#Guys seriously what do I do with myself now?

[artificial-transmutations]

Wrong bag, bro

Music blared from my headphones while I was running on the treadmill when I first saw the guy. It was obviously his first time in the gym, and after having gotten a short introduction, he looked around uncomfortably before approaching the weights. I sighed and stopped the treadmill. It was a good gym, at least judging from the equipment and the cost. The staff, however, was... improvable. It was clear that the new guy had no idea how to start and he would probably hurt himself like that.

"Sup? You're new here?" I said as I approached. He almost jumped when he heard my voice. I took a good look at him when he turned around. He wasn't very fit, at least compared to me. I mean, I'm no bodybuilder, too, but I do go to the gym a few times a week and try to stay in shape. The other guy was visibly unfit, with a small belly and no definition at all, but hey, we all have to start somewhere.

"Uhm. Yes. Actually, I wanted to lose a bit of weight. I'm Jonas. Do you work here?"

I chuckled. "Na, man. I'm Travis, and I just work *out* here. Why are you trying to get fit?"

Jonas seemed to be a bit embarrassed when he answered. "I... hope that will make dating easier. It's hard to find a boyfriend like... this."

He gestured down his body.

"Hey, you should do this for yourself, not for someone else. But yeah, I get what you mean. Chicks dig muscles, too."

The last part was probably unnecessary and somewhat spoiling the message, but I couldn't help it. It was a reflex to make clear I was straight. Really stupid, I know, but hey, that's just the straight genes talking.

Thankfully, Jonas took the hint and didn't hit on me as I showed him the ropes. He was mightily insecure, but a nice dude. After a while, he called it a day and we went to the locker room together. Having started early, I felt it was time to head home, too.

I took out my gym bag from my locker, as did Jonas, and got my soap out.

"Are you not going to shower?" I asked as Jonas just changed to his street shoes.

"Oh, eh, no, I'll shower at home." he said, and I understood. That guy was so self-conscious it would probably be hell for him to shower in a communal shower, so I just shrugged and said:

"Alright. See you around."

After the shower, I went to my gym bag to change into my street clothes but when I opened it, the contents seemed unfamiliar. Of course. Jonas had the same black gym bag as I did and must have grabbed the wrong one. That could happen. I just hoped I'd meet him again so we could swap back the bags. For now, it wasn't that much of a problem. I didn't have any valuables in there, and it seemed that Jonas had brought a towel as well, so I could just use his to dry myself.

What had been in there, however, were my street clothes. I mean, it wasn't a big deal, I could just wear my gym clothes until I got home, but somehow, I got curious and rummaged through the contents of the bag. There was something that immediately jumped into view and that was...

A pair of pink boxer briefs.

I mean seriously? How much gayer could it get?

I was just about to stuff it back into the back, when I hesitated. My gym compression shorts were soaked with sweat, and apparently, the boxer briefs seemed to be clean, I rationalized, but somehow, I *wanted* to put them on, for some weird reason. Well. I shrugged and just acted on the impulse, I mean, it was just a pair of underwear, right?

As it turned out, poor Jonas must have been not that well-endowed. The pair of boxer briefs was awfully tight and hugged my ass and my junk so firmly it was almost a second skin. I looked in the mirror and was a little surprised. My cock wasn't exactly small, but the underwear still didn't leave much to imagination either. But they were clean, and the fabric was quite pleasant to the touch, so I decided I would wear them until I got home.

Man, Jonas was probably in for a surprise when he discovered my XXL jockstrap from my bag. And unlike his - sorry - faggy underwear, I had worn that thing for a day now, so it wasn't exactly clean. I mean, there wasn't any reason for him to put it on, but what if he was curious? Or what if he was a little pervert who liked to experience the smell of a real man?

I shook my head. Where had that thought come from? I quickly got dressed in the rest of *my* clothes and drove home. However, during the drive I couldn't quite shake the thought of how Jonas might just be sniffing my jock, jerking his pathetic little cock furiously while doing so. Man, I really had no idea what was wrong with me today. When I arrived at home, my cock was hard and leaking pre into Jonas tight little pink underwear. Looks like I needed to blow off some steam.

I put on some lesbian porn and fished out my cock and balls from its tight confines. I have to admit that jerking off while wearing Jonas' briefs was oddly exciting.

At first, my eyes were glued to the two chicks on the screen, but as I got close to shooting my load, I leaned back and closed my eyes. Images of Jonas, wearing my much too large jockstrap came immediately and unbidden, but it was too late. With a groan, I came all over my toned and defined upper body.

I needed a moment to recover after that before I could start cleaning up. I stuffed my junk back into the pink underwear without really thinking about it, but realized it wasn't quite as tight as before. Perhaps the fabric was adjusting to my bigger mass. I was just about done with wiping the cum off my chest when my phone dinged with a message from an unknown number:

Unknown number:

"Hey there, it's Jonas, from the gym today. It seems like I grabbed the wrong bag when I left, and I want to return it to you. Can you give me your address?"

I thought about it for a moment while I saved his name to my phone. He probably found my number on the lost and found card, and I was just to agree, when I stopped. There was no rational reason not to swap back the bags as soon as possible and I had no plans for today. But...

Travis:

"Sorry, man, I can't today. How about tomorrow? We can meet at the gym."

I seriously had no idea why I lied, but not-so-little Travis twitched in the underwear as I wrote the message.

Jonas:

"Sounds good. Sorry I took your bag, I only noticed when I got home."

Travis:

"Don't worry, there's nothing important in there. Just my sweaty jockstrap, haha."

What was I doing? Why would I chat with a near stranger about my underwear? I was interrupted by the answer from Jonas.

Jonas:

"Yeah, I have found that thing already."

I hesitated. My cock was straining against pink fabric again, even though I just jerked off a few minutes ago. I really shouldn't be that excited, and I really shouldn't lead the poor gay guy on, but I couldn't help it. My fingers typed all on their own.

Travis:

"I see. And what did you do with it?"

It took a while before the next answer came in, and I feared that I had alienated the guy.

Jonas:

"Well, I'm wearing it right now."

Ha! I knew it! That guy was a pervert after all. I looked down at the tight pink boxer briefs struggling to contain my erection, while a small patch of precum had formed at the tip of the tent. Takes one to know one, right?

Travis:

"That old thing? I'm sure it smells sweaty as hell right now. Can you show me?"

Almost instantly, Jonas sent a picture of himself, wearing only the jock. It was way too big and baggy on him, and I could see his whole body in all of its unfit glory.

But somehow, it didn't look so bad. Absentmindedly, I squeezed my cock while looking at the picture. Then, with a mental "What the hell", I snapped a selfie for Jonas as well, of me wearing his pink boxer briefs. I didn't care to hide my boner, although it was less obvious than I thought. Might as well give him something to drool over, right?

After I had sent the picture, I looked at myself in the mirror some more. There was disappointingly little pump on my frame considering that I just came back from the gym. In fact, I looked even smaller than before I went to the gym. That couldn't be true, right?

But the bathroom scale confirmed. This was crazy! You didn't just lose five kilograms of body mass just like that. Especially, since my body mass was mostly muscles!

I took another look at the mirror, but it was true: my arms, my legs, even my chest. Everything looked less defined than before. And my chest was pretty smooth, too. I usually shave it, but since I have a high testosterone level or something, there's always a stubble remaining. Not so today. As I felt my chest with my hand, there was only smooth skin. What the hell was going on?

I looked back at my phone, and Jonas had answered again.

Jonas:

"Looks good on you, you should wear it more often! ;)"

Did he really think so? My heartbeat quickened on the praise from Jonas, and I could feel my cock reacting again. It must have gotten soft over the whole panicking, but reading this single line from Jonas was enough for it to strain against the tight underwear again.

Except... It wasn't *that* tight anymore. Sure, it was still a pair of boxer briefs and was supposed to cling to the skin, and it did, but before, my muscular ass, pelvis and of course, my large cock had filled it to the breaking point. Not so anymore. In fact, it fit pretty snugly, and although my cock was hard as a rock, the bulge it produced was much smaller than before.

My phone dinged with another message.

Jonas:

"Are you still there, Tray? You're still in for the gym later?"

Later? I thought we had said tomorrow! And why did he call me Tray? I quickly composed an answer.

Travis:

"Do we have to? I thought we'd said tomorrow."

The answer came immediately.

Jonas:

"Stop whining, Tray! I know you wane be big like I, so you must work hart!"

I cringed from the amount of spelling mistakes, but before I could answer, Jonas sent another Pic.

Was that still the same guy as before?! Sure enough, he was wearing my jockstrap, and the face was similar, but boy was he *ripped*. His arms and legs looked like he basically lived in the gym, and his hairy chest was sitting heavily on his perfectly sculpted eight pack abs. He even had a tattoo!

I looked back to the mirror in distress. I was positively scrawny, and not just in comparison. *My* arms and legs looked like twigs from a tree that were about to break from a strong wind. And were Jonas had all that chest hair and stubble on his chin, I was totally hairless, except for my perfectly styled bleached blonde hair.

I started to hyperventilate and had to lean on the sink to not fall.

What the hell was happening here?!

The phone dinged again, and I picked it up.

Jonas:

"Excpext yu wantto let ur tongue work out insted Todays bitch canceled and I Ned so to worship my "

It was getting really difficult to read, but I got the gist of it. But that wasn't right, right? Jonas was gay, just as me, and... Hold on, I... No, Jonas. Jonas wasn't gay, he was bi. Of course, with that fuck stick inside his smelly jockstrap, he'd fuck everything that moves.

All by itself, my hand had entered my pink boxer briefs and was jerking like crazy. Luckily, there was enough room in the underwear, as it was a bit loose usually. Even with my delicate hands, I couldn't close my hand around my shaft, it was just too small for that. So, I jerked with two fingers until I could finally stop myself. My cock wasn't as important for the upcoming meeting as my beautiful ass and my eager tongue that would submissively lap up every drop of sweat from Jonas manly body, so he would reward me with that magnificent cock of his. But still, no need to spoil the fun.

Tray:

"I'm coming over right now, Sir!"

I hope you enjoyed this little switchup! A few additional images can be found at my tip jar :)

[0310s]

best friend, experienced fwb! leehan x virgin, inexperienced! reader

(continuation of preview one)

warnings: nsfw talk, no explicit scenes

wc: 1.5k

a/n: preview two is here! the smut will be reserved for the actual fic <3 let me know your thoughts so far!!

