#regardless of what you celebrate
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colourful-void · 1 month ago
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oh and i shalt mention again for all the new mutuals n such ive made over the past year!
as december approaches ill probably start posting more about christmas in a general manner! and as in years before, i will be tagging every one of these posts as '#christmas' so that anyone who doesn't wanna see it can just filter that out!
i only do this for christmas due to just how prevalent it is (and how annoying it is for ppl who aren't interested it seeing it this time of year), so i won't be tagging any other holidays.
happy winter!
(mutuals also feel free to drop ur gift boundaries in the comments! do you accept christmas gift art/fic/whatever? holiday gifts? gifts unafflilated with a holiday but just gifts are fun? can't promise anything cuz i might get busy, but i like knowin!)
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kim-cat3120 · 8 months ago
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it just so happens that today, April 13th, a young man is banging out the tunes
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nelkcats · 1 year ago
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Parent's Day
Ghosts didn't have a father's or mother's day as such, but they did have a day where they combined both. A day to celebrate your guardians. Humans, Yetis, Amazons or Gods, it was a quiet day to thank them for your ghost adoption.
Dan and Ellie had spent a few years under the halfa's care but at the end of the day they considered him their guardian (although Dan did it reluctantly), so when they heard about Parent's Day they panicked.
They wanted to show Danny that they really appreciated him but a mug or coupons were not enough. In the end after some brainstorming they decided to give him the closest thing to a mug that was in the Realms: Constantine's complete soul.
John Contantine was a very annoying human, they knew this because they heard Danny complain about his paperwork many times. Apparently their father had 99% of his soul but couldn't do anything until he had 100%, and what better gift than to help him get rid of the paperwork? He hated paperwork! It was perfect!
With some help from Clockwork they traveled to DC's dimension, determined to take the last of the hellblazer's soul. Dan wondered if he should steal a star from the dimension while they were there (Danny liked space didn't he?), as an extra gift.
John Constantine was in the middle of explaining the holes in reality to the Justice League when a shiver ran through his body. He had an instant bad feeling.
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wigglebox · 1 year ago
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Merry Christmas! 🎄✨💙💚
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jacobglaser · 11 months ago
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Also, I don't care if you hate the show or whatever, don't be a fucking cunt about it. Already seeing some embarrassing shit.
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torchickentacos · 5 months ago
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i will always shout praises of bi4bi but given recent discourse I feel the need to say that I love bi4het too! I just love bisexuality in general in its many forms, and anyone who only likes it when it's 'queer enough' for them is biphobic. Bisexuals should be able to bring their LaMe CiShEt BoYfRiEnD to pride without being made to feel like spectators and outsiders to their own event.
#3 am queer discourse take <3#anyways hot take number two. cishets do belong at pride. everyone who wants to celebrate queerness should be welcomed at pride#if a completely cishet business major fratboy wants to come to pride and vibe with us then he should be welcomed!#not even like. oh he has a queer sibling. no. if he's just a cishet dude who wants to spend his saturday at a parade then hell yeah#like completely ignoring that you have no way to tell he's definitively those things. it shouldn't matter regardless imo#pride is not a secretive club you need to be let into. it's a feeling and a celebration and a statement and a state of being#and whatever you want it to be#burying my other related hot take under the tags readmore ksdjksdjksdj#idk. i'm just tired of a lot of the things people seem to think about bisexuality's validity relating to bi women specifically#this is frustration with the gatekeepy and straight-passing discourse of it all#I'm tired of people being expected to act and to preform and to BE queer enough for others' opinions.#am I still welcome if I haven't been with a woman in a few years? if I dress boring? if I like m/f? if I don't listen to chappell roan?#joking on that last one but like. idk. never straight enough for the straights but never gay enough for the gays#constantly some mercurial in-between that offers no comfortable easy group to put us in.#what do i have to do to not be judged as a filthy hettie? are my doc martens enough for you yet?#like oh sorry let me cuff my jeans and have a bob and wear a button up over a cami and wear etsy earrings. am I visually bi enough yet?#let me apologize for the cardinal sin of liking men too. let me wash my hands of any time a cishet man has held them.#if it was a bisexual man then just hand sanitizer is fine right? where do you draw the line on my queerness?#let me preform for you in a way that makes me queer enough.#anyways. sarcasm aside. I think I've made my distaste for this whole affair evident#if you don't want cishets at pride then what happens to those you incorrectly deem as cishet? do I need to prove myself to you?#am I passing as straight? am I passing as gay? am I enough for onlookers?#is it not enough to just show up at pride and celebrate? anyone and everyone who wants to?
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wososcripts · 1 year ago
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I've Been Getting Lost In Translation (Part One)
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Stina Blackstenius x Reader
Summary: You finally get to meet your girlfriend’s parents, but you aren’t sure they’re aware the two of you are more than just friends.
Word count: (nearly) 5.5k
A/N: Okay so we’re all gonna have to expand our minds and suspend disbelief for this one, especially if you speak Swedish (I do not lol). This idea was originally formulated in German, and then altered - so cut a bit of slack for the author <3 As usual nothing I write is meant to represent or speculate about players’ personal lives in any way, it’s just for a bit of fun.
