#when i was 13 and in the school bathroom they asked me if i’d had a cup of tea

[secretagentsagainstwhatever]

TW suicide

my biggest conspiracy theory is that suicide helpline/crisis lines are purposely obtuse / useless, so that you’re so baffled by their advice that you forget that you wanted to die in the first place

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Secret |1|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You just wanted a happy life with your girlfriend but then Ghostface attacks, revealing long thought to be buried family secrets.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Stabbing, Break in

Word Count: 3.3k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

“Hey babe, what’s up?” you asked.

Tara smiled, even while at work you still managed to answer her calls. She could hear you moving around, the clanging of glasses and the sound of patrons on the other end of the phone. “I miss you,” Tara said. She hadn’t seen you all day and she was home alone and bored.

You chuckled. Tara couldn’t make out the words, you sounded far away but she could tell you were talking to a customer. “Sorry,” you said, coming back to the phone. “We saw each other yesterday.” Tara didn’t say anything, pouting as she grabbed a pot to make dinner. “But,” you sighed, but Tara knew you were smiling. “I missed you too.”

“You didn’t spend the night last night,” Tara pouted, even though you couldn’t see her she wanted to make you feel guilty. “I’m home all alone.”

“You’re always home alone.”  Tara’s pout turned into a frown, she glared at you through the phone. “Besides I have an apartment, we could literally be alone together whenever you want.”

“Your apartment is tiny.”

Tara couldn’t help but smile, imagining the eye roll you’d surely give her. “Is that your way of saying when we get out of this hellhole, you’re not going to live with me?” Tara rolled her eyes; you always made everything so dramatic. “It’s fine. You’ll be going to college, living on campus, and I’ll be living in a shoebox all alone wherever you decide to go.”

“I’d love to live in a shoebox with you,” Tara giggled. “Sounds cozy.”

“Yeah?” you teased. “I thought my apartment was too small.”

“It is.” Your apartment truly was tiny. There was a living room, a kitchen, a bedroom, and a bathroom. It was tiny but it was all you. Tara knew it was the best you could do and still save money and since you were on your own it was actually incredible how well you were doing. She still loved giving you shit about your tiny apartment though. “But I like the idea of being in close quarters with you.”

It seemed you had taken the phone away from your ear again. Tara heard you mumbling and someone else, they had a deeper voice, she assumed it was your boss. “I have to go,” you sighed. “I’ve been informed this has counted as my break.”

Tara rolled her eyes; your boss could be an ass at times. “Tell them you’re dealing with an emergency. Your girlfriend is needy and wants your attention.”

You chuckled again. Tara bit her lip, she didn’t need to see you, just hearing your laugh was everything. “I’m not really sure he cares about that.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“I’ll come over after I get off.”

“I’ll wait up.”

“It’ll be late.”

“I’ll wait up,” Tara said again. She always tried to wait up for you. You worked at a bar and usually didn’t get off till well after midnight, almost early morning the next day at times. There were days you’d get off and come over and you’d be in bed for maybe an hour at most before Tara was getting up for school, those days you were always still in bed by the time she got home.

“Off the phone!” an angry voice came. They were clearly a good distance away, but Tara could hear them clear as day.

“Two seconds!” you screamed back. “I really have to go,” your voice went back to being soft, like it always was when you spoke to Tara. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Tara smiled as she hung up. You’d been dating for almost two years and had said ‘I love you’ a long time ago but it never failed to make Tara blush.

Tara smiled to herself, swaying back and forth in the kitchen. You and her always casually talked about the future together. It wasn’t anything crazy, it wasn’t talks about marriage and getting a house together. It was simple, it was talking about moving in together once Tara graduated. It might seem rushed to most people, moving in together right after high school, especially since you were a few years older, but Tara was eighteen and she knew what she wanted.

Some of the people who thought she was crazy were her best friends, they didn’t have a problem saying it either. Tara didn’t listen to them though, you and her had a plan. Tara would graduate and once she heard back from the schools she applied to, she’d choose, hopefully she’d get into her number one choice, then the two of you would find a little place by campus and you’d work, she’d go to school, and she’d get to come home to you and wake up next to you every day.

Since she couldn’t talk to you, she decided to text Amber. She was bored and though she only needed to entertain herself for a few hours she didn’t want to do it alone. She would just have to make sure Amber didn’t spend the night. You and Amber didn’t get along to put it lightly. You basically hated each other but tolerated each other’s presence, to an extent, for Tara’s sake. Tara honestly wasn’t sure why you didn’t like each other. It was more Amber than you, you kind of just reciprocated her hatred. Amber was never fond of you though. Tara has tried to ask a few times what the deal was, and Amber only ever said she just didn’t think you were good enough.