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

You’re both seated across your plush floor carpet, your backs leaning against the side of your bed. “So…” you gulp nervously, looking anywhere except for Leehan, whose eyes you can feel are trained on you. You concentrate your attention straight ahead on your shelf—specifically, the fluffy alien plushie your best friend gifted you on your birthday. You've named the lil guy Leehan in your head, although you've sworn yourself to secrecy (and utter embarrassment if the real Leehan were to find out). Leehan (the plushie) has been there during your worst breakdowns and has served as a source of comfort whenever you're stressed. “Where do we start?” You’re rapidly losing the feigned confidence you mustered minutes before Leehan came in.

“Well, you could start by looking at me,” Leehan lets out a small laugh. “And maybe moving closer to me… don’t you think you’re a little too far away?” You then notice the awkward distance between the both of you, practically enough to squeeze in two more people, so you scoot over, leaving a bit of space between you. Definitely farther than usual—you’re both usually comfortably pressed up against each other on most days. Although that ease of physical contact was platonic in nature; you’re not so sure about now. You then find the courage to turn and face him.

Leehan’s eyes curve into relieved crescents. He’s got his chin propped up on his hand as he tilts his head to look at you. “Hi.” He smells comforting, his perfume woody and pleasant. A cuddle session with him would honestly fix you… wait, stop that, brain! These thoughts of yours need to stop; they’re veering towards very dangerous territory.

“Hi.” Your throat is dry and your voice comes out scratchy. You clear your throat in embarrassment, trying again. “Hi, Leehan.” 

Leehan lets out a huff at your awkwardness, still faintly smiling. “How are you? You still up for this?”

Collecting your thoughts, you remain silent for a while. “Honestly? Nervous.” At Leehan’s encouraging nod, you open up. “Okay, well. I’m scared. I’ve never done this before. And I’m also just really self-conscious. I’m already overthinking now, who knows how much more of that I’ll be doing when we… you know…” Your face burns. “I also don’t find myself particularly attractive, you know? I’m just plain old me. Sure, maybe at the very most, I’m cute. But not enough for people to stop and think, wow, they’re really pretty, I have a crush on them. And I’ve never been on the receiving end of sexual or romantic attention. So I… sorry, Leehan, I don’t know where I’m going with this,” you trail off, but Leehan places a warm hand atop your own, which you’re gripping your thigh with.

“Listen,” Leehan begins, “I think everyone experiences a certain amount of self-consciousness when they have sex. After all, they’re allowing themselves to be vulnerable in front of someone else, which is a challenge even outside a sexual context. For me at least, it’s worth experiencing that self-consciousness first to be able to experience that intimacy and connection with your partner.” You nod pensively at what he’s saying. “And I think you’re really understating yourself. If you’ve only known how many guys and girls have asked me if you were single…”

You pause at that information. “Wait, seriously? You’ve never told me about this! I don’t know, maybe you were mistaken…”

“Come on, when have I ever lied to you about anything?” Leehan counters. “I didn’t say anything because I never assumed you were interested in anything romantic back then. You never seemed interested in anyone else, and you never told me anything. So I assume you didn’t really have any crushes…?”

“Well, yeah, I guess,” you shrug. “I found people pretty or handsome, but just from an aesthetic standpoint? It never really got to the point that I wanted to act on it… so not a crush.” Still, a flash of insecurity strikes you. “Okay, I know this is about me, but… are you sure you want to do this? It doesn’t really matter if other people find me attractive…”  If you don’t, you were about to say. You’re unable to finish your sentence because of how… misleading it sounds in your head. “I mean,” you correct yourself, “It would be weird and awkward if I was the only one getting anything out of this. I don’t think you’d be, um, turned on in any way.” You find your gaze fixating on the Leehan (the plushie) once again, unable to make eye contact with your (very real) best friend.

“Don’t worry, I will be. Turned on, that is,” you hear from beside you, and you can’t help but turn. Leehan’s ears are red, and he’s glancing at you almost sheepishly. “I hope you know that… you’re really pretty. Anyone with eyes can see that.” Oh. Um. Okay. Oh… Wow. Hearing that from Leehan himself, who is the embodiment of beauty, makes you positively flustered, but you don’t want to think about why exactly that’s so. 

“I…” You don’t know what to say without sounding stupid. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Leehan echoes. “I mean, is that okay with you? That I think that way?” What way, you want to scream, but you’re terrified of overcomplicating things right now. 

“Um. Yes, I guess… I mean, coming from someone as handsome as you, it’s nice to hear,” you admit. You hoped that was a normal enough response (as normal as it could get in your extremely abnormal situation, anyway). And then you risk another glimpse at Leehan—he’s blushing and trying to hide a shy smile, for the love of God. His dimples are so lovely. Do not overthink this, please, for your own sanity!!!

“So…” you attempt to change the subject, but end up making yourself feel even worse. “You’re right, about the self-consciousness thing. Maybe I need to try it out to know how exactly I feel about… intimate stuff… and see if it’s something I really want. But. I don’t know. Could you tell me if you’re not attracted to me or something when you see my body? Before we actually get into anything?” You sound utterly pathetic, and you duck your head down.

“(Y/n)... look at me,” Leehan urges. A gentle hand on your shoulder turns you towards him, and you’re scared to see what expression he’s making. “You’re already beautiful the way you are, with all your imperfections—not despite. I promise you, there’s nothing about you that would make me think you’re unattractive.” His eyes are kind and his touch a comforting weight. You desperately want to believe him.  

“Okay,” you utter. 

“Okay?” Leehan repeats, and you nod slowly. “We can stop at any time you’re uncomfortable. But we don’t even have to at all, if that’s what you want. Sex isn’t something everyone has to do, and there’s really more to relationships than sex. Do you need more time to think over this? We can just hang out now like we always do,” he says, but you have your answer already.

“Leehan, I want to do this. I’m going to be scared and nervous, but I know I’ll be safe with you. And I want to do this with you. There’s no one else I could trust myself more with.” At that, you lean over and wrap your arms around him. You can tell Leehan is momentarily startled, but he settles into the hug, encircling you with his own arms. His palms against your back are gentle and warm. You take a deep breath, melting into the comfort of his embrace.

After a minute or so, you withdraw from his arms. “So Leehan… what do we do now?”

“What do you want to do? It’s your call,” Leehan whispers. 

“I’m honestly not sure? Could you, I don’t know, suggest something and I’ll let you know if it’s something I want?”

“How about… kissing?” Leehan suggests. “It’s simple but a nice way to start.“

“Oh. Well… Uh… I don’t know how to say this, but…” Your hands grow sweaty. “Uh…”

After a few moments of silence, Leehan’s eyes widen in realization. “You’ve never kissed anyone before?” You can feel your face heating up as you nod. “So technically, I’d be your first?” You nod again, albeit slower this time. Then you feel a sudden, unidentifiable, shift in the air as Leehan softly cradles your cheek with his palm. His eyes are dark with desire, and your breath is stolen from you at the awareness that you have the entirety of his attention focused on you. “Tell me you’re okay with me being your first.” He patiently waits for your answer, eyes locked on you. 

You feel the weight of your need to be as close as possible to him. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest. You want to say yes. Yes to Leehan and everything he wants to give you. “I… Yes. Please, Leehan.”

And then he's kissing you.

[tsukimefuku]

the letter ꕥ higuruma hiromi

summary: reader writes a letter for an absentee. one that she will never send.

tags: f!reader, implied past relationship, higuruma x reader, angst, break up, longing and general heartbreak.

wc: 1k

notes etc.: this is actually my original style of writing in my native language before i began writing in 2nd(?) + 3rd person pov on ao3 and tumblr this year. it’s different from what I’ve written so far, but I hope you guys enjoy it. the style translation was hard, holy shirt. song → shake it out (florence + the machine).

ꕥ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

i like to keep my issues drawn ꕥ it’s always darkest before the dawn

I was debating if I should start this with “hey, Hiromi”, “hi, Higuruma”, “dear” something, and I still haven’t arrived at an answer. The first sounds too casual for what we have become — and what are we now if not strangers? The second, however, is just too impersonal, and I don’t need such a stinging reminder of how much I’m not entitled to your first name anymore. At last, “dear” to start a letter is just tacky.

Alas, I digress.

I don’t quite know what possessed me to pick up a pen and a piece of paper (analogical, just like you’ve noted me to be) to blurt out the swirling hurts in my mind, but I guess I still had a lot to say, even if you weren’t here long enough to hear it.

Here goes nothing.

You might be wondering how I’m doing (at least I hope so), so I thought I’d let you know.

Tonight, more specifically, I’ve been for an insurmountable stretch of time — were it hours? Minutes? Days? Out of my priorities, tracking time has not been one of them — staring at the empty vacuum making its presence known by my side. It seems to mock my stare, that longs, against all odds, for a miracle — for you to simply materialize right there, out of thin air.

Seriously, you should see the mess you’ve made when you left.

You left an emptiness of shoes, black suits, wet towels on the bed, cup marks on the furniture, scratches of morning beard, warm legs under the covers — an emptiness of body that has been giving me nightmares. You came in, flipped everything upside down, blew up my walls and made so that every edge, vertex, color and smell of this heart and bones surrounding our leftover life would incessantly scream for you.

It’s like my misery extended beyond myself and resoundingly expanded against the walls of this house.

But… even though I wish you were here with every tiny part of myself, I couldn’t ask for you to stay. I know it wouldn’t be fair. You’d never ask me to betray myself, and the least I could do was to love you in the same earnest way. 

You wouldn’t be the man I loved if you didn’t go. I wouldn’t be the person you loved if I asked you not to (I apologize for the past tense, it’s one of those truthless comforts I’ve decided to give myself for the time being).

You still linger here, though. I still keep your gaze close to my chest, your face pressed against my skin, your warm voice caressing the edge of my ear and your hair stroking through my fingers, even if it’s just my soul pretending for a minute.

A long minute.

You know, it has been hell without you here. The couch cushions wrap around me like your arms, the bed always bounces by the time you used to get up, and the kitchen smells like your favorite take-out meals (because God knows we’d set fire to this building if we so much as dared turning that stove top on). The window reflects two back at me when only one is looking at it, and my hiking boots are dearly missing those black oxford shoes. My coat hanging on the edge of the closet is also dearly missing your crumpled black ties sprinkled around the room (of course you took weeks to properly wash and organize them — when you ever did).