For context, in Swedish the word for girlfriend is flickvän, or väninna but the latter is a bit outdated and used by older people (according to google, and my one Swedish friend) while friend is just vän. However väninna is also used to refer to a "female friend" not just a romantic partner.
Also, everything written like this in italics is spoken in a language other than English (just not written as such to avoid too many translations)
Warnings ⚠️: none, a bit suggestive in some parts.
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“Söt, it’s time to wake up, we have to be at the airport by ten.” You were awoken by your girlfriend’s soft voice in your ear.
You groaned, wrapping your arms around her and burrowing closely into her chest, ignoring her protests.
“What time is it?” You complained, noticing it wasn’t even light outside.
“Nearly seven.”
You pulled her closer, making your displeasure known.
“Nearly seven? Stina, how long do you think it takes to get to the airport?”
You felt her plant a kiss on your head.
“With you? There’s no telling how long.” She indulged your drowsiness for a moment, rubbing your back softly and pressing her cheek to your hair.
Stina was always more of a morning person than you were, and she was certainly more used to getting up while it was pitch black than you ever wanted to be.
“Okay, I’m getting up now.” She announced, peeling your arms off of her and rolling away from you.
You opened your eyes to get a look at her barely illuminated silhouette, messy hair and strong shoulders stretching before she got up to face the day. Her night shirt hid the muscles that you knew rested beneath, as well as the nail marks you had left a few nights ago that she had scolded you over. Well, if she didn’t want them she shouldn’t fuck you so well, (apparently not a good enough excuse in her book).
You resigned yourself to the fact that there was no going back to sleep and sat up yourself. You checked your phone, making sure you had your boarding passes ready and that the flight was leaving with no delays. The two of you were lucky with the weather this year, and you hoped it would continue. Flying back in a snowstorm wasn’t something you wanted to deal with.
“Are you up?” You heard Stina call from the bathroom.
“Yes, Stina!” You replied, swinging your feet to the floor and grimacing at the cold wood beneath them.
Stina laughed at your unhappy face as you cringed at the light of the bathroom. She brought a hand up to pat your cheek affectionately. You gave her a sarcastic smile and began brushing your teeth.
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It didn’t take all that long to get ready, double check your bags, and get dressed. Certainly not get-up-before-seven long.
You watched Stina braid her hair from where you were perched on the counter, admiring the concentrated look on her face. Tea was brewing in the kitchen and you had already cut up some fruit for breakfast.
“What are you staring at me for?” Stina teased, pulling a hair tie from her lips to finish her braid.
“I’m looking at you because you’re beautiful.”
Stina shot you a look, already catching on to what you were doing. But the blush still rose on her neck all the same.
“We don’t have time for that, älskling,” she said, though you knew she didn’t have much resolve where you were concerned.
You made a point to check your phone.
“Since you made sure we were up early, it’s only 7:30.” You shot her your best smile, tugging slightly on her shirt.
She moved towards you with little resistance, only an exasperated face for show. But she had no problem following you into a kiss, her hand resting on your jaw and your legs around her waist. Her warmth surrounded you, encasing you like a blanket. You almost forgot there was anything to do today at all other than kiss her.
You could tell Stina was getting turned on by how her hand slipped under your sweater and pushed your undershirt out of the way so she could press against your bare skin. Once she threaded her fingers into your hair and lifted your head so she could move to your neck you knew it was over.
“Are you sure we’ve got time?” You mumbled, putting a hand softly on her chest.
“Don’t start what you can’t finish,” she replied, lifting you up off the counter with ease.
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“Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck…” you cursed, downing the last bit of your tea and pulling a brush through your tangled hair.
“Stina!” you called out into the other room where your girlfriend was getting (re)dressed. “Katie is waiting outside!”
You heard the distinct sound of your girlfriend swearing in Swedish and couldn’t help but let out a laugh in disbelief. You shot Katie a quick text that you’d be right out—thanking her again for coming to pick the two of you up. She was flying out later in the afternoon for Ireland, and had suggested carpooling to the airport. Any opportunity to skip the price of parking at Heathrow was a good enough reason for you.
Stina came into the kitchen with her bag in hand, looking frazzled.
“Remind me never to listen to you again.” She grumbled.
“You can’t help it,” you said smugly, handing her a mug of coffee and a wrapped bagel for the car. “Look, I even made you breakfast.”
Stina continued to mumble her complaints as she handed you your jacket and put her own on. You chuckled along, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
Katie was on her phone mindlessly as you knocked on the window, making her jump in her seat.
“Fuck, was that necessary?”
You shot her a grin, reaching in the now rolled-down window to unlock the door.
“Good morning to you too, Katie.”
“Sure looks like you’ve had a good morning to me.” Katie laughed, noting the slight warmth to your face. “Stina’s never late.”
As if on cue, your girlfriend appeared outside. Katie greeted her kindly as she put the suitcase in the trunk and settled in the backseat. No mention of your morning shenanigans came out of Katie’s mouth sparing the embarrassment you both know would ensue.
