#and she goes 'yeah on MEN'

[astrangergivingthestrangewelcome]

Me: so anyway yeah the doctor's appointment went fine

My mom: gee I wonder what they thought about your Hairy Unshaved Legs

***

Me: yeah I had a great day hanging out with my friends

My mom: oh I wonder were you wearing shorts? Shorts that showed how you don't shave your legs?

***

Me: I met x new person today they seem nice!

Mom: hmm. Do THEY shave their legs

***

Me: yeah I just read today on the couch it was so nice and chill

My mom: oh? Reading about other women who don't shave?

***

Me: yup just doing some cooking currently

Mom: right, right from the cookbook "Recipes for Women with Hairy Legs"?

[jadewritesficshere]

Grey

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Synopsis: Steve gets a wake up call from yall's daughter

Contents: talks of aging, kids being kids, references to smut but nothing explicit

Steve groans as his consciousness comes to. Something is hitting his face. Someone. Repeatedly.

Steve squints his bleary eyes open as a hand smacks him in the jaw again. A small smile appears on his face even though his jaw stings from the impact. "Morning," Steve's voice is still thick with sleep as he turns to look into brown eyes barely peeking over the edge of the bed.

A quiet voice repeats back ,"Morning," to Steve before arms reach up over the edge of the bed to try and grasp something. Small hands grab the blanket and tug it off of him slightly as the child attempts to climb up. At two and half, Amelia Joy Harrington can barely see above the edge of her parents' bed, let alone get on it.

Steve hoists Amelia up and sits her on his stomach. Steve winces as Amelia scrambles, a stray foot hitting his thigh precariously close to his crotch. Arms are thrown around his neck in a hug as Amelia lays her head against her dad's chest.

Steve feels like his heart could burst out of his chest from the joy he is feeling. A hug from his baby? The best way to wake up in the morning. Who cares if his jaw is still stinging and probably red, his little girl loves him.

Steve sighs in contentment. Steve holds his daughter close until she starts to fidget and wiggle. Amelia sits up and throws her hands in the air. "Happy Birthday!" She whispers excitedly, except she has no concept of how quiet a whisper should actually be and says it in a much too loud voice.

"What?" Steve asks, hand hovering near Amelia's side in case she slips. Amelia's eyebrows furrow as she pouts at him, a look that is an exact copy of you. Her arms slowly lower as she stares at Steve. "Happy Birthday. You old." Amelia pouts at him.

Steve blinks at Amelia in confusion but nods his head. First off, rude, he isn't that old. Steve isn't sure where she gets her unfiltered, blunt commentary (it absolutely isn't him). Second, it absolutely isn't his birthday. Not even close.

"Why uh...why is it my birthday?" Steve asks, unsure if Amelia fully understands the concept. Not sure if he can explain the idea of a birthday to a two (and a half) year old. "Grey." Amelia declares giving Steve whiplash. Before Steve can speak, Amelia points at the comforter," Blue." Steve smiles," Yes, blue."

Amelia points to her shirt," Green." Steve nods. Amelia taps under Steve's eye, lashes brushing against her finger causing him to close it. Steve hopes she doesn't attempt to actually poke his eye.

"Brown." Amelia declares. "Thats right." Steve grins, his girl is so smart. Amelia points to his temple," Grey." "That's ri- what?! No!" Steve's mouth drops open as Amelia giggles. "Uncle Dustbin says grey is old. Birthday makes old. Happy Birthday!"

The creak of the loose floorboard in the hall notifies Steve of your approach. You peek into the doorway of the room, seeing your two favorite people. One looking aghast and the other giggling at her father's reaction.

"What's going on in here?" You ask, leaning against the doorway. "Grey. Birthday." Amelia announces, like it explains everything. And it does in her little mind.

You hum in response, looking at your husband who seems lost for words. Amelia slides off of Steve and off the bed, Steve guiding her so her feet land on the ground absent-mindedly. He would never let her fall or get hurt. Or you.

Amelia half walks half dances in your direction. A prance in her step, she stops in front of you and grabs your hands. "It's daddy's birthday," She says before headbutting your leg. You chuckle and pat her head as she dances out of the room, in her own little world.

"You lying to my kid again?" You ask once Amelia is gone. Steve sputters as he sits up," I did not- our kid- did not lie." "Uh-huh, sure," you say sarcastically. Steve rolls his eyes at you as he gets up out of bed.

Steve stretches as he rocks on his feet, back cracking, before strolling over to you. "Good morning," Steve mumbles, hand landing on your hip. You hum back as he leans in and kisses you. Soft. Slow. Sweet. Leaving you longing for more as he pulls back.

"Love you," Steve says, fingers running along the waistband of your pants. "I love you too," you want to melt into him. Curl up in his arms and stay in this moment. Let the love and adoration fill the air around you.

"Do I look old?" Steve is the first to break the silence. Your brow furrows in confusion," huh?" "Amelia she," Steve huffs out a laugh," said I have grey hair." You chuckle as you bring a hand up, fingers threading through his hair," You have some but its nice." "Its nice huh?" "Makes you look distinguished. Handsome." You bite your lip and look up at him.

Steve knows that look. Knows it well. It's the look you gave him the first time you moved past just making out. The same look you gave him on your first anniversary. The same look you wore on your wedding night. The same look you gave before Amelia was conceived.