Oh, and the bed.

The bed is just not the same without that stupid, ridiculous blotch of water your towel would always leave on it.

A huge chunk of our house is missing.

I know I can’t let my selfishness kidnap you from what you need to do — and I do know you need it. But damn, sometimes it’s hard to fight the urge of hopping on the first train your way, grabbing you by your wrist and asking you to become once again part of my wallpaper, my duvet, my pillows. Just promise me you’ll make all of this pain worthwhile, even if you ran away with ten thirds of me.

Ever since you left, though, I learned a few tricks to mask your ever so present absence. I can pull the pillows towards the middle of the bed, eat in the living room and read in the kitchen, being sure to slowly put all my pieces back in place. 

It’s harder to notice an empty chair across the table when you willingly choose to sit on the ground.

However, I didn’t want to do that. Not today. Call it insanity, clarity, or just meet me in my madness like you always so kindly did.

Today, I wanted to let you invade me, come into my house with my full permission and go on turning everything upside down once more. That way, I can almost feel you there. To me, at least for now, that’s good enough (or as good as I know it’s gonna get).

Your muted way of sharing our space could be so, so silent. That quietude brought me the deepest of peaces.

Unfortunately, I never anticipated the silence from your absence would be so loud, and not peaceful at all. It has been hammering at my breathless heart for days. 

I miss you.

I love you, too.

***

With a sigh, you put the pen down and stared at the paper sheet for a minute, your own calligraphy so foreign with a pain you hadn’t let out properly ever since Hiromi… actually, Higuruma stepped out that morning.

Considering your options, you resigned, and pulled the letter in a crinkled messy ball, tossing it in the garbage can.

No need to talk to a voluntary absentee. No need to bother him, either.

You got yourself back up and picked up two pairs of keys, the blue buttoned shirt and made your way out of the apartment, not failing to hear the rumbling echo the door made when it slammed closed.

An echo that only happens in truly empty places.

[theolivebranchreview]

My Love Letter to 2000s Network Television

by @arianna_mitchell

As I sit in my cramped apartment, surrounded by the unbridled chaos of unpaid bills, constantly checking my phone to see if “Julia,” the latest messy situation I’ve gotten myself into, has answered any of my embarrassingly numerous consecutive texts, I find myself yearning for an escape. But rather than confront these absolutely terrifying facts of life head-on, I’ve discovered a foolproof method of avoidance: rewatching my favorite early 2000s TV shows.

In times of stress and uncertainty (how badly would you beat me up if I still called these times “unprecedented”?), there’s something incredibly therapeutic about immersing yourself in the familiar comfort of old TV shows. It’s like slipping into your favorite worn-out sweatshirt that you stole from your ex whose last name you’re not actually sure you remember and feeling instantly at ease. These shows, with their dated fashion trends, now-vintage pop culture references, and occasional sprinkles of racism and misogyny that makes your skill crawl, provide a much-needed escape from the pressures of modern life.

But it’s not just about escapism. Rewatching these early 2000s gems is a form of self-care, a way to reconnect with a simpler time and a more carefree version of ourselves. And dude, if you do it right, it’s so much cheaper than therapy. I mean still go to therapy. But if you play your cards right, you can watch damn near 10,000 hours of television for nearly nothing. I’m still using my roommate’s Disney+ account and I haven’t lived with them for almost two years. But it’s okay because they’re on my Hulu (well actually my parents’ Hulu but you get the idea). As we follow the trials and tribulations of our favorite characters, we find solace in their struggles and triumphs. We’re reminded that, no matter how overwhelming life may seem, we’ve overcome challenges before and will continue to do so.

In a world that often feels chaotic and unpredictable, these shows offer a sense of stability and familiarity. We know every plot twist, every punchline, and every heartfelt moment. I am so tried of surprises, you have no idea. Well of course you do. You’re a human being living in this god awful year 202_. There’s a certain comfort in that predictability, in knowing that, no matter what happens in our own lives, these characters will always be there, frozen in time, ready to welcome us back with open arms. Sure, sometimes they might be poorly written, poorly filmed, and poorly acted, but I’ll be damned if they aren’t the one constant in my life. And let’s be real, sometimes it’s just nice to watch gorgeous people whose lives are even more of a shit show than your own. Sure, I may be drowning in student loan debt that I haven’t paid in seven months (seriously…is the government going to say anything about that or am I like…good?) and questioning every life choice I’ve ever made, but at least I’m not Marissa Cooper, who seems to attract drama like shit attracts paperclips, or whatever the expression is.

So, as I navigate the stresses of being an actual independent human being out in the world– the impending sense of doom that comes with each new political headline that I try to ignore, the constant pressure from every single direction to have it all figured out, and the nagging feeling that everyone else is more successful than me (seriously, do you guys have like 40 hours in the day, what the hell is going on?) – I find solace in the healing power of nostalgia television. And with that, I press play on another episode of Gilmore Girls, ready to lose myself in the fast-talking, coffee-fueled world of Stars Hollow. Because sometimes, the best therapy is the kind that comes with a side of pop culture references and a heaping dose of early 2000s fashion. And did I mention it’s free? (If you steal it)

So here are some recommendations if you’re unsure of what to (re)watch.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Slaying My Real-Life Demons

When the weight of the navigating the post(?)-pandemic dating scene gets to be too much (and let’s be real, it was pretty terrible long before the world broke), I turn to the ultimate demon-slaying hero, Buffy Summers. As I watch her navigate the perils of high school cliques, teenage romance, and the occasional apocalypse, my own problems seem to fade into the background. Sure, I may be casually drowning in capitalist sludge but at least I’m not tasked with saving the world from literal demons and vampires. And can you believe she did it while wearing low-rise jeans? I swear to God if those actually make a comeback, you will be hearing from the lawyer that I definitely have.

There’s something oddly comforting about watching Buffy and her friends face the end of the world on a weekly basis. It puts things into perspective, you know? Like, sure, I may have paid my rent late four months in a row. It’s not because I didn’t have the money, I literally just forgot. Sorry, Jeff, I just don’t think about you that way. But hey, at least I’m not having to sacrifice my love life for the greater good of humanity. And yeah, I went on three tinder dates this month just because I didn’t feel like cooking and wanted a free meal (but I didn’t sleep with them so it’s not sex work and even if it was, there’s not a damn thing wrong with that, you fascist), but at least I’m not having to balance homework with slaying vampires and preventing the apocalypse.

Buffy’s world may be filled with darkness and danger, but there’s a certain comfort in knowing that no matter how bleak things seem, she and her friends will always find a way to save the day. And if Buffy can do it while rocking some seriously questionable ’90s fashion choices (my lawyer is on standby, kids), then surely I can find a way to navigate the challenges of adulthood without completely losing my mind (though I make no promises when it comes to the questionable fashion choices).

Gilmore Girls: A Caffeinated Escape

Picture this: it’s 2 AM, and I’m elbow-deep in a pint of over-priced, freezer burnt Ben & Jerry’s that I bought from the bodega, scrutinizing how I managed to screw up yet another potential relationship. Enter Lorelai and Rory Gilmore, the fast-talking, coffee-chugging duo who make even the most stressful situations seem manageable with their quick wit and obscure references. They are not perfect, they are not always helpful, they are definitely not real, but they are always there to talk me through a difficult situation. As I watch them navigate the ups and downs of life in Stars Hollow, I can’t help but feel a sense of comfort wash over me. Sure, my problems may not involve a love triangle with a diner owner and a coffee shop entrepreneur, but the Gilmores remind me that no matter how much life (or love) throws at you, there’s always room for a good laugh and a cup (or seven) of coffee.

Screw it. Speaking of love, let’s talk about my latest romantic endeavor, shall we? Enter “Julia,” the girl who I’ve been texting on and off for the past three weeks, analyzing every emoji and exclamation point like it’s the goddamn Da Vinci Code. I know, I know, I’m bordering on being about as clingy as Kirk when he’s trying to win over Lulu, but what can I say? I’m a sucker for a girl with big brown eyes who laughs at my jokes and shares my love of obscure ’90s bands (even if she thinks Hootie and the Blowfish is obscure, bless her heart).

But here’s the thing: watching Lorelai and Rory navigate their own romantic ups and downs reminds me that I’m not alone in my struggles. Lorelai may have a thing for emotionally unavailable men (looking at you, Christopher), and Rory may have a habit of falling for guys who are all wrong for her (ahem, Logan), but they never let their relationship drama define them (looking at you, girl avoiding eye contact in the mirror). They pick themselves up, dust themselves off, and move on to the next adventure, whether it’s opening a new inn or running for student body president.

So, when I find myself obsessing over whether or not to double-triple-quadruple-text Julia (because apparently, I’ve regressed to my teenage self), I channel my inner Lorelai and remind myself that there’s more to life than waiting for a text back. I’ve got dreams to chase, coffee to drink, and a whole world of pop culture references to explore. And who knows, maybe one day I’ll find my own Luke Danes, a partner who appreciates my quirks and keeps me grounded (and caffeinated). But until then, I’ve got the Gilmore girls to keep me company, and honestly, I couldn’t ask for better role models.

Where’s My Central Perk?

When the daily grind of life starts to wear me down, and I find myself longing for the simpler times of coffee shop hangouts and rent-controlled apartments, I turn to my old friends from Central Perk. Rachel, Ross, Monica, Chandler, Joey, and Phoebe have been there for me through thick and thin, offering a much-needed escape from the harsh realities of the modern world.

But as I sit here, alone in my apartment with only my cats as the only real constant in my life, I can’t help but feel a sense of bitterness toward the corporate greed and capitalistic systems that have fostered a generation of lonely, disconnected individuals. The world of Friends, with its tight-knit community and affordable living situations, feels more and more like a distant fantasy with each passing year.

In a society that prioritizes profit over people, the concept of “third spaces” – those beloved hangouts like Central Perk – is becoming increasingly rare. We paved paradise and put up a Santander. Coffee shops and cafes are being replaced by banks, soulless chains, or empty storefronts always promising development, while local bars and restaurants are being priced out by skyrocketing rents. The places where we once gathered to forge connections and build communities are disappearing, leaving us with fewer opportunities to connect with others.