Stina was private. Very private. Of course, once she let someone in, there were few things she found necessary to hide. But for most of the world she preferred to keep a low profile. That meant no social media posts, no PDA, and only a few people on the team were privy to the fact that you two were together. You didn’t really mind it, especially since it seemed like everyone Stina cared about knew. You didn’t think she was trying to hide you—or, at least, no more than she tried to hide the rest of her personal life from prying eyes.
The car ride was mostly quiet, Katie had her Spotify connected and the three of you chatted sparingly over it. She was going back to visit her family for the first time since her nephew had been born, something she was over the moon about. Though it wasn’t a particularly long break—just over two weeks—you were going to miss her and her infectious energy. Even Stina, reserved and introverted, was a bit more gregarious when Katie was around. Everyone joked easier with Katie in the room.
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Stina hopped out of the car the second the three of you pulled into the lot at Heathrow. You were running a bit late, nothing worrisome, but you needed to get a move on to ensure that you would get on this plane.
“It’ll be fine,” Katie assured you, putting a hand on your shoulder.
She knew you were a bit nervous to be meeting Stina’s parents for the first time. You’d been doing a lot to try and prepare, studying Swedish to try and impress them (and tell if they were talking about you when they thought you weren’t listening), fussing over the gifts you brought, the clothes you picked out. You hadn’t told Stina because it was silly, you knew. Her parents were lovely, they had to be if they had raised someone like Stina. But still, you were a bit stressed about it.
“They’re gonna love you. There’s no way. You treat Stina like she fell from the sky, you’re smart, you’re kind, you have a wicked left foot, what else could they want?” Katie squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. “Just don’t mention you’ve never been to IKEA, that might get you kicked out.”
You gave her a small smile, a bit too nervous to joke back. And you hardly had time to, because by then Stina had gotten the bags and was waiting. You pushed open your door and took one of the bags from her, shooting her a smile. She seemed to know you and Katie had been talking about something sensitive because her eyes searched you with a bit of concern and she laced your fingers together.
Once Katie had paid for parking the three of you were off, ready to embark on your afternoon of traveling.
You weren’t a big fan of planes, but thankfully you managed to sleep almost the entire flight to Stockholm. It helped that you were able to lay your head in Stina’s lap, never more thankful for the size of business class seats and the salary that allowed you to afford it. She played with your hair gently, knowing it was a guaranteed way to relax you.
You came to as the flight attendant announced you’d soon be landing in Sweden.
“Sorry I left you alone for most of that,” you apologized, sitting back up in your seat.
Stina waved you off, giving your hand a squeeze. You suddenly felt quite nervous about this whole ordeal. You were really going to meet Stina’s parents in about an hour. This was a big step, you knew it. What if they didn’t like you? What if they thought you weren’t good for Stina? Was there something about you you could improve so they’d accept you more? What if you just didn’t fit in, plain and simple. You knew that it was mostly your anxiety talking, but it was difficult to quiet the questions in your head.
“Söt,” Stina nudged you, pulling you out of your reverie, “What are you thinking about?”
You shrugged, fiddling with the hem of your crewneck. Stina stilled your hands, her eyes boring into the side of your head until you met her gaze.
“I’m just a bit nervous, that’s all.”
“To meet my family?”
You nodded.
Stina smiled softly, rubbing the back of your hand.
“You don’t need to be. They know how happy you make me, and that’s what matters. You’ve made London feel like home. And besides,” she turned to whisper in your ear, “I like you enough for them all.” She pressed a quick kiss beneath your ear, pulling away before anyone’s eyes could linger on the two of you.
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Getting off the plane and through security was fairly easy, and before you knew it you were waiting in the arrivals hall for Stina’s parents. Your heart was beating out of your chest, your palms sweatier than normal. Stina was beaming, her head swiveling as she looked around for her family.
Finally, she spotted them.
You hadn’t seen them outside of photos, but immediately you could see the resemblance between them and their daughter. They were tall, much taller than you, and dressed warmly in heavy coats and scarves.
“Mamma!” Stina called, waving her hand to call them over.
Their faces broke into wide smiles at the sight of their daughter, something that made you miss your own family a bit. Maybe next year you could convince Stina to come to Germany for the holidays.
“Stina!” The two of them wrapped her in a big hug, squeezing her tightly.
Once she was given the chance to breathe, Stina pulled back and ushered you forward, introducing you.
“We’ve heard lots about you,” her father said, shaking your hand firmly.
“All good things, I hope,” you joked lightly, still trying to get over your nerves.
“Of course.” Stina whispered as her mother shook your hand too, the both of them giving you polite smiles. Usually Stina would put a hand on your back to reassure you, but it stayed firmly by her side as you did your best to fight down your anxiety.
“Okay, let’s get out of here! Traffic is horrible!”
Conversation in the car quickly dissolved into Swedish, spoken faster than you had ever heard it before. Amanda and Lina certainly didn’t speak with each other this quickly—did they? You did your best to reply to the questions you caught directed at you, and keep up with the rest of the conversation. Words flung around your head as you tried to make sense of them in time for the next.
“Is it too much?” Stina asked quietly, leaning over to whisper it to you, “I told them you had been learning Swedish.” You shook your head, giving her a quick smile.