Tara: Wanna come over? We can binge watch movies

Amber: Where’s the girlfriend?

Tara rolled her eyes. Amber always started off hostile when it came to you. Ever since Tara introduced you, even before the two of you started dating. Amber has always had attitude. Tara tried to avoid talking about you but in times like this it was hard when Amber was the one bringing you up for no reason.

Tara: Work

Amber: Glad to know I’m the second choice

Tara: Stop

Tara: Do you want to hangout or not?

Tara: I’ll make the popcorn

Amber: You can do better than that

The phone on the counter started to ring. Tara looked up from her phone, scrunching her eyebrows at the ringing. No one ever called the landline, if someone wanted to talk to her or her mom, they had their cell. Hell, Tara wasn’t even sure she knew the home phone number. She shook her head and went back to texting Amber.

Tara: You get first pick of the movie?

Amber: I got some homework to finish up

Tara rolled her eyes, of course Amber was going to be difficult. The landline continued to ring. Tara was doing her best to ignore it, whoever was calling seemed persistent though.

Tara: Open liquor cabinet

Amber: Sold!

Tara: Fucking landline won’t stop ringing

“Hello?” Tara answered the landline with an eyeroll, not being able to stand the ringing any longer and hoping to get rid of whoever was on the other end quickly.

“Hello, is Christina there?” A man asked.

Tara rolled her eyes again, of course it was someone asking for her mom. “No, she’s not available. May I take a message?”

“Oh, uhh, yeah, sorry,” he stumbled over his words. Tara didn’t pay him much mind as she got the footrest and made her way over to get the key to the liquor cabinet. “I’m a friend of hers from group. Shit,” he whispered, clearly not meaning to say that.

“From her shit?” Tara smiled to herself, suddenly much more interested in the conversation.

“Just tell her I’m from group, I’m Charlie, she’s got my number.”

“Oh, she goes to group?” Tara asked, not believing for a second her mom was going to any sort of group.

“I shouldn’t have-look can you just tell her Charlie called?”

“And I’ll do exactly that Charlie, once you tell me what kind of group we’re talking about. Is it AA? NA?”

“Well, you sound exactly like she described you.”

“She talks about me in group?” Tara couldn’t believe that either, that definitely didn’t sound like her mom.

“Look, I don’t think I can really talk about that.”

Tara sighed, pulling out her phone again. She needed to tell Amber about this. Amber knew exactly what her mom was like and there was no way she wouldn’t enjoy this.

Tara: Dude I think it’s my mom’s new BF

Amber: Seriously???

“What did she say about me?” there was an edge of hostility in her tone, she wanted to hear all about what her mother possibly said about her in this group.

“Well, she loves you very much.”

“Oh, what does she love about me?” Tara asked, her sarcasm coming back.

“She loves that you’re creative, you love art and TV and movies.”

“Okay, lots of people love movies,” she shook her head, dismissing him.

“But she said you love scary movies and that you guys have that in common. She’s proud at making a fan out of you.”

“She is?” Tara slowed her movements, she used to watch scary movies with her mom all the time, but she’d never heard her mom say she was proud of her for anything before.

“Yeah, she told me the other day she wonders, what’s your favorite scary movie?” Tara ignored the way the man’s voice changed, still focusing on the fact that her mom was apparently proud of her.

“Uhh, The Babadook, it’s an amazing meditation on motherhood and grief.”

“Isn’t that a little fancy pants?” the man asked with a chuckle.

“Well, it’s elevated horror.”

“What does that mean, elevated horror?”

“You know, it’s like scary but with complex emotional and thematic underpinning, it’s not just some schlocky cheeseball nonsense with wall-to-wall jump scares.”

The man hummed, not seeming very interested in her answer. “That seems kind of boring to me. Have you ever seen Stab?” his tone changed again when he asked her the question, but once again Tara didn’t think much of it.

“Once, I think, at a sleepover, when I was like twelve.”

The man laughed at that. “You live in Woodsboro, and you don’t know Stab? Well, your mother loves that movie, she talks about it all the time in group. How well do you remember the original?”

“I don’t know, and it was like super 90s, it was really over lit, and everyone had weird hair.”

“Do you remember the beginning?”

“Not really, I mean it started with a kill scene, right? They always started with a kill scene.”