And let’s not forget the ever-increasing cost of living, which has created a generation of transient twenty-somethings, constantly on the move in search of affordable housing and stable job opportunities. How are we supposed to build lasting friendships when we’re always saying goodbye? Frankly, I’ve just stopped trying.

It’s no wonder that so many of us turn to TV shows like Friends for comfort and escapism. In a world where genuine human connection feels increasingly out of reach, we seek solace in the familiar faces and laugh tracks of our favorite sitcoms. We long for the kind of deep, meaningful friendships that the show depicts, even as we recognize how unrealistic they may be.

But here’s the thing: we can’t let the pursuit of profit continue to erode the very things that make us human. We need to fight back against the systems that prioritize money over people, and work to create a world where genuine connection and community are valued above all else.

Maybe that means supporting local businesses and fighting for affordable housing. Maybe it means creating our own “third spaces,” even if they look different from the ones we see on TV. Or maybe it just means reaching out to the people in our lives, and reminding them that they matter to us, no matter how far apart we may be.

Because at the end of the day, that’s what Friends is really about: the power of human connection, and the way it can help us weather even the toughest of times. And in a world that seems hellbent on keeping us apart, that message feels more important than ever.

So here I am, a single woman sitting alone in her apartment, watching TV with her cats. But I know that I’m not really alone, because I have the love and support of the people who matter most to me. I have my friends from college, I have my friends online, I have this little column that I contribute to whenever I feel like so I can at least feel like an old man yelling at a cloud. And that’s something that no amount of corporate greed or capitalistic bullshit can ever take away.

Conclusion

As I sit here, surrounded by the comforting glow of my laptop screen, I can’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for the early 2000s TV shows that have been my constant companions through the ups and downs of adulthood. In a world that often feels cold, unforgiving, and increasingly isolated, these nostalgic gems have provided me with a much-needed escape and a reminder of the power of human connection.

From the demon-slaying heroics of Buffy to the quick-witted banter of the Gilmore Girls, these shows have taught me valuable lessons about perseverance, friendship, and the importance of chasing your dreams. They’ve been there for me through breakups, job losses, and countless other challenges, offering a comforting sense of familiarity and a reminder that I’m not alone in my struggles.

But more than that, these shows have served as a catalyst for self-reflection and growth. They’ve inspired me to be braver, kinder, and more authentic in my own life, even when the world around me seems to be crumbling. They’ve reminded me that it’s okay to make mistakes, to be vulnerable, and to lean on the people who matter most.

So, to all the early 2000s TV shows that have been my rock through the turbulent waters of adulthood, I say thank you. Thank you for the laughter, the tears, and the countless hours of comfort and companionship. Thank you for reminding me that, no matter how bleak things may seem, there’s always hope to be found in the power of storytelling and human connection.

And to all my fellow twenty-somethings out there, navigating the challenges of adulthood in an increasingly uncertain world, I say this: keep holding on to the things that bring you joy, the things that remind you of who you are and what you stand for. Whether it’s a beloved TV show, a cherished friendship, or a secret dream that keeps you going, hold onto it with all your might. Because in the end, it’s those things – the things that make us feel seen, heard, and understood – that will carry us through even the darkest of times.

So go ahead, press play on that next episode of Buffy or Gilmore Girls. Let yourself get lost in the familiar comfort of Stars Hollow or Sunnydale. And remember, no matter how lost or alone you may feel, you’ve got a whole gang of early 2000s TV friends waiting to welcome you back with open arms (and maybe even a few outdated pop culture references). Trust me, it’s the best therapy money can’t buy.

[uzurakis]

as a fellow nagumo lover, how about i request nagumo saving reader (who’s also an assassin) while she’s badly injured and teasing her as she recovers 🙃

your eyes flutter awake, and you're greeted by the sight of yoichi nagumo lounging in a chair by your bed, his feet propped up on the edge. those dark eyes light up the moment he sees you stir.

"well, look who's decided to join the land of the living~!" he exclaims, a wide grin spreading across his face. awhile ago, you slowly regain consciousness, the beeping of the hospital machines faintly registering in your ears. the body of yours feels heavy and sore, memories of the mission flooding back; remembering the ambush, the fight, and then the pain. but most of all, you remember nagumo’s face, his expression uncharacteristically serious as he saved you. and you don’t see that often, never, actually.

you try to speak, but your throat is dry, and all that comes out is a croak. nagumo jumps up, leaning over you with an exaggeratedly concerned expression.

"oh no! have you forgotten how to talk? i guess i'll just have to handle all the conversation from now on," he says, feigning a dramatic sigh.

you roll your eyes, managing to croak out, "water."

he grabs a cup of water from the table, but instead of handing it to you, he holds it just out of your reach. "first, you have to answer a riddle. what has four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three legs in the evening?"

"nagumo, seriously?" you rasp, your annoyance mingled with a slight, very tiny hint of amusement. man, i just woke up, you say in your head.

he only chuckles and finally gives you the water. "fine, i'll let you off this time. but only because you look like you’ve been through a meat grinder."

the cool liquid soothing your parched throat as you take a grateful sip. "thanks.. for the rescue," you manage to say.

nagumo waves his hand dismissively. "oh, don't mention it. just another day in the life of your favorite assassin."

don't mention it, he says with a casual wave of his hand, his trademark grin firmly in place. but beneath that easygoing facade, he's a whirlwind of emotions. the memory of finding you bleeding and unresponsive still haunts him, a gnawing fear that he might lose you forever. he can still feel the cold dread that settles in his stomach when you don't respond to his frantic calls, the way his heart pounds in his chest as he carries you to safety. every step is a desperate prayer that you'll hold on, that you'll survive. seeing you lying so still, so vulnerable, shakes him to his core. regardless of his lighthearted demeanour, he can't shake the residual anxiety of nearly losing you, the concern that one day his abilities may be worthless to keep you safe.

"favorite, huh?" you tease, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the pain.

"absolutely," he says, winking. "and you know, you gave us quite a scare. i mean, i had to carry you all the way back here. do you have any idea how heavy you are?"

you glare at him playfully. "maybe if you weren't so scrawny, it wouldn't have been a problem."

the guy laughs, the sound infectious. "touché. but really, you had us all worried. even sakamoto looked like he might actually break a sweat."

"i'm sorry," you say softly, feeling a pang of guilt for the trouble you caused. “i really thought it could handle them by myself. sorry..”

nagumo's expression softens for a moment, his usual levity giving way to genuine concern. "hey, don't apologize. i've got your back, and you've got mine. besides, it’s not like i’d let anything happen to my favorite partner, riiight? why are you looking at me like that?”

before you can respond, he suddenly leans in close, a mischievous glint in black pupils. "oh, by the way, did i tell you? i told the nurses you’re afraid of needles. so they might have a surprise for you when they come to change your IV."

your eyes widen in horror, and he bursts out laughing at your reaction. "relax, i’m kidding. or am i? guess you’ll find out soon enough."

"you rascal," you mutter, shaking your head.

"you owe me a box of pocky sticks," he says with a grin, leaning back in his chair.

despite the pain and exhaustion, you can’t help but smile. "i guess i do."

he reaches over and gently squeezes your hand. "get some rest. i’ll be here when you wake up. and who knows, maybe i’ll have another riddle for you."

"great," you say sarcastically, if it’s not for your injuries, maybe you’ve already thrown a pillow at his face. though, you know you can always count on him to be there for you, pranks and all.

@uzurakis

[harringtonstilinski]

Always The Babysitter - Chapter Thirty-Three: Papa

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Steve Harrington x Olivia Henderson(OC) Word Count: 5,826 Warnings: squint for fluff, angst, canon violence, liv being indecisive but go with it, buggy = shopping cart in southern terms, Smut: no | yes; 18+ MINORS DNI: A/N: Hi, friends! I can't believe we're one chapter away from the end until Season 5 comes out! If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

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Everyone jumped into gear, trying to find music for Nancy so that we could bring her out of her Vecna trance. Steve and I locked eyes as he freaked out while trying to wake up Nancy. “Whatever you guys are doing up there, hurry up!”

Erica and I looked at each other then booked it to the backroom, which I guess was Eddie’s room. “Steve says you need to hurry the hell up!”

“Yeah, no  shiiiiiiit!” Dustin yelled.

“We’re trying,” Max said. “We can’t find anything.”

“Seriously, what is all this shit?” Robin asked.

“I mean, wh-wh-what are you even looking for?” Eddie asked, running back in the room, a bunch of cassettes in his arms as I stood next to him.

“Madonna, Blondie, Bowie, Beatles! Music, we need music!”

Eddie held up an Iron Maiden cassette as he and I yelled, “THIS IS MUSIC!”

I grabbed the cassette from his hand before grabbing the cassette player, running back to the mattress… only, when I got there and looked up to tell Steve we got the music, what I saw brought me back to our Junior year when he started dating Nancy; Steve holding Nancy in his arms on the ground, her telling her that everything was okay and that he was there for her.

I looked down as I heard footsteps rushing towards the mattress, tears lining my waterline. I sniffled a little then looked up, seeing Dustin looking at me, puzzled. “Uhm,” I said, wiping my lower lash line. “She broke out herself. She’s fine.”

Sighing, I said, “I’ll be outside. I just need some fresh air. Ya’know, being stuck in the Upside Down all night.” I lightly chuckled with no humor behind it at all. Before I could step around him, Dustin gave me a hug, one that I returned, tightly. He pulled away before looking up, asking Steve and Nancy if they were ready to come down.

I stepped outside, sitting on the porch that was off the right of the door… or left, depending on which way you were looking. Part of me wanted to go into Eddie’s stash to look for something to calm my racing thoughts, another part wanted a cigarette, and the last part wanted to go off into town and steal something, but I resisted all urges when I heard the door open, a voice following after, “There you are.”

Looking to my left, I watched as Steve carefully made his way across the small patch of grass that sat in between the porch and the steps to the front door, careful not to step on any sticker bushes.

“Hi,” I said, quietly, turning to face him, my legs dangling over the side.

Steve stood in between them, his neck at my eyeline. Bringing my hand up, I lightly traced over them, smiling a little, more to myself than anything.

“You’re smiling at my wounds?” he asked.