Steve can't help the smirk that spreads across his face. If getting old gives him that look, well, he won't complain.

"What about me?" You ask, batting your lashes. "Beautiful," Steve kisses your cheek," Gorgeous," he kisses the corner of your lips. He continues to alternate between kissing all over your face and praising you.

"My love," Steve whispers before kissing you softly on the lips. You sigh into the kiss, one hand tangling in his hair, the other trying to pull him closer.

A loud crash from the living room has you two pulling back from the sweet moment you stole. "What was that?" You call down the hall. "Nothing!" Amelia yells back, making you sigh but smile. Steve can't help but grin too. His life was a little hectic dealing with a rambunctious child, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. And he thinks, if life is like this, he can manage getting old with you. He wouldn't want it any other way.

[5a-alf]

I fear Kevin Day is the type of person whose struggle always came second. He funcioned enough that while everyone knew he wasn't alright, it was also nobody's problem, as someone else was actively having a harder time and they took precedence. He internalises all his problems and keeps going and going but he is fueled by alchool and sheer desperation a 100% of the time. If he were to stop for even a second he wouldn't know how to start again.

Did he ever, at somepoint in his life -away from the ex foxes, a pro player, married to Thea- wish he had it worse, just so that maybe it would have been his turn being saved? Being first? How badly would he feel, just one second after thinking it, because he knows damn well he has enough trauma to fill a stadium and he isn't actually jealous of his friends that had it worse, he isn't . That's a fucked up thing to think, stop it, stop it.

Would he still drink himself into a stupor to shoote the ache, to banish the thought? That's the help he got, when he was at his worst, a drink, and then two, and then a thousand. And it worked, it made him go, it picked him up when he was down, and now he can't get down without crashing.

Did he wish to be saved? Did he hope somebody, anybody, took the time and put in the effort to help him, just because they saw him down, not because he begged, but because they noticed he could use a hand. Or two, actually. Was it torment, to always be under the spotlight, yet never been seen? Did he run toward fame hoping the more eyes on him meant it would be easier to be noticed?

[brazilian-whalien52]

Scenes that made queer people realize they live in a world full of straights

[mapleandgingeroatmeal]

In the Alfield gnoll mines Nott says “Why are all you big men making these weird speeches to me??” And I still marvel at the fact that that line was rp’d by a guy because god do I ever relate to that sentiment.

[weidli]

do you ever watch a like two minute bit of black and white documentary film about building the grande dixence without music or anything and think Oh god i have to write a minor key ballad about this or are you . Well not normal probably but at least a different kind of strange

[arolesbianism]

Everyday I look at my nuggets and go maybe I should let my gay men get bitches. And then I make more nugget yuri instead

[silverselfshippingchaos]

bro has nothing in his fridge but alcohol, an apple, and takeout... yikes..

[mylove-thresher]

JUMPING UP AND DOWN!!,,,!!,! I DREW!,!,,,!!!!,,

yo cuando mujeres sobrenaturales

[bisaster-energy]

polyamory is real I think hancock invented it or something

[jewishcissiekj]

do you. do you know what happened when Moira was 13. because I do.

[f1owermoon]

was thinking the other day that if i ever do somehow magically manage to get a girlfriend (unlikely scenario lbr but still...) how am i gonna tell everyone. LMFAO

[dodger-chan]

Rough week, stobin daydreaming time.

Steve and Robin taking off to Europe together post canon. Starting with Paris, where Robin gets to kiss a girl on the Eiffel Tower. Steve gets his hands on a camcorder somehow (maybe his dad got one in '83 when they first hit the non-profit market) and instead of postcards they send tapes to Hawkins.

(please ignore how heavy and expensive that would have been compared to postcards, though I think the blank tapes themselves wouldn't have been that pricey by '87)

Each tape is thirty minutes long (technically limitations) and consists of several short scenes of Steve and Robin being silly near some landmark. Usually only one of them is visible, but both are audible in every clip. The party watches the tapes together, and Dustin makes copies for everyone who asks.

And sometimes for two people who don't.

The Harringtons aren't especially interested in their son's inexpert camera work as he tries to keep all of an enthusiastic Robin in frame, but they do know someone who works for a subsidiary of TWA, and is desperate for programming for their new channel.

So when Steve and Robin get back to Hawkins, they have an intriguing job offer.

[angelcakegirl]

ok on like the same topic as before i hate mean ppl that do nothing to help

[thatscarletflycatcher]

I'm trying to articulate a thought: while a moral reading of a text is necessary and I'd say unavoidable, a judgement of a text cannot begin and end in its value as a didactic piece for teaching morality to the reader (or reinforcing their sense of moral selves).

This doesn't mean people should read books that make apology of things the person finds morally or psychologically repulsive, just because there's some artistic value in them anyways.

But I have seen people for whom reading (and engaging with media in general) becomes a moral race in which their enjoyment of literature must be thoroughly justified by the -often only superficially ascertained- moral value of the themes and lessons of the text, and for whom the things they read are a letter of presentation of the moral principles they spouse.

In other words, instead of the moral principles of the person delineating the framework through which they approach the text, it is a checklist of things the text must explicitly contain in order to be seen as having any worth at all.

Which is a rather sad and superficial way to engage with things.