“Yeah, that’s right. That’s right,” he tone shifted again. “It’s a girl at home alone, she answers the wrong number and starts talking with the killer who makes her play a game.” Tara slowed her movements again, thinking the conversation was treading into weird territory. “Would you like to play a game, Tara?” he whispered her name. A chill went down her spine and she quickly hung up, not bothering to answer him.

Tara tossed the phone on the counter, watching it as if it would ring again. Her eyes darted around the house, looking for anything that shouldn’t be there. She pulled out her phone and locked all the doors, arming the alarm. She knew it was Woodsboro and someone always liked to make prank calls, especially around this time of year but she wasn’t taking her chances. Tara looked out the window, not seeing anyone creeping around her yard as she closed the curtains.

Tara checked the time on her phone. Only several minutes had passed since she had talked to you. She still had a few hours before you’d get off and get to the house. Her thumb hovered over your contact, wanting nothing more than to hear your voice. Tara knew she was just being paranoid, but she just wanted your comfort, you’d calm her down within seconds. She didn’t want to bother you though, she knew you were at work, you were busy, and you’d already been yelled at for just talking to her.

She left your contact and went to text Amber. She just needed to be talking to someone. It was clearly a stupid prank, but she just wanted someone to help keep her sane otherwise her imagination would drive her crazy.

Tara: It was some psycho. I’m locking the doors.

Amber: WTF??? You okay?

Tara started to type out she was fine and just a little jumpy. She knew it was probably a prank but that didn’t mean it wasn’t freaking her out. Before she could finish typing her text though the phone started ringing again, making her jump.

Amber: You should answer it.

Tara scrunched her eyebrows looking at Ambers text, she slowly lifted her eyes to look at the ringing phone again, then back down at her cell. Her thumb hesitated over the letters as she typed out her message.

Tara: How did you know my landline was ringing?

Tara: Amber?

Amber: This isn’t Amber

Amber: ANSWER THE PHONE BITCH

Tara moved to call the police; she had nine dialed, tears slowly began to fill her eyes, when another message appeared.

Amber: ANSWER THE PHONE OR AMBER DIES

Tara ran back to the counter, picking up the phone. “This isn’t fucking funny Amber,” she said but couldn’t keep the fear out of her voice.

“I told you, this isn’t Amber,” the same voice as before said, this time sounding much more sinister. Just then a video was sent to Tara, when she opened it, she saw footage of Amber, sitting in her room and brushing her hair. “Amber’s looking particularly fetching tonight. She really shouldn’t leave her phone lying around for anyone to clone.”

“What do you want?”

“I told you, I want to play a game,” he talked to her as if she was a child. “Stab movie trivia, three rounds, you call the cops, she dies, you get a question wrong, she dies, her parents aren’t home, I can be in that room in fifteen seconds. You want a warm-up question?”

“I told you, I don’t know these movies,” came out in a whine, tears already getting ready to fall. “I don’t! Ask me about something I do know,” she tried to bargain. “Ask me about It Follows, ask me about Hereditary, ask me about The Witch.”

“In the first Stab movie,” he continued, completely ignoring Tara’s pleas. “What Woodsboro native was introduced as the franchise’s main character?”

“It’s Sidney Prescott! It’s Sidney Prescott and she lived on Elm.”

“Correct. You see, you’re gonna do great at this. Okay, question one.”

“Nonono, I got that one right, it should count.”

“Anyone could have gotten that one right, Sidney’s in every movie but the last one. Question one, who wrote the original book the Stab movies are based on?”

“The chick from TV,” Tara struggled to remember her name. She had never read any of the books and she certainly didn’t watch the morning show the lady did.

“The chick from TV is not going to cut it Tara,” they let out a disappointed sigh.

“Oh! Gale Weathers! It’s Gale Weathers you motherfucker.”

“Correct. Amber might live to see the sunrise. Question two, who played the dumb bitch at the beginning of Stab one who answers the phone and gets carved up by the killer?”

“Fuck you.”

“Is that the answer you’re going with?” Tara quickly typed on her phone, going to IMDB and looking at the cast for Stab. “A non-answer counts as a wrong answer Tara. Time’s running out.” He continuously repeated the words tick tock, getting faster and faster as the seconds passed, making Tara more anxious and scroll faster.

“Maybe I made a mistake,” he continued, causing Tara to halt her scrolling for a second. “Maybe Amber isn’t enough motivation.” Tara let out a shaky breath, preparing herself for his next words. “Maybe I should have gone after your little girlfriend,” he spit out, not able to hide is clear hatred. “It’d be much easier, I mean it’s late, there’s no one around. No one would even hear her scream.”