Lightly shaking my head, I snickered before looking at his eyes. “You make wounds look good. I mean–” I sighed, dropping my head again. Looking back up at him, I said, “This whole look you’re sporting right now has got you looking–” I brought up the okay hand gesture while winking and clicking my tongue once before continuing, “Fucking amazing, and I would love nothing more than to sneak off somewhere, kiss you stupid and do things to you, clothing optional.”

Steve laughed, resting his hands on my outer thighs. “I love you. And I would love to do all that, too, but we can’t, unfortunately.” He was quiet for a minute before he spoke up again. “You gonna tell me why you’re really out here? Dustin said something about you needing fresh air.”

“You don’t buy it?” I asked.

He sighed. “I do, but I know there’s more to it.”

It was my turn to sigh, my hands barely skimming over the makeshift bandage we made out of Nancy’s shirt. “Just… the way you were holding her brought me back to when you two were dating. I know I shouldn’t let it affect me, but… I guess it still kind of does. I mean, she’s been gawking at you the whole time we've been in this little group together. I just–” Another sigh. “I don’t know. I’m not jealous, but I guess I’m a little annoyed that she’s gawking at you when she clearly has Jonathan, she’s put herself in charge of this group, she’s being aggressive with her words towards Eddie, and–”

My words stopped as Steve’s lips pressed to mine, and I instantly shut the hell up, wrapped my arms around his neck gently to not hurt his wounds, and closed my eyes, relishing in the way his lips felt on mine.

I always had this feeling with Steve. I always enjoyed being with him, sexually and non-sexually. Steve was my soulmate, I could feel it. Since we were kids, I’ve always enjoyed being around him. He made me laugh, cry, feel better about myself, and I’m sure I’ve done the same with him.

He knows my boundaries, he knows what I do and don’t like, he knows my favorite song from all the artists I listen to. He just… knows. And I him. I know every single thing there is to know about Steve Harrington. 

When I felt his hands under my shirt, resting on my waist, I was fucking done for. “We–” I said, pulling away from him a little. “We better stop or else I’ll be screaming your name on this porch.”

He laughed lightly at that, taking a small step back. “Well, let’s go then. The sun’s about to rise.”

~~~

We’d all decided to go across the road to Max’s trailer, it being big enough to house all of us. Steve, Eddie and myself were all sitting on the couch, Erica on one of the arms, Nancy sitting on the chair across from us, Dustin standing next to the couch, Robin sitting on the floor, leaning against the entertainment center, Max on the other side of the couch near the kitchen, and Lucas standing on the other side of Nancy by the door.

She looked traumatized as she explained what Vecna showed her. “He showed me things that haven’t happened yet. The most awful things. I saw a dark cloud spreading over Hawkins. Downtown on fire. Dead soldiers. And this… this giant creature with… a gaping mouth. And this creature wasn’t alone. There were so many monsters. An army, and they were coming into Hawkins, into our neighborhoods, our homes. And then he showed me my mom.”

I looked over at Dustin after she said that about her mom, fear in both of our eyes at our mom being hurt or worse… dead. I didn’t want to find my mom’s body because of Vecna because if I did, I wouldn’t stop looking for him to kill him right on site. 

“And Holly… Mike,” Nancy continued. “And they… they were all…”

It was quiet for a moment while she quietly cried before Steve sighed next to me, saying, “Okay, but… he’s just trying to scare you, Nance. Right? I mean… I mean, it’s not real.”

“Not yet,” she whispered. “But there… there was something else.”

“Care to share with the rest of the class?” I asked.

“Liv, I’m getting there.” She looked down and around at nothing as she said, “He showed me gates. Four gates. Spreading across Hawkins. And these gates, they looked like the one outside of Eddie’s trailer, but they didn’t stop growing. And this wasn’t the Upside Down Hawkins. This was our Hawkins. Our home.”

I looked over at Steve, seeing him moving from the corner of my eye. His hands were at his mouth, one covering the other, his eyes closed. Wrapping my hand around his upper arm, I leaned my head against his shoulder, feeling the weight of what Nancy had explained.

“Four chimes,” Max said. Every single pair of eyes looked over at her, her words continuing, “Vecna’s clock. It always chimes four times. Four exactly.”

“I heard them, too,” Nancy whispered.

I sighed and closed my eyes, not really wanting to deal with any of this right now, but as I opened my eyes, I saw that we were all looking back at Nancy.

Taking a deep breath, I released it while picking my head up, saying, “He’s been telling us his plan this whole time.”

“Four kills,” Lucas said. 

Turning my head to look at Lucas, all I could do was press my lips together, annoyed.

“Four gates,” he added, looking at Max.

Standing, I released an annoyed breath, walking to stand between Nancy and Lucas by the door. “I’ve been saying that for a couple days now. But no one listens to Olivia! It’s basically the end of the world.”

“Liv, if that’s true…” Dustin said. “He’s only one kill away.”

“Yeah, and who the hell do you think he’s gonna come back after.” I gestured towards Max. “Our lovely little redhead.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie said, burying his face in his hands. “Jesus Christ.”

“Try ‘em again,” Steve said.

Oh, did I mention that once we got to Max’s we tried calling the Byers’? No? Oh, well… we did, and no answer.

“Try ‘em again.”

Max went into the kitchen to try making that phone call again to the Byers as I heard my name being whispered. I looked over at Steve, knowing he was the one to call my name. Walking back towards the couch, he reached out his hand for me to take, which I gladly did.

I sat down between him and Eddie again just as Steve sat back on the cushions. He pulled me into him, getting into our normal sleeping position, just… sitting up on a couch.

A few seconds later, Dustin asked, “Anything?” to which Max replied, “No. Rang a few times, then went to busy signal.”

“Maybe you punched it in wrong,” Steve said. “Try it again.”

“I didn’t punch it in wrong,” Max replied.

“Well, I don’t know.”

“Dude, I think she knows how to use a phone,” Dustin said.

“I’m just saying, she could’ve typed it in wrong.”

Max had called again, so when I heard her hang up the phone again, I sighed. “Same shit,” she said.

“How is that possible?” Lucas asked.

“Maybe they’re actually busy, or they’re not home,” I said.

“No,” Dustin said. “I told you guys, Joyce has this telemarketer job. She’s always on the phone. Mike won’t stop whining about it.”

“Okay, yeah, but this phone’s been busy for, what, three days now?” Max said. “That’s not Joyce. No way. Something’s wrong.”

Taking a deep breath, I shifted on Steve, trying to get more comfortable. “Maybe they’re off on their own little adventure.”

“Max is right,” Nancy said. “It can’t be just coincidence. It can’t be.” She got up and walked to the front window, looking out of it as she continued, “Whatever’s happening in Lenora is connected to all of this. I’m sure of it. But Vecna can’t hurt them.”

“Doubt they know about Vecna,” I deadpan.

“Not if he’s dead.” Quickly turning back around to face the group, she said, “We have to go back in there. Back to the Upside Down.”

“Whoa, no, no, no, no, no,” Steve said as Eddie also said, “Nope.” Sighing, I stood and looked at her, all the seriousness I could muster in my eyes. “NO one is going back to the Upside Down. Not a fucking soul.”

Steve stood up and walked over to Nancy, standing in front of her. “Now, let’s think this through.”

“What is there to think through?” Nancy asked.

Moving to stand in between them, I looked at Nancy, rage in my eyes. “My boyfriend almost got murdered, Nancy! What if it was Jonathan! You wouldn’t go back in there!”

“She’s right,” Steve said. “We barely made it out of there in one piece.”

“Yeah, because we weren’t prepared,” Nancy said. “But this time, we will be. We’ll get weapons and protection. We’ll go through the gate, we’ll find his lair, and we’ll kill him.”

I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at Nancy as Steve said, “Yeah, or he’ll kill us.”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” I asked. “The only fucking reason you survived was because he wanted you to. He’s not fucking scared of us.”

“Language,” Nancy said.

“And for good reason,” Robin said, standing. “We were wrong about Venca. Henry. One. Sorry, wh-what are we calling him now?”

About four people gave their opinion, confusing Robin, to which I said, “Robs, focus, babe.”

“Right.” Not sure who she directed that at, but I’ll take it. “We’ve learned something new about Vecna/Henry/One. He’s a number like Eleven, only a sick, evil, male, child-murdering version of her with really bad skin, but my-my-my-my point is, he’s super powerful. He could turn us inside out with the snap of his fingers. It’s not a fair fight.”

“So then why fight fair?” Dustin said. “You’re right, he’s like Eleven.”

“That gives us the upperhand,” I added. “We know her strengths, and weaknesses.”

“Weaknesses?” Erica asked.

“Yeah!” I said, a small smile appearing on my face. “When El remote travels–”

“She goes into this sort of trance-like state,” Dustin said. 

“Bet it’s the same for Vecna.”

“That would explain what he was doing in that attic,” Lucas said.

“Exactly!” Dustin and I said. He continued with “When he attacks his next victim, I’ll bet’cha he’s back in that attic, physical body defenseless.”

“Defenseless?” Steve said. “Yeah, what about the army of bats?” He gestured to his neck, making me a little sad.

“Right?” Dustin said. “True, we’ll have to find a way past them. Distract them somehow.”

I sighed, now seriously aggravated. “No one is going back to the Upside Down!”

“And, uh, how do we do that, exactly?” Eddie asked.

“No idea.”

“By not going,” I added.

“Dearest sister, once they’re gone, he doesn’t stand a chance!” Dustin said. “It’ll be like slaying sleeping Dracula in his coffin!”

“That all sounds good in theory,” Robin said. “But there is no pattern to Vecna’s killings. I mean, at least not one that I can decipher.”

“She’s right,” I said. “You don’t know when he’s going to attack next. Or who, for that matter.”

Without missing a beat, Max said, “Yeah, we do.”

“No.”

“I can still feel him.”

“No.”

“I’m still… marked, Liv. Cursed.” 

“Don’t even think about it,” I said, pointing in her direction.

Max continued, “I ditch Kate Bush, I draw his focus back to me.”

Tears sprung to my eyes as she said this. I could see why she wanted to, but I didn’t want her to basically sacrifice herself just for Vecna to be distracted for a moment. With a couple of tears streaming down my cheeks, I whispered, “Max.”

She looked at me before Lucas added, “You can’t.”

“He’ll kill you,” Lucas and I said.

“I survived before,” she said. After a few seconds, she added, “I can survive again.”

Wanting to rip my hair out, I made a frustrated grunt, while also wanting to throw or punch something.

“Liv–”

“No!”

“I just–I need to keep him busy long enough so that you guys can get into that attic. Then you can chop his head off, stab him in the heart, blow him up with some explosives Dustin and/or Liv cooks up. I honestly–I really don’t care how you put this asshole in his grave. Just… whatever it is… whatever you do…” She looked directly at me, eyes intensely locking on mine. “Try not to miss.” 

Dropping my head back, as well as dropping my arms from their crossed position, I groaned before closing my eyes. Feeling hands on my shoulders, I picked my head up and opened my eyes, meeting Steve’s somewhat worried one. “You guys stress me out.”