The house Stina’s parents lived in was about an hour and a half from the airport, outside of Stockholm. It looked like something out of a children’s christmas book: snow blanketing the roof, warm light streaming through the windows, a few strings of lights decorating the railing along the porch.
You were introduced to the rest of the family staying for Christmas: Stina’s half-sister, her brother and his wife, their little boy, Stina’s aunt, and her grandfather who mostly sat on the couch and watched ice hockey. It was a bit overwhelming, but in a pleasant way. Everyone seemed kind, and perfectly welcoming to you, which slowly made your nerves settle. By dinner you felt almost comfortable chatting with her brother about how Eintracht Frankfurt’s season was going (after finding out he was a fan) and listening to the tales of her father’s trips to Germany for work when he was younger. It wasn’t ideal that Stina was seated across from you, and the fact that you two had barely talked all evening, but you chalked it up to her enjoying getting to be with family. Hell, she saw you practically every day.
Once you were all finished with dinner and dessert (a wonderful small chocolate cake that melted when you cut into it) you helped to clear the dishes and wipe the table with Stina’s mother and aunt. Stina had been whisked away by her father so he could show her something new he’d built for the basement, and you were left with a mouthed “sorry” and a sympathetic glance.
You didn’t mind much though, the quiet monotonous task was actually quite soothing after the intensity of the day. You weren’t even really listening to the conversation between Stina’s mother and aunt in the other room where they were cleaning, too focused on your own thoughts until you heard your name.
"Jag är glad att Stina verkar ha hittat någon som är bra nog för henne"
"Ingen är bra nog för min tjej," Stina’s mother joked, "Men ja, hennes väninna är söt. Lite tyst kanske."
"Det är svårt att träffa föräldrarna, släpp henne lite"
You didn’t catch all of the conversation, or even much of it if you were honest. They continued chatting, your name and the word väninna popping up intermittently. You wracked your brain to try and remember what the word was, you’d definitely heard it before, but couldn’t for the life of you remember where.
So you pulled out your phone and sent a text to Amanda asking her what it meant. You probably should’ve been able to understand more, but a headache was beginning to brew behind your eyes and you were well and truly exhausted. It was fairly early, but you were hoping you would be able to excuse yourself from after dinner nightcaps. With a night’s sleep you would feel better.
Your phone dinged, a message from Amanda already lighting up your screen. You wiped your wet hands on a towel and quickly unlocked it, frustrated that you couldn’t remember yourself what it meant.
“Lol It’s like a female friend, not many people use it anymore” The message read. Amanda began typing again. “I hope you’re enjoying Sweden❄️ Merry Christmas!”
Your heart sank a bit. You were confused. Why would Stina’s family be referring to you as her “female friend”? Was this the fifties? You sent a thank you message back to Amanda and assured her that you were enjoying yourself.
You finished up the dishes, unable to stop thinking about the conversation you had overheard. Maybe you had misheard? But then again, the word had come up multiple times. Maybe Stina’s family misunderstood her and thought the two of you weren’t dating? Maybe she hadn’t told them?
The last thought surprised you. You couldn’t think of a good reason why Stina wouldn’t tell her parents the two of you were together, not after almost a year together. Why invite you to Sweden in the first place if not because she was ready for the next step? You thought things were pretty serious.
“Hi älskling,” Stina came up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist.
You leaned back into her embrace, having missed the contact. It helped soothe your racing thoughts a little, having her this close.
“Hey,” you replied, twisting to place a quick kiss on her jaw.
“If you keep doing the dishes I’m not sure my mom will let you leave.”
You chuckled, the sound catching in your throat unexpectedly, sending you into a coughing fit. Stina rubbed your back, grabbing a cup to fill with water from the tap.
“Are you feeling okay?” She asked, stroking your face softly, “You look a little run down.”
“I’m just tired…” you explained, “and I can feel a headache coming.”
It wasn’t a lie. Maybe not the whole truth, but part of it. Your confusion still weighed on your mind.
“It’s been a long day.” Stina agreed. “I think I’ll join you for an early night.”
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You tried to hide your surprise as Stina’s parents opened the door to the room you’d be staying in.
Two twin beds.
“This used to be Stina and Linnea’s room when they were little.” Her father explained, showing you the pictures of the two of them as young girls that hung on the wall. You smiled at the image of a ten year old Stina in her handball kit. Next to it was a photo of her lounging at the beach, probably seven or eight.
“I thought we were getting Nils’ room?” you heard Stina whisper to her mom.
“And this is Stina’s first football trophy.” Her father continued, showing you the small gold statue that rested atop the dresser. “I said that day, I knew she would be on the Swedish team one day!”
“You did not, Papa. You wanted me to go out for basketball.”
“Well you were so tall—”
You tuned out the rest of their playful bickering, deciding to take a seat on one of the beds and take a look at the room around you. It was kind of sweet, being in Stina’s old room. It was like seeing a different side of her. Old posters still adorned the walls, messy handwriting still littered sticky notes on the desk.
“Well, we’ll see the two of you tomorrow. Sleep well.”