“She has nothing to do with this!” Tara screamed, sobbing into the phone. She couldn’t get the image out of her head of you leaving the bar and getting jumped by Ghostface, getting stabbed and left to bleed out in the street with no one to help.

“She has everything to do with this,” the voice snapped. Tara didn’t even have time to process the clearly emotional outburst. “Tick tock Tara,” they snapped again. “Or should I just kill both? I’m sure I can gut Amber and then make it to-”

“Heather Graham!” Tara screamed finally finding the name, cutting the killer off before he could threaten you again.

“Correct,” he said, going right back to his calmer demeanor. “You pulled that one out, now for the final question, who was the killer in Stab one?”

“Oh, I know this one you fuck,” Tara gasped, realizing she knew the answer. “It’s Billy Loomis! It’s Billy Loomis and he was Sidney’s boyfriend, and he was played by Luke Wilson, and I got you asshole,” Tara couldn’t help but chuckle, relieved at getting the answer right. “I got it! I got it right!”

“Oh, I’m sorry Tara,” he almost sounded sympathetic. “But that’s just not correct.”

“What?” Tara whispered, confused, and not believing what she was hearing. “No no no no it is, that is right.”

"The correct answer is Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, there are two killers in the original Stab. I’m afraid someone’s gotta die now.”

“Nono, Amber I’m coming!” she shouts as she sets down the phone and grabs a kitchen knife, running for her front door.

When Tara threw open her door, she was met with the sight of Ghostface who quickly slashed their knife across her left side. Tara punched them in the face and slammed the door. She fought against Ghostface as he tried to shove his way in but eventually, she got the door shut, quickly locking it.

Tara pulled out her phone again, arming the system again and hitting the button to alert the authorities. She picked up her knife, slowly backing up down the hallway as she heard Ghostface relentlessly banging on the door trying to get in when suddenly the banging stopped. Tara’s heart dropped when she heard the alarm system say it was disarmed, Ghostface had access to her system somehow. Tara quickly armed it again, but Ghostface was ready, disarming it once again. They went back and forth arming and disarming the alarm system until it finally landed on armed.

Tara stood at the end of the hallway gasping for breath as she continued to sob. The landline rang again, startling her and making her swing the knife. She held the wall, sobbing as she made her way back to the landline.

“Hello?” Tara said, her words shaky as she stood in the middle of the kitchen, keeping the hand holding the knife raised.

“Bonus question Tara,” Ghostface whispered.

“Please stop,” she begged.

“Do you think I made it inside your house before you could re-arm?”

Just as Tara’s eyes widened with the realization, Ghostface came out from behind her, stabbing her in the stomach. Tara let out a scream of pain. When Ghostface pushed her into the kitchen island she turned around, smacking him across the head before he could stab her again.

Ghostface grabbed her by the head and shoved her to the floor. Tara rolled over, kicking Ghostface in the stomach. Ghostface brought down their boot, snapping Tara’s leg. Tara rolled over, sobbing from the pain.

Ghostface brought down his knife towards her face, but she reached up, causing the knife to go through her left hand. Tara screamed, holding Ghostface’s arm up as he continued to try and push the knife towards her face despite it still being in her hand. He finally pulled the knife out and Tara kicked him, making him lose his balance and crash to the floor.

Unable to walk, Tara crawled her way to the front door, screaming for help. Just as Tara reached the door and she could hear the police sirens, Ghostface yanked her back, stabbing her in the side several more times.

“Nononononono,” Tara screamed as Ghostface brought his knife down onto her again.

[worth-the-chaos]

Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 13

Chapter Summary: As you all attempt to connect the dots of the gruesome murders occurring around your small but sinister town, secrets start to spill when Steve realizes you’ve been keeping things from him.

Content Warning: violence, descriptive details of Chrissy’s murder, scary upside down shit, swearing (maybe that should have preceded the previous warning), arguing, guilt and trauma

Word Count: 7.2k

Author’s Note: Ahhh! I’m so excited to be getting this chapter out! Again, sorry it took longer than usual…college is kicking my ass and syllabus week is not syllabus week-ing (kind of bullshit if you ask me). Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter and I can’t wait to see what y’all think!

Message me if you want to be added to the taglist to get updates when the next chapter is posted…I’d highly recommend it if you want to follow the story since I don’t have a definite posting schedule :)

Series Masterlist | Chapter 12 | Next Part

***

Once you had caught up to the police cars, to your horror, you were met with the sight of a body covered in a white sheet in the middle of the road. Nancy was there talking to a police officer and when she had noticed the five of you there, she quickly finished her conversation with the officer.