~~~

Eddie had grabbed a phonebook, telling us all to gather over at the dining table. I was standing between him and Steve with everyone else crowding around us as Eddie slammed the book down onto the table, pointing to a spot on the page he had opened it up to, an advertisement for The War Zone. “Check this out. The War Zone. I’ve been there once. It’s huge. They got… everything you need for, uhh… well, uh, killing things, basically.”

“Fake Rambo got enough guns there, Eddie?” I asked. “Bro, is that a grenade?”

“I mean, how is any of this legal?” Robin asked on Eddie’s left side.

“Well, lucky for us it is, so…” Eddie said, sarcastically. “This-this place is just far enough outside of Hawkins.”

“Just as long as we steer clear of the main roads, we should be able to avoid the cops and angry hicks,” I said. At the looks everyone gave, I breathed in annoyance. “For Eddie, dumbasses.”

“If we’re trying to avoid angry hicks,” Erica said. “Maybe we shouldn’t go to some store called The War Zone.”

“Normally I’d agree, but we need the weapons,” Nancy said. “So, I think it’s worth the risk.”

“Me, too,” Lucas sighed.

Leaning onto the table with the palm of my hands, I chuckled while hanging my head forward, my chin meeting my collarbone. “You guys are still fucking nuts.”

“Language,” Nancy muttered.

“Coming from the girl who said bullshit about five times in a freaking row,” I said, picking up my head to look at Nancy. “You guys are nuts for wanting to venture back to the Upside Down, and for wanting to put Eddie’s life in danger.” Turning my eyes to my brother, I said, “Dustin, what’s your stance on this? I mean, Eddie’s your other older male best friend.”

“Is it worth the time? It’ll take all day to bike there and back,” he replied.

“Who said anything about bikes?” Eddie said.

“You got some sort of car we don’t know about?” Steve asked.

Standing up straight, Eddie looked over my head at Steve, smiling as he said, “It’s not exactly a car, Steve. And it’s not exactly mine, but, uh… it’ll do.” Turning around to face Max, Eddie said, “Hey, Red, uh, you got a ski mask or a bandana, something like that?”

Audibly taking a deep breath, I turned my head to look at her, a sly smile on my face. “You got that Halloween mask from ‘84?”

She smiled a little at me before going into her bedroom to retrieve the mask, giving it to Eddie, who went outside with all of us following him. We made it to the side of one of the trailers before he put the mask on, poking his head around the side, causing me to laugh quietly. 

We ran past the trailer that was across the way from us before going around the side of an RV, Eddie jumping in first. As I jumped in with Steve’s help, I heard Eddie say, “That was suffocating,” after he discarded the Michael Myers mask.

I looked back, watching as Steve jumped in behind me, everyone else following after him as I followed Eddie to the front of the RV. Watching as Eddie reached under the steering wheel, I asked, “Whoa, hey, what’re you doing?” He cut a cord as his answer, my eyes going wide. “You’re hotwiring it?”

“Where’d you learn how to do this?” Steve asked.

“It’s simple,” I said. Silence filled the air for a moment as I looked back at Steve, who had his brows scrunched. “Oh, you weren’t asking me, okay.” Turning my head back to face Eddie, Steve said, “We’ll talk about that later.”

“Ed-Eddie? Wanna answer?” I said.

“Well, Henderson, when the other dads were teaching their kids how to fish or play ball, my old man was teaching me how to hotwire. Now, I swore to myself I wouldn’t wiiiind up like he did, but now I’m wanted for murder, and soon, grand theft auto. So, uhh, I’m really living up to that Munson name.” As he explained all this, he was cutting what he needed before brushing the wires against each other.

Robin came up behind us, saying, “Uh, Eddie, I’m not sure I love the idea of you driving.”

“Oh, I’m just starting this sucker,” Eddie said. “Harrington’s got her. Don’t ‘cha, big boy?”

I looked at Eddie, confused, as the engine started, the owners demanding us to open the door that Eddie had locked upon arrival inside the RV. 

“Hey!”

“They locked the door!”

“Well, are we just gonna stand here and look pretty while they try to bust in and call the cops on Eddie, or are we actually gonna steal this fucking thing?” I asked.

“Shit, go,” Steve said, pushing Eddie out of the driver’s seat. I moved to sit in the passenger seat. 

“Babe, it’s just a car,” I said, seeing the panic in his eyes.

“Everybody, hang on to something!” Steve yelled, turning to face the back for a moment.

I saw Nancy moving towards the front as I looked back to see where Dustin was sitting as Lucas said, “Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Let’s go! Let’s go!”

“Drive, Steve, driiiiiiiiiiiiiiive!” Dustin yelled.

I watched as Steve put the RV in drive before putting his foot on the gas pedal, sending the vehicle forward, Lucas’ repeating of the word “Go!”

“Shit, they look pissed,” Dustin said.

“I mean, it’s not everyday you lose your house and car in one fell swoop,” Robin said. 

Even through my excited laughter, I still heard everything they said. 

“Hold on, hold on, hold on!” Steve said. He swerved a little, running into the trash cans at the side of the road, before making the widest turn onto the main road, almost taking us off said road a couple times. 

When my laughter eventually died down, I turned to look at Steve, chuckling, “Remind me to never let you drive an RV again.”

He chuckled while trying to get a feel for it. “Okay.”

~~~

The further we drove, the more stable the vehicle seemed to be, which told me that Steve was getting a handle on it. I couldn't help but smile at him as he got more comfortable with it. Almost reminded me of when he learned how to drive, how comfortable he got in his car after his parents gifted it to him.

I could feel Nancy’s eyes staring into me as I just looked at Steve, taking a deep breath to start a conversation. “How’s it handle, babe?”

“Not half bad,” he replied. “Considering that this is a… house.”

I chuckled. “Was that a sarcastic comment I just heard?” I watched the corner of his mouth lift up a little, a quick and quiet chuckle coming from him. The moment it was quiet, I listened to the radio, singing along to what was playing on the radio, “They let me know you were gone.”

Sighing happily, I turned my head over my shoulder to look at Steve, smiling. “Do you remember when we were in, like, 7th grade and we heard this song for the first time?”

I saw the look on his face like he was thinking about it. “What’s this song again?”

“Fire and Rain by James Taylor. I remember just sitting in your room one night and this song came on the radio, and I instantly fell in love with it.” I knew he remembered what the song was, but telling him the first time I ever heard this song will forever be my favorite. That was also the night I knew I liked him as more than a friend.

“I know you know a lot about me and my… dreams, or whatever, but I don’t think I’ve ever told you this,” he said.

“Told me what?” I asked, turning a little to face him.

“Ya’know, it’s… it’s silly, but I… I’ve actually, uhm… I always had this dream that I’d have this really… really big family,” he explained. “I’m talking like a full brood of Harringtons. Like, five, six kids.”

“Six?” I asked, incredulously with my brows raised. 

“Yeah. Six little nuggets. Three girls, three boys.” He chuckled as he continued, “And-and every summer, I figured all of us Harringtons, we would pack into something like this and… just see the country.”

I looked at him, falling even more in love with him as he continued, “Ya’know, the Rockies, Grand Canyon, maybe Yellowstone.” He looked at me for a moment, that same look in his eyes that I was giving him. “End up in some beachside town in California. Spend a week parked in the sand. Learn how to surf or something.” “I could see you surfing,” I said, quietly, after a moment before adding, “But, that sounds amazing.”

He looked at me, asking, “Yeah?”

I nodded my head, smiling. “Yeah.” I wanted to lean over and kiss him stupid, but couldn’t or else we’d crash. “Uhm, except for that six kid part. I love you, but that sounds like a total nightmare with a migraine.”

He looked in the back of the RV for a quick second, saying, “If only I had some practice.”

Looking back at everyone in the back, I smirked, chuckling to myself. “Yep, that’s fair.” I stretched my hand out for him to take, to which he quickly did, lacing our fingers together.

“I would kiss your hand, but I’d drag you out of your seat,” he said, chuckling, looking at me for a moment.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

He turned his head back to look out at the road as I started to sing along to the song once more, turning my own head to look out at the road.

~~~

I guess I had dozed off or something because I was being woken up by Steve whispering my name, saying that we were at War Zone. He gave me the option of staying with Dustin or coming inside. I chose the latter. Dustin could take care of himself, but that didn’t stop me from telling him to not draw attention to the RV.

Erica, myself, Steve, Max, Robin and Nancy went inside the store after having parked out back. We stood there as we all looked around, seeing a shit ton of people inside.

“So much for avoiding angry hicks,” Robin said.

“Let’s just get what we need and leave,” I said. “And, please, don’t draw attention to yourself.”

“Let’s be… fast,” Nancy said.

“Yup,” Robin added.

“Definitely,” Erica retorted.

Steve took my hand and led me to the men’s clothing section, where he picked out a leather jacket, a camo style shirt, a random pair of socks and some combat boots. After I had found a similar outfit for me that was more my style, we found Robin putting some gas cans into the buggy.

“How many of these do you think we need?” she asked.

“Five or six,” Steve answered, putting a couple more into the buggy.

I noticed Robin standing still, looking off, so I looked in the direction she was looking in before looking back and forth between her and the girl she was looking at as I remembered who that girl was. “What’cha gonna do, Robs?”

“Just stand here and gawk at her?” Steve added.

“Shut up,” she said. She took one step forward before stopping, some guy having come up to Vickie, scaring her. 

The three of us watched their interaction, my excitement dwindling as I felt Robin’s confidence start to plummet. We watched them kiss, my heart breaking for Robin. I wanted to kill that boy for interrupting the moment Robin was having. 

Vickie turned to look at us - well, Robin - before her boyfriend decided to do so as well, my best friend turning and running away from us as Steve and I called her name.