And with that the two of you were alone. You pulled your backpack over to the edge of the bed and found the ibu that you had brought with you, popping one in your mouth and swallowing it dry. You felt the bed beside you sink and a hand run gently through your hair, soothing the pulsing of your temples.
“Come here,” Stina motioned, pulling you into her so you could rest in her lap. “Is it bad?”
You shook your head.
“It’ll be fine in a moment, it’s just been a long day.”
You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat there, her stroking your hair, you listening to the sound of her heartbeat mixed with the noises of her family celebrating outside. The thoughts in your head trickled through every now and then, but Stina did a good job of beating them back just by being there. She loved you, she loved you, she loved you. You clung to those words.
Eventually you both had to get up and get ready for bed. There was an adjoining bathroom that the two of you had to yourself, thankfully, which made everything much easier. You didn’t have to leave the little bubble you’d created for the two of you.
Then there was the problem of the beds. There was no way in hell you were going to sleep on the other side of the room from your girlfriend as a grown woman. Stina suggested pushing them together, which you did with a bit of struggle. It worked well enough, as long as nobody rolled into the middle. Essentially it was still sleeping in two beds, but it was the best you could do.
“Good night,” you mumbled, trying to get comfortable in the small bed. You reached a hand out for Stina’s, managing to find her fingers so you could lace them together.
“Good night, jag älskar dig.”
“Love you too, Stina.”
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The next morning you awoke to the smell of coffee and the sound of the news playing in the other room. Your headache was gone—a small miracle—and your girlfriend’s back was visible next to you along with a mess of her blonde hair on the pillow. You rolled over to see what time it was, seeing that it was barely eight o’clock.
You quietly got out of bed, hoping to let Stina sleep a little longer. You usually didn’t get more than nine or ten hours maximum, but you knew Stina could sleep from 8pm to 9am easily if nobody was there to interrupt her.
You brushed your teeth and used the bathroom, enjoying a bit of peace with your thoughts before you faced the day. Katie had sent you a message, a photo of her with her nephew on her lap. She looked ridiculously happy, the smile on her face threatening to eclipse the rest of it. “You’ve gone soft, McCabe,” you wrote to her, smiling down at your phone as well.
Stina was still sleeping when you snuck out of the room, having changed into more appropriate clothes to face her family in.
“God morgon,” Stina’s mother greeted you as you walked out into the kitchen.
You wished her the same, settling down in one of the chairs at the island.
“Would you like some coffee? Tea?”
“Coffee, please.”
A mug of black coffee and a carton of milk were placed before you, along with the promise of oatmeal in fifteen minutes or so.
“Is Stina still asleep?”
You nodded.
“She’ll probably be up soon, it’s 8:30 already.”
“Here she is,” Stina spoke, rubbing sleep out of her eyes as she walked into the kitchen.
She kissed her mother on the head and settled into the chair next to you, shooting you a smile as she poured her own coffee. You internally frowned: usually, Stina always gave you a kiss to greet you in the mornings, whether it was at your place or hers. You tried to tell yourself you were overthinking things, but already you could feel the weight in your stomach returning.
“Did you sleep well?” Stina’s mother asked.
You nodded politely, deciding not to comment on the fact that your room had two twin beds. Do you know I’m dating your daughter? As in, we’re romantically involved? As in, we sleep together like grown adults? You imagined yourself saying, but you kept your lips closed.
Slowly the rest of the Blackstenius family trickled in, minus Stina’s brother who was staying with his family at home in Stockholm and would be joining them later in the day. You all gathered around the dining table where a large pot of oatmeal sat, fresh fruit, cinnamon, and sugar adorning the space around it. You sat next to Stina at the end of the table, accepting her offer to serve your breakfast for you.
“This is delicious,” you complimented.
The table was soon full of light chatter in a mixture of Swedish and English. You made light conversation with her sister about her studies, and her decision between going straight to pro or attending school first. You’d done the latter, wanting something to fall back on in case you were injured. But getting your degree while playing had been a difficult task, you warned.
You placed your hand lightly on top of Stina’s where it rested on the table, hoping just to get a bit of reassurance for yourself. But perhaps it was the wrong move, because Stina quickly pulled her hand away, offering her father the bowl of cut apples in front of her for his porridge.
You pulled your hand back into your lap, feeling ashamed and embarrassed. Was Stina so worried about what her parents might think that she couldn’t even touch you for more than a few seconds at a time in front of them. You did your best to continue your conversation with Linnea, ignoring the lump in your throat that was forming. Each time you tried to tell yourself you were overreacting, the voice in your head got less and less convincing.
You didn’t meet Stina’s eyes for the rest of the meal, nor did you try to talk to her. There was a bit of you that was angry and indignant. Why would she treat you like this? You knew you didn’t have the full story, and you wouldn’t until you asked her, but it didn’t feel good on the surface. You just counted the minutes until breakfast would be over and perhaps you could have a second to yourself to calm down. Otherwise you weren’t sure how you would cope.
Your chance came not that long after, as Stina offered to help clean up after breakfast with her mother while you got ready. The eight of you were supposed to go ice skating before it got dark, which meant you should leave by 10:30 for the rink.
