" as the game's introductory cinematic tells us. In the last level of the game, SHODAN acquires the power to remake reality itself to her own specifications (due to the player character's finishing off of The Many allowing her to sieze control of a starship's warp drive engine); what messages does this convey about women with power?

The message is that women lust for power, that they will do anything necessary to obtain it, and that when they have it they will use it for evil purposes. They will not tolerate any insubordination, they do not value or care for any other life, they only wish for control. They have no moral principles. The message amounts to "all women are dangerous bitches." This kind of mentality is rife within our society; clearly the suspicion people have about women in power has hampered Hillary Clinton's political career, and if it weren't for this paranoia about females with power we wouldn't have needed Sheryl Sandberg's #BanBossy campaign.

Another way in which SHODAN's characterization is misogynistic is in how she is portrayed as, by metaphor, a rapist. A twist in the plot reveals that the player character was knocked out by a robot SHODAN controlled, before having intrusive cybernetic implants forcibly implanted within his skull. This rape metaphor is only emphasized by how the US version's box for the game included the line "she doesn't need a body; she's got yours" printed on it. Whilst women absolutely can commit rape, the vast majority of rape is committed by men against women, as an assertion of male control over female's bodies; System Shock 2 gender-flips this, yet in doing so not only reinforces the aforementioned paranoia over women with power, but glosses over the fact that this horrendous crime very rarely happens to men (and when it does, it is usually other men who perpetrate it). This marginalizes how gendered rape is in the real world. Finally, as System Shock 2 is an horror game, what does it tell us about our society that a gender-flip of the status quo is considered so deeply disturbing? Women live under the omnipresent threat of rape, even for something as trivial as commenting on a video game, and as the Elliot Rodger incident showed, we socialize men to see women's bodies as rightfully belonging to them; in our society this is considered the natural order. Reversing this 'natural order' causes men to fear what they truly hope to avoid; the prospect of being treated how they treat women.

Yet in a bizarre way, SHODAN serves as a mother character not only to The Many but also to the player character; SHODAN's symbolic "rape" of the character was also her way of "rebirthing" him into a new form, blessed with a suite of cybernetic implants that help him survive the challenges he faces. SHODAN guides the player character, initially through the image of Dr. Janice Polito (also a woman) but later as herself; she tells the player character what his goals are. She rewards him for doing so, and punishes him in one situation if he (i.e. the player controlling him) disobeys her. As System Shock 2 is an RPG, he "grows" under her guidance; he acquires skills which make him more powerful.

So what is the ultimate fantasy of System Shock 2, then? A critical component to understanding this fantasy is that back when the game was made (1998), gaming was more or less the exclusive playground of white male teenagers. The white male player character is obviously intended for this demographic to project themselves into.

This player character is then sent to assert his masculinity through violence, as a way of overpowering and eventually conquering characters who are archetypal female authority figures; the mother is an authority figure to her child. The Goddess is by definition worshipped. And System Shock 2 sends you against both; one which is unremittingly hostile and will stop at nothing to "rebirth" you via their "new flesh" (symbolically shoving you back into the womb), and another who's "rebirthing" of you was a symbolic rape, who lies to you and manipulates you into giving her absolute power to kill or reshape all biological life to her own preferences.

Our white teenage male audience will almost certainly be living with their mother (the father may be substantially more distant due to either divorce or work commitments). Their teachers are more likely than not to be more female than male. The audience has lived with female authority figures, and in a misogynist culture where men are promoted as women's superiors, the audience hates this. The teenage male player is not living out some gender-neutral fantasy of rebellion, but rather a gendered fantasy of masculine conquest of the feminine authority. The player character slaughters a maternal figure, even invades said figure's body and exerts control over said body's womb. Then the player character has to fight a second maternal figure and use the masculine means of violence to keep her from power that is far too dangerous for a female to have. The white male player character, using the male means of violence, who grows more powerful the more weapons he amasses, is encouraged to destroy two embodiments of femininity presented as tyrannical, manipulative, and unfit to hold the power they do.

System Shock 2 is precisely why we needed #BanBossy and still need similar initiatives; our culture teaches men that they are entitled to rule women, and so they feel resentment when women rule them. So System Shock 2 presents male players with two female authority figures to attack, to disempower in the most intimate of ways, and ultimately to exert power over in order to re-establish the patriarchal norm. System Shock 2 is a nerd's dream of payback against his mother for not buying him that X-Men figurine he craves so badly. System Shock 2 reflects the same mindset that thinks Hillary Clinton cannot be trusted with power, but that Sanders (or, heaven forbid, Trump) would be a positive step. System Shock 2's villains represent a laundry list of every single rationalization that the patriarchy deploys to keep women out of powerful positions, and presents players with an heroic fantasy of asserting masculinity's rightful place at the top.

For those who think I am overstating the case, I would suggest they look at the game's closing cinematic; it becomes clear from this that the game is not interested in a situation where neither sex has power over each other. At the climax of the game, SHODAN offers the player character a chance to rule together. The player character will thus be free from a feminine overlord; were the fantasy of System Shock 2 merely about being free from feminine authority, the player would be satisfied by the player character taking the offer. Instead, the player character states the only word he says in the entire game; a frankly immature "nah" (thus displaying the kind of childish attitude one would expect from the game's target audience). He then, in a climactic act of assertion of his male power, raises his weapon and fires it, causing SHODAN to be destroyed and thus re-establishing masculinity as supreme. Equality was not enough.

And whilst The Many never offered such an equality, the fact that the process of destroying them required invading and controlling their very body and bodily functions only underscores the male-supremacist nature of System Shock 2's story.

In summary and conclusion, System Shock 2's gameplay is (as usual for shooters) implicitly misogynist through constructing a world where only masculine traits are useful and valuable. This, however, is not nearly as sexist as the game's plot, which is premised on a view that the "natural order" of things is for females to be subordinated to males, that women can never be trusted with power, and that for women to exercise power over men is an object of unfathomable horror. This gives context to the gameplay, where the player character employs traditionally masculine means to not merely escape feminine authority but to conquer it and thus exert male authority over the feminine (even the feminine body), thus re-establishing the patriarchal status quo. System Shock 2 is a symbolically-matricidal revenge fantasy built out of the resentment of young white men who feel that they've been denied their "rightful place" as women's rulers. This game is the crystalization of the MRA worldview.

Gamergate may have only been around since August of 2014, but misogyny in gaming goes back much further. Women cannot afford to spare "classics" from criticism. Progress towards gender justice, and therefore the safety of women's lives, is more important than the feelings of fanbases.

#system shock #feminism #social justice #video games

7 notes · View notes