Erica found us a couple of minutes later, saying that Jason and his basketball buddies were in the store. Once we found Nancy, we all hauled ass out of the store, paying of course, all of our gear in all of our hands as we booked it back to the RV.

Steve opened the door, walking in first as Lucas asked what happened. “We gotta go.”

“Your old friends are here,” Erica said, sitting next to her brother.

I walked in the RV, going to sit in the passenger seat, Nancy having beat me to it. Thank God Robin had called her name, giving her a look that made her roll her eyes before getting up. I sat down as Max climbed in, closing the door.

~~~

Steve found a big ass piece of land to hide out at, everyone getting out to set up different stations, I guess. Nancy and Max were at one station with the shotgun we had purchased, Lucas and Erica making spears with knives and big ass sticks at another, Eddie and Dustin making shields out of metal trash can lids at a third station, while  Steve, Robin and myself were sitting in front of the RV making homemade molotov cocktails with gasoline.

We were sitting on various flat items as we did our task; Steve to my right, Robin to my left. It was quiet for a moment between the three of us as Robin was pouring the gasoline into the bottle that was in my hand. I was looking at Steve as he was contemplating something before he spoke.

“It just doesn’t make sense,” he said.

“What doesn’t make sense,” Robin and I asked.

“That was Dan Shelter. He graduated, like, two years ago.”

“And you’re hung up on this why?” I asked.

“Because he’s in college, babe, which means he was visiting on Spring Break. I mean, wouldn’t you visit me if you were in college?” 

I sighed. “Yes, but I’m not.”

“Anyway, Fast Times was returned, like, I don’t know, a week ago?” Steve said. “Right? Unless she’s got some horndog brother that we don’t know about. Which is possible. Or she’s just, like, really into Judge Reinhold?”

I watched Robin’s reaction as he went on about Vickie’s boyfriend. “Babe, I love you and this outfit is, like, top tier, but if you don’t stop talking, I’m gonna murder you in your sleep,” I said.

“Steve,” Robin said, eyes closed in what is clearly discomfort.

Steve looked over at her, asking, “What?”

“I don’t care,” she said. “And I don’t understand why you do either with everything that’s going on. Honestly, this feels like the perfect time for that little pull of the rug… because in the face of the world ending, the stakes of my love life feel spectacularly low.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, looking down. “I mean, I get you there, but… I still have hope.”

I gave Robin the bottle that I put a cloth in before Steve handed me another one. “Not everything has a happy ending,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah, believe me, I know,” Steve said, looking in front of him before back down at my hands.

I sighed in annoyance. “She’s not talking about failed romance, babe. Besides, you have me now.”

“She’s right,” Robin said, pouring the liquid into the clear bottle. “I have this terrible, gnawing feeling that…” She stopped pouring to look Steve in the eyes as she continued, “It might not work out for us this time.”

“Robin, stop,” I whispered, setting the bottle down on the ground to stand and pace in front of them.

“You think we shouldn’t be doing this?” Steve asked.

Without missing a beat, I turned my head in their direction to say a hard and quick, “No!”

“I think we’re mad fools, the lot of us, but…” Robin said, starting to pour the gas again, but stopped after her statement to sigh and look out at everyone to add, “if we don’t stop him, who will?” She looked back at Steve, saying, “We have to try, right?”

I stopped my pacing to look at my boyfriend, seeing him nodding his head ever so slightly before looking over at Robin to say, “Yeah.” He lifted the bottle in his hand before saying, “To killing Vecna.”

She grabbed one of the bottles next to her, holding it up, replying, “Slash Henry.”

They both turned their eyes to me, an expectant look in their eyes. I sighed exasperatedly and walked over to Robin, picking up another cocktail we had prepared, holding it up in the air as I walked to stand in between them, saying, “Slash One.” We clinked our bottles, Robin and I setting ours back on the ground. 

I honestly didn’t know what else to do, so I walked into the RV, running my fingers through my hair once I was inside, my pacing starting up again. I didn’t even realize I had started crying or that someone had walked into the RV with me until my face was being buried into the person's chest.

I knew that person was Steve. I felt his hand on the back of my head and his lips on the top of my head. Wrapping my arms around his middle, I let out a quiet sob that made him hold me a little tighter. 

“I know,” he whispered. “I’m scared, too.”

“I’m not scared for myself,” I whispered back to him. “I’m scared for Max.” Looking up at him, I felt a tear slide down my cheek as I sniffled. “She’s just a kid.”

“I know, baby, but she’s a strong kid.”

Sighing, I looked at a spot on his shirt for a moment before closing my eyes. “I’m also scared of losing you,” I whispered. It was so soft, I wondered if he heard me or not.

I got my answer as he replied, “Hey, look at me,” while putting his finger under my chin, lifting my head up so that our eyes could meet. Shaking his head while cupping my cheeks, he said, “You’re not going to lose me, you’re never going to lose me.”

I placed my hands on his wrists, more tears streaming down my face. “Do you promise?”

He nodded, quickly. “I promise. I have to kiss you stupid for the rest of our lives.”

I chuckled through my tears, sighing. “I like it when you kiss me stupid.”

~~~

I couldn’t tell you how long Steve and I held each other in the RV before the sun started to set. Everyone pretty much sat in the same seats we were all in before. Shit was getting real and our situation was starting to set in as we drove to the Creel house to drop off Max, Lucas and Erica so that they could execute their part of the plan.

Feeling Steve’s eyes on me, I looked over at him, giving a shy smile, the words “I love you” being whispered from his lips. I whispered them back before sighing.

This was going to be a long night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! pls be kind and reblog! it really helps us content creators out <3

Additional Note: i just wanted to say a quick thank you to my readers on this series for being incredibly patient with me these last few weeks. i've been under a lot of stress, and i think it all just came to a head when my kids were a couple days out from spending time with my dad. my anxiety and depression took a hit because of it. i'm sorry everything is coming out late. it was not my intention. thank you sticking around. it means more to me than you truly realize.

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24​​ @stixnstripesworld​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​​​ @quanticobae​​​ @mischiefandi​​​ @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak​​​​

Steve Harrington Taglist: @madaboutjoe

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on June 10, 2024 *Happy Pride Month to those who celebrate!*

[bellaxgiornata]

OH MY GOD OKAY- so hang on- first off, BELLA, how are you? how's the newborn? how are the kids in general?! i'm happy to hear the birth went well, i hope you're recovering well and that you're not pushing yourself too muchhhhh

ANYWAY. i just found out how my godfather/uncle met his wife and- HOLY SHIT it gives me SUCH Frank or Matt vibes (more frank than matt in my opinion, but 100% either of them) and i had to tell you about it to see if you agreeeeeee (+ it could be a cool oneshot idea if you want it hehe, i'll give it for free)

OKAY SO for the purposes of clarity, my uncle/godfather's name is now Peter, and his wife's name is Molly, because why not?

Peter is invited to his best friend's wedding, and the bride at that wedding warns him "hey, don't you dare talk to Molly" (while pointing Molly out in a crowd) "she just went through a really difficult breakup and though you guys are 100% eachother's types, she is absolutely not ready for another relationship and i don't want you to break her heart if the relationship isn't going to last."

and Peter respects that. except the bride wasn't clear about who she was pointing to. so Peter was avoiding another random girl in the friend group he'd never met and had been talking and flirting all night with Molly without realising it was Molly and he legit spent the whole ceremony and most of the reception sitting right next to her and chatting.

and then during the reception, the bride realises that Peter and Molly are talking and she tells Peter like- "why are you talking to Molly, I told you to stay away from her!" and he's like "that's Molly? well you were right then" and then the bride is like "about what?" and he's like "that we're eachother's types. I gave her my phone number an hour into us meeting and I've already asked her out on a date and she said yes."

and now they've been married for 10 years or so and have two daughters

LIKE IT'S ALL SO CUTE- when i found out i wanted to die because of how adorable it is- like it's genuinely the meet-cute in a rom-com kind of shit- and to me it's SO Frank or Matt-coded (helps that my godfather/uncle is military and is built nearly exactly like Frank- like seriously shave frank's head, make him look slightly less worn out and traumatised and you have my godfather/uncle + they have the exact same sense of humour and stuff).

Hey, friend!! 💖 My response is a bit long so I put it below the cut. But enjoy this Frank gif to break things up (and because I wouldn't be able to resist that man looking at me like that at a wedding...).

I am doing well! I've had a cold shortly after coming home from the hospital which has been rough on top of everything else, but I feel a little better today and I have been taking time to try to take care of myself. Our little baby is doing well, boy can down milk like no one's business and he's generally a pretty happy little guy all the time. My toddler absolutely adores him already, but he's been an only child for almost 4 years so he's been having a hard time sharing our attention. The birth had some scary ups and downs last week, but things ended up okay and both baby and I are alright! I will say that I've had enough experience with child birth and don't want to do it a third time after that, though 😅

Ahhh!! OMG! I love stories like this! I used to be a wedding photographer for about 11 years before becoming a stay at home mom and I LOVE hearing stories of how couples met (or got engaged) because it's so interesting to hear about! And I can actually see a story for either Matt or Frank so I may keep that in mind for a one shot now, thank you 😆

But yes! I could absolutely see an innocent Frank at a wedding getting the women mixed up and genuinely talking to the "wrong" one and they end up hitting it off in the end and he sticks by her side for most of the night. Sweet Frank would soothe anyone's broken heart. As for Matt, well, I could see him making an innocent mistake, but truly I could see Fog warning him to stay away from a family member or friend and Matt "accidentally" talking to her and pretending he thought it was another woman Fog warned him to stay away from. I mean, it's Matt and he's a little shit sometimes 🤣

But that's so crazy!! Thank you for sharing this story with me!! I always love taking real life moments and then thinking about how the guys might react if it had happened to them! But I do agree that this screams more Frank than Matt (unless it was about intentionally ignoring the friend's warning because that screams Matt).