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You locked the bathroom door behind you and took a deep breath in through your nose and out of your mouth. You knew you were already on the verge of tears. Your head was getting the better of you, and there was only one person (other than Stina) you wanted to talk to right now.
“Hallo?” Laura’s voice came through the phone.
“Hey, Laura.”
“Was ist los?” She replied, immediately sensing your tone over the phone.
You and Laura had known each other for years, having played for the same club and German national teams since you were barely out of high school. There wasn’t much you could hide from her, especially not when she could hear your voice.
“Ich bin in Schweden, zu Stina’s.” You continued in German, not wanting anyone to be able to listen in on you. Even Stina would have a hard time understanding once you spoke quickly.
“Is everything okay? Did something bad happen?” Laura asked you. “Can we switch to video? So I can see your face.”
You switched on your camera, allowing Laura to see your teary-eyed face. You were sure you looked pathetic, especially over such a small thing.
“What happened? Did Stina do something?”
“No, of course not.” You defended your girlfriend, even though you weren’t completely sure it was true. Had she really not told her parents the two of you were together? Was she hiding it, trying to slowly introduce you as a friend first until they got used to you? You just couldn’t make sense of it.
“Then what’s wrong? And don’t try to say it’s nothing, or it’s little, because if it’s making you cry clearly it’s worth talking about.”
Laura always seemed to know the right thing to say. She was fiercely protective over you, no matter the situation. She reminded you of Katie in that way.
“You know Stina is private… and that we haven’t told many people we’re together on the team.” You heard Laura’s grunt of approval, “Well I got here, and it just seems like she hasn’t told her parents we’re together. I would’ve thought since we’re in her parents home she would be a bit more affectionate, like she is at our apartment or when we’re around Katie or Amanda, but we’ve hardly touched the entire day.” You took a pause. “I know it probably sounds silly—”
“Nope, hush with that. It doesn’t, keep going.”
“Well, you know I’ve been learning Swedish for a few months with Amanda’s help and obviously I’m not great yet, but I’ve been practicing so I could try and understand more while I was here… I’m not positive but I think when they talk about me they call me Stina’s friend. I don’t know if I’m being paranoid, I probably am, but combined with how Stina’s acting…I just don’t know what to think.”
By this point your breathing was uneven, the emotion you’d been trying to clamp down spilling over. Tears leaked out of your eyes and you swiped at them roughly. Your breath came in shallow bursts, unable to fully fill up your lungs. You just didn’t want to fuck this up. And now you were left questioning where you even stood with Stina—you were okay with some privacy, but not with this. Your parents knew about her, she had met most of your friends, even those in Germany over FaceTime since you couldn’t physically be together. Did you occupy the same place in her life that she did in yours?
“I need you to take a deep breath for me.” Laura said, her voice calm. You tried to follow her directions. “You need to ask her, be up front about it. Otherwise you’re going to drive yourself crazy the whole time you’re there, trying to analyze everything. Just ask. And if she hasn’t told them… then figure out why. Maybe there’s more to it than you think.”
You nodded, still trying to breathe. You got in the bathtub, as you often did when this happened as a teenager, and kept Laura on the line.
“Can you just talk about something for a little while? Anything really. I’m sorry to interrupt your break but—”
“Don’t worry about that. Of course I will.”
So you laid there in the tub as Laura went on about the new coaching staff at Frankfurt, about the train problems that had made her three hours late to her parents’ house yesterday, about her photo book that had just come out and how it was doing. Not long after you felt yourself drifting off, heart beating normally and your tears mostly dry. Laura didn’t let you off the line until you had promised that you would keep her updated, and let her know if she needed to come and rescue you and “take you back home with her”.
The universe’s timing seemed to be on your side, because only a few minutes after you had reapplied a bit of foundation around your eyes and washed your face, Stina knocked at the door.
“We’re going to head out in fifteen minutes, could I get in there?”
You opened the door and gave your girlfriend a smile, beckoning her in as you stepped out. You didn’t quite trust your voice yet, so you stayed silent.
“Is everything okay?” Stina asked, cocking her head sweetly.
You knew if you said anything you’d start crying all over again—and you hated yourself for it. So you just nodded, smiling again before slipping back out into the bedroom. There you threw on a nicer outfit and steeled yourself for the next few hours to come. Everything would be fine, no matter what. You had dealt with worse—more heartbreaking things, more disappointing things, you’d had your heart broken before and you had survived. You’d endured pain worse than anything that could happen in the next few hours.
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rainbow-demon503 · 2 months ago
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my process thusly
witness the ghost craze after the game comes out and recognise that masked men are hot.
what the hell, I'll check out his r34 tag
huh this is some nice art
huh he gets shipped mainly with soap it seems? I like the dynamic I'm seeing
Oh wow this one comic is actually kinda sad and not really that pornographic at all
oh wow there's a few of these that are actually really touching
ok what the hell I'll check it out on Tumblr (at this point I haven't even looked at the game on steam. and probably never will buy or play it)
wait hold on soap DIES???
oh no I'm invested in the tragedy of it all now
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ilostyou · 2 years ago
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let me make something very clear: it’s weird and strange and invasive to speculate about anyone’s sexuality unless it’s your own. hope this helps
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starleska · 1 year ago
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it's TIME!!!!