[magnificentempress]

another unpopular opinion of mine is that i dont think it is helpful to say that rape ruins or otherwise irreversibly damages the victim's life

like i absolutely do not deny that it is in fact a vile crime and the rapist's life should be ruined

however treating someone as "beyond repair" and to nearly condescend like "no wonder you might never fully recover" or idk

if we say that a penis doesnt change a woman's value in case of virginity loss, isnt it fair to say that same applies to rape

again i am NOT saying that rape is not a big deal and victims should just get over it - NOT what im saying

i just think that it would be more helpful with less misery porn and more understanding and reminders that the victim is not "ruined". yeah it was a shitty experience that left scars. it doesnt have to be the end of your life and you dont have to be a perfect victim and be absolutely devastated and heartbroken and depressed because otherwise people will be like "were you really raped?" and "you dont look like a victim"

like seriously fuck these guys. yeah shit happened but im still grooving lol what are you gonna do about it? be mad?

do you see my point

[sluttyten]

My afraid-of-romance ass has just been asked by another regular customer for my number and the stupid thing is that again I do think this guy is kinda cute and I really probably should say yes

[boxwinebaddie]

an uncle nina check in <3

hi team! thanks for sticking around! i know my blog isn't always the most exciting and enriching place in the world in terms of content, but i am very /content/ to have you all here. <3333

i promise, oddly enough, i have A TON of inspiration and ideas for all my weird styles ( if you're curious about anything please lmk! i've been trying to flesh out my aus out lately ), i've just been in a major bummer depression era lately, so it's hard for me to get my asks done and i'm having a hard time committing to finishing my writing. :<

i think it's because of stress and my bipolar, but i am trying to get back on the horse! ( are we all laughing at the idea of me trying to get on a horse? i'd start crying help city girl fail moment for me ) yeehaw!

and while, unfortunately due to the instability ( fabulous legendary iconery ) of my pretty girl popstar personality, i do not know whether i will be answering almost no questions or one million, regardless of that, i just wanted to let you know, i'm still here, still kicking my feet, twirling my hair, cooking...i'm just really trying not to force myself to put out anything i don't like...and only do what makes me truly happy.

however, nothing, my dear sweet e-darlings...

makes me happier than coming home to all of you. <333

so thank you for flooding even the darkest corners of my life with bright light, supporting my phantom fics and being wonderful,

uncle nina xx

[solradguy]

Whenever I see someone being transphobic on twt in a bridget thread i reply with three pictures of my mains: ky kiske from ac+r, ky kiske from rev 2, and ky kiske from strive.

it self selects for people who actually play the game. it’s canon that he’ll fight off transphobes with the blade. and if they actually played guilty gear they’d get the underlining messages

While it can be really funny to bully these guys back, please keep in mind that nothing you can say or do to these people will hurt them or waste as much of their time as what they say will stick with you or waste your time. It might be funny to send them a bunch of Ky pictures, but what they're doing is laughing that the only response the people they hate can give them is sending a bunch of pictures of anime boys.

The only thing that works is blocking them. They've turned being an asshole into a recreational sport and getting any sort of response in return is a victory for them.

[topaztimes]

Hi this is a vent post! Continue scrolling if you'd rather not see that

[babydarkstar]

genuine question if youre out to your parents: how did u do it and how did they react. should i sit them down or should i just casually bring it up in conversation. it’s a big deal to me so maybe i should emphasize that it’s a big deal

[random-human-being2311]

I love encountering the "I only like their '70s songs" queen fans because they're such a funny flavour of extremely pretentious

the way they talk about it you'd think their entire family was personally murdered by a synthesiser and/or a drum machine

[corpsoir]

hi. ever wondered how skagen got his scar over his eye. well i wrote a little silly story about it have funnnn if theres misspellings or weird grammar no theres not dont look at it <3

its about 1.4k words long!

cw for drowning!

He has dreamt about drowning. Read about it in books, seen it in movies too. All of that had failed to mention just how badly it would hurt and how exhausting it is. Every single gasp for air feels like knives in his chest, but then again, it’s not much air he’s breathing in after all. His lungs are filled with the salt of the sea around him, the loud crashing of the waves against the rocks fills his ears, making him feel dizzy. His arms and legs feel like they're made of lead, fighting the waves becomes increasingly impossible the more he moves.

How did he even end up here? Skagen’s mind feels foggy and blurry, and instead of focusing on trying to keep his head above the waves, his mind wanders. It’s easier than trying to fight the sea anyways, and oh he’s so tired… Oh, how easy it would be to just... Let go and relax, letting the sea cradle him and rock him until his eyelids feel like heavy leather, impossible to keep open. One wave sweeps him farther away from the rocks, and the next sends him hurtling against them. Somewhere in the distance he can feel the barnacles tearing his skin open.

The salt in Skagen's eyes and lungs stings. The waves are whispering and roaring simultaneously, and he feels himself floating away to just this morning, lying safely in bed under his warm covers. The memory already feels a little bit blurry around the edges, like spilled water on an ink drawing. Was it really just this morning? It feels like it's been eons. Another gasp for air just fills his lungs with more water. He misses his blanket; this shit is cold and kind of sucks.

Skagen let’s himself get carried away by the sea, back to his warm bed under the covers, the morning sun casting golden stripes in his room, tickling his eyelashes. A hand brushes his hair from his cheek, and he can feel a tired smile forming on his face. The hand then grabs his shoulder and shakes him impatiently.

"Stooop, just five more minutes, come on..." he drawls.

Skagen is hit by a cold rush or air when the covers are lifted, and someone slinks in beside him. Oh, that's right. Solvei had stayed over for a sleepover, now he remembers... Or... Does he? The memory is getting really grainy, the ink on the paper losing its original shape becoming a pitch black, shapeless swirl in the water.

He's so warm and cosy here, his bed rocking him back to sleep. Just five more minutes. Arms still heavy as lead, wrapping them around Solvei proves to be a challenge. Is she slipping away from him already?

"What the hell Sol, come back, where are you going...?" he mumbles, or at least he tries to. All he can muster is a wet gurgle, and it burns. Oh, it burns and his entire face hurts. The covers suddenly feel sharp, like they’re digging into his skin, the pillow a sharp point straight through his eye.

"Skagen," he can hear Solvei saying somewhere far away, above him. "Open your eyes, you idiot."

He does.

He's greeted with the worst pain he's ever felt in his life. His face feels like it's being split in half, torn apart, and a rush of adrenaline surges through his body. Skagen tries to whip his head around to find the surface, but the pain is literally pulling on his face, and the water around him is red, thick with blood.

Wait, are there sharks on the west coast? The thought suddenly hits him out of nowhere, until he realises it’s a fucking stupid thought and he’s currently drowning. There are no blood-thirsty sharks in Sweden. There is water in his lungs though.

He can barely see anything. His hair, the seaweed, the blood, the sunshine breaking through the surface above, all rendering him completely unable to see.

Something yanks on him then, the pain in his face shooting through his entire body, and suddenly he breaks through the surface, yet again feeling his skin being torn apart by the barnacles on the rocks. He wants to scream, but instead of noise its water rushing out of his lungs.

While in the water, his arms and legs felt heavy and difficult to move, but now it's virtually impossible. He tries to sit up, tries to move his arms and get away from the waves lapping at his feet and legs, but no matter what he does he can’t force his muscles to move even an inch.

He can hear someone shouting, a man’s voice. Stop yelling, Skagen thinks. I’m trying to sleep here, can you shut up?

The last rush of adrenaline he felt has left him, and he's left a cold, bruised and bloody mess on the rocks.

---

Next thing he knows, he's in a hospital bed. Warm blankets remind him of this morning again. Oh, this feels nice actually, it's just what he needed! Warm, cosy, it feels like he's floating. He can hear his parents outside, but their conversation is muffled and sounds... Weird. It's as if someone pitched everything down and made every noise sound offbeat and out of tune. There's a pressure on his face and opening his eyes he realises his right eye has been covered with something. He tries to raise his hand to poke at whatever is covering his face.

Someone is holding his hand in place.

"If you would've died there, I would've killed you, Skagen."

Ah, it's Solvei.

Grinning, he turns to look at her. "What're you talking about... I’d be double dead…” he grumbles. God, his vocal cords feel like they’re made of sandpaper. Sound like it, too.

Solvei slaps the hand she's holding and doesn't return his smile. The slight upward twitch in the corners of her lips doesn't go unnoticed by Skagen though.

"You-... Shut up, you were drowning! Stop joking, you scared the shit out of me! They had to bring you here with a fucking helicopter! What if it had crashed!" She is genuinely upset with him, that much is clear. Skagen feels a sting of guilt. He shuffles onto his elbows and slowly sits up, even this little movement renders him out of breath. Ugh, breathing hurts.

"Are you saying I got to fly in a helicopter, and I don't even remember it?" he says, voice strained.

Another slap on his hand sends him into a hoarse laughing fit, and this time Solvei can't keep herself from smiling.

"Careful, before I go tell the nurse to bring me water to finish what the sea started, you idiot."

Skagen scrunches his nose, pokes his tongue out at her and lies down again. God, his body is tired, aching. Bones, muscles, lungs and everything. Especially his face.

About that.

Skagen raises his free hand to poke at the bandages. What the hell happened to him?

“I don’t think you should touch that; the doctor said it looked uh… Pretty bad. I didn’t get to see it though, he might be lying. I dunno.” Solvei lets go of his hand and runs her fingers through his bangs. Sectioning the hair off in even chunks, giving him a clumsy, five stranded braid.

Skagen pokes at his face anyways.

“I can’t really feel anything though, it’s probably not that bad. I think I just got hit with the boom when the boat gybed…” Skagen closes his eye and yawns.

Solvei snorts. Continues her messy braiding. “Uh, yeah no wonder you don’t feel anything, they’ve probably given you like, every painkiller ever. On the planet. And also,” she yanks the half-done braid playfully, “did you forget what I told you already? You nearly drowned. Some guy found you and helped you, said he was out fishing. Caught you on his hook.”

It takes a few seconds of Skagen processing what he’s hearing – no doubt the painkillers making his mind a little foggy – before he starts giggling uncontrollably.

“Would you still like me if I was a trout?” he wheezes.

The laughter erupting from Solvei is only making Skagen cackle more.

“No, you weirdo, I would turn you into fish fingers immediately!” Using the now finished braid she whips him over the nose with it. Gently, of course.

“I bet I would taste delicious.”

“I bet you would taste disgusting. Hey, your hair is still full of salt.”

[iero]

I love that Stranger Things has now overtaken Shameless as my all-time favorite show I think because when I did tell people Shameless was my favorite show, people thought there was something seriously wrong with me and recommended me therapy.