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE 🎅🎄🤶⛄
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shalom-iamcominghome · 8 months ago
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Me: I am interested in judaism ONLY. Show me content about jewish life, intellectualism, history, and daily life
The Algorithm, apparently: does this mean you're interested in mormonism... how about jehova's witness............... this is all you'll get recommended by the way
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painted-bees · 11 months ago
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reading through your hinote tags it was interesting to learn that Raf still likes preforming and even misses playing large shows, but avoids getting sucked back into it. As an adult, you'd think he could just return to preforming on his own terms and play any stage he wants. Does a fear of success keeps him away from it? Sorry if this was already explained somewhere and I missed it.
Sssorta haha! He doesn't want to gain too much traction and attract media attention, because it'll inevitably liken his current career/his current self to his past...And almost none of the things he had said about himself, very few of the views he presented in interviews and such, none of it was really him, what he believed, what he liked, or how he, himself, wanted to be perceived. He likes playing the character on stage, but hates the notion of that character following him and being projected onto him in day to day life. On one hand, he doesn't want random people to see him and know him accurately--which is why the stage persona is so great. But on the other hand, the media personality his mother curated is too far removed from his own tastes and sensibilities, that it feels like an ill-fitting skin and makes him physically uncomfortable to be identified as and associated with it. Increased visibility as a performer would kinda force him to contend with that in a way he really would rather not. It's not worth it for him. AND he does not want to attract his family's attention. He doesn't want them contacting him about his career. He wants to be as tiny and invisible to them as possible.
Secondly, and more acutely, though--his symptoms after a show--any show--really suck. He gets nervous leading up to a performance, but it's usually perfectly manageable. He's normally in relatively good spirits about it. Then on stage, he gets a nice little thrill and the feeling of "man, yeah! I need to let myself do this more often!" But then, once the show is over, he's in the backstage bathroom vomiting, and spends the next week struggling to recover from a depressed hangover with 0 motivation, energy, or excitement for anything. He hasn't...figured out how to avoid this extremely consistent pattern. It's weird, because he feels fine during the performance, even if there's a break in between or some such. But as soon as it's properly over, the nerves hit him hard--and once the anxiety passes, he's just an exhausted, deflated, apathetic husk with a very, very low mood about it. That's what kinda keeps him off the stage, and prevents him from doing shows on any kind of consistent basis. He can only really commit to doing them if he's feeling really good about things--and if he can afford the inevitable "crash" week that always follows. If that were less of an ailment for him, he might be more inclined to at least humor the idea of reinventing his persona and returning to musical performance on a more serious/professional/consistent basis. Alas.
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felignis · 2 months ago
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i think chappell roan enforcing her boundaries to creepo parasocial fans is so fucking awesome and based and she should be allowed to do whatever she wants forever
#seriously i never see artists (regardless of what type of art) enforcing these boundaries and making people listen#also ive just become aware people are mad at her for not getting involved in political stuff???#hey i think perhaps people should form their own opinions and not base their life choices on what a celebrity they dont even know says?#its not like celebrities are your trusted royal advisors man go think about it yourself.#i was going to say “if taylor swift told you to vote for a specific person would you listen” but thats a bad example isnt it#i think swifties just do whatever she says man#i think a lot of people really need to perhaps consider looking into what THEY THEMSELVES think of political candidates#and form their OWN opinions through research if theyre not sure on who to vote for#and not just immediately look to a random celebrity or public figure for what to do#has anybody considered like this isnt celebrities' business????#youre not at fucking daycare or highschool its not their responsibility to show you how to use critical thinking or form opinions#these arent your family members. these arent your friends. theyre just people a lot of people know about.#seriously man...i plan on attaining some fame from my projects eventually. its not gonna be my job to do that anymore than any other artist#my job is to draw furries not kiss the fans and tell them what to think. thats not my business.#even if i disagree with someone's views its still not my business my business is drawing furries.#theres a difference between using your platform to talk about issues and literally fucking telling people how to vote.#basing all your life choices on what celebrities think is gonna get you in a deep fuckin hole and do you no good. look at things 4 yourself#Sorry im kind of ranting here. am i sorry actually? no i think this needs to be said and im sayign it#and im not basing that on what popular figures think either! im basing that on what i think! which is what more people should do!#why dont we look at this from the perspective of like...streamers instead. cause people are weird towards streamers too#if i were to go up to a streamer or youtuber and ask them who to vote for#if i went up to fucking markiplier or vinny vinesauce and asked one of them who to vote for you'd all think i was deranged.#celebrities can also be wrong about shit!!! or be shit people!!! this is not me attacking anyone here!!#please consider the fact they are literally just people and theyre not some all seeing omnipotent god figures#you could go and ask nicki minaj who to vote for. or doja cat. you could just as well go and ask your boss who to vote for. or a neighbor!#and either way you dont need to base your life choices based on what that person says!#you still need to think for yourself!#but i think if youre gonna ask someone who to vote for it should be someone you know personally. not a pop star. not a gamer. not an artist#if youre gonna base your opinions on that of other people base it on the opinions of people you trust. people who know you.#people who are really there for you.
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ratbastarddotfuck · 21 days ago
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am I wrong? genuinely, I'm asking. would it not come off extremely condescending?
#she blocked me after saying that it wouldn't be talking down to because POC are my peers and it's like...#that's not how talking down to someone works?#yes they ARE my peers. so are the white people I'm explicitly talking down to#they are my peers and thus i respect that they have a lot more experience and knowledge than i do about this topic#and i decide not to condescend to them about it or slap them on the wrist for saying something i think is in poor taste#like idk man#I'm trying to talk to people who might actually listen to me rather than people who have no reason to#is that so bad?#like i was literally talking to a mixed guy about this and he was like#yeah i do mostly agree with you in reality but it's hard to not bask in a little shaudenfreude when it happens#and i was like yeah i think that's whatever and you should feel however you feel but perhaps the basking should be kept private#like... idk we're all human we all have shitty emotional responses sometimes and need to vent sometimes.#sometimes you do say something off colour to your friends when youre pissed off and hurting#but i DON'T think we should be encouraging this behaviour publicly. because it emboldens people#you say your shitty things in private to your friends who get it or you keep them in your mind and then you get up and try to help people#regardless of if theyre shitheads or not you should be feeling compassion and you should be offering them your hand#THAT'S what i have to say to POC who have been venting like this.#what do i have to say to white people who are venting in this way? shut the fuck up and go do some work.#stop self victimising and celebrating racist violence against people you see as your enemy#grow up#there IS a difference between lateral violence and punching down and that difference matters in the discussion of how to stop it.#the system speaks
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iiusia · 3 months ago
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yeah guys a mass wave of explosions from electronic devices that killed 14 people and injured thousands is soooo funny. yeah. laugh it up. it's hilarious.
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lovelyrotter · 7 months ago
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yknow i love transmasc/tboy dirk always and forever but the way some ppl treat transmascness vs transfemmeness in HS's narrative........kinda sucks. like the whole thing about how being transfeminine is a literal transient experience and lets the character in question (any character) truly escape the oppression of HS's narrative-as-a-character which is patriarchal and toxic (lord english, hussie-the-character to an extent. i guess. idk ive seen a lotta ppl lump SI-hussie in w/ this), which is great and does hold weight as an analytical lens esp with how hussie irl is nonbinary. but where does this leave transmasc characters. why are we treating (headcanoned) transfemme HS characters like this and then tbh gleefully dooming (headcanoned) transmasc characters to eternal narrative suffering brought by LE and then mocking them for being ''gross tboys'' full of ''icky testorerone'' so its their fault theyre in this perpetual torment really? because they ''''chose to be a man''''? dunno man its starting to feel bad. especially since some bnf's who are really into this fan theory do actually kinda treat the general idea of transmasculinity like somthing to hold with tongs at arms length away from them. as if its alien or infectous or something and then get really mad when equally dysphoric transmascs do the same with feminity. why are we dooming dirk strider to eternal toxic-masculine suffering and what does that say about how we treat real life transmasc folks both in and outside of the fandom
#my t#basically you arent more or less special or deserving of celebration or joy depending on what pronouns you use#and idk yall gender is such a personal thing and your trans experience def does colour the way you look at the world. it def does mine/ours#and i wish ppl on this site would be more honest about that cause holy hell do some of yall treat eachother like dogshit#PURELY on the basis of identity. you are no better than a TERF if you do this. you ARE a TERF if you do this#but like...........can we all at least TRY not to demonize '''the other side''' here#in quotations because theres no '''other side''' in the trans community we're all just trans in different ways#theres just like. yknow#theres a reason why so many tboys and transmasc folks identify with the striders and dirk especially#and theres a reason why *so many* transmascs felt so much joy abt tboy roxy#so many of our lives pre-transition looked and felt like roxy lalondes. so many of us legit forcefully feminized ourselves#bc the alternative was so fucking scary. as you can probably imagine regardless of what flavour of trans you are#theres also a reason why there are so many transmasc fictives named dirk and dave and idk what to tell these ppl abt that#i remember rlly clearly this affectionate joke like a literal decade ago on this site that was like#daves intro dropped and 1mil tboys named dave materialized into existence#dirks intro dropped and 1mil MORE tboys named dirk materialized into existence#i try rlly rlly hard not to get sour at wlw/nblw focused memes that are like#''i made pepsicola better!!! theyre she/theys now :)'' for example#but its getting increasingly harder to ignore when the same ppl who make these memes treat#fans who prefer m/m *bc they themselves are gay* like shit#or like enjoying m/m because theyre mlm is mysogynistic. which it isnt ffs#that shit gives i am uncomfortable when is not about me and i aint here for that#if i were like these ppl maybe id turn all their fave girls into tboys just to spite them#but it wont be just to spite them bc 1) i aint abt that actually. im too fuckin grown for it and 2)#i genuinely just enjoy exploring m/m and masculinity more because i am a trans mlm. its very simple math
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