Now, you were all sitting at a picnic table in the trailer park, debriefing over everything you knew thus far. Your head was spinning hearing it all over again. Even though you didn’t feel quite ready to handle it, you knew that you had to. You looked around at your friends sitting beside you at the table and thought about how you were all just victims of circumstance.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Nancy finally spoke up after Dustin’s explanation.

“It’s just a theory,” Dustin replied.

“No, Fred and Chrissy don’t make sense. I mean, why them?” She shook her head as she said it. You wondered how Nancy was feeling. Knowing how much she had struggled with Barb’s death, you wondered if Fred’s was impacting her similarly.

“Maybe they were just in the wrong place?” You suggested. “I mean, they were both at the game…and near the trailer park,” you added, trying to find any and all connections you could possibly make. I just want it to make sense, you thought, if it made sense that means we could fix it.

“We’re at the trailer park,” Steve spoke up hesitantly, looking at you with worry in his eyes as he grabbed for your hand under the table. “Uhh…should we maybe not…be here?”

“There is something about this place,” Nancy began, “Fred started acting weird the second we got here.”

“Weird as in…?” Robin pushed the question.

“Scared….upset,” Nancy looked you all in the eyes. You felt a chill go down your spine as you considered the fact that these kids—your peers—likely died in terror.

“Max said Chrissy was upset too,” Dustin reminded you all.

“Yeah, but not here. She was crying in the bathroom at school.”

“Serial killers stalk their prey before they strike, right? So maybe Fred and Chrissy saw this Vecna before?” Robin suggested. You were all grasping at straws at this point. There wasn’t anything to even go off of.

“I don’t know about you guys, but if I saw some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone,” Steve spoke up. You felt a pang in your chest as you remembered all that you hadn’t been telling him.

“Maybe they did,” you added hesitantly. “I saw Chrissy leaving Ms. Kelley’s office. If you saw a monster, you…you wouldn’t go to the police. They’d never believe you.”

“But you might tell your shrink,” Robin finished your thought, sharing a knowing look with you. She had been keeping secrets for you. What Steve didn’t know was that when he had picked you up in the middle of the assembly, the two of you had run into Ms. Kelley before you could make it to the nurse’s office.

You were still crying after you and Robin had gone back inside after hanging up with Steve. You were no longer inconsolable, but tears were still streaming down your face. Robin tried to quickly rush you to the nurse’s office, her mind going a million miles a minute trying to think of a good excuse. Suddenly, you turned the corner and you jumped as you were met face to face with Ms. Kelley.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?” She asked you. Her eyes searched your face looking for an answer and you felt your heart leap to your throat. You were choked up, unable to speak, so she continued, attempting to be quiet to maintain confidentiality. “Is this about the mall fire again? Do you need to schedule another appointment with me?”

You avoided eye contact with Ms. Kelley, instead more focused on looking over her shoulder at Robin as her face twisted into a look of confusion and concern. You felt guilt pull at your chest from the look on her face and you redirected your gaze to the floor, suddenly way more concerned with the dirty laces of your tennis shoes.

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Ms. Kelley. Thank you though for all your help this semester. I think I’m just having one of those days and-and with Jason talking about it at the assembly…it just caught me off guard is all,” your voice was small as you responded, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

“What can I do to support you right now?” She further inquired. All you could think of was the panic that had settled in your ribcage and how you desperately needed to leave.

“I guess…I just don’t think I’m in a good frame of mind to be in class right now. I have a quiz in O’Donell’s and I don’t want my grade to tank because of all of this,” you choked out. Ms. Kelley nodded as she rubbed circles on your back to help calm you down.

“How about I go to the front office and get you all signed out and Robin can wait with you outside for your ride?” You nodded and she turned to Robin, “you can call her folks on the payphone for her, yeah?”

Robin stood dumbfounded for a second before shaking her head to clear her thoughts. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, of course!” She quickly replied, nodding aggressively, still a bit shocked by the whole encounter. Ms. Kelley thanked Robin and headed towards the main office, and your eyes were still fixed on the floor when Robin spoke up again.

“Look, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but I just want you to know that I’m here for you, okay?” She grabbed your shoulders and forced you to look her in the eye. “I’m not going to say I understand what you’re going through specifically, but I was there too, so if you ever need to talk to someone about it without shrouding it in lies about a fire, please just come to me.”

You stood there in silence for a little bit before you nodded. “You can’t tell Steve,” you warned, your voice serious. “Seriously, Robin. He can’t know about any of this.”

Robin looked like she wanted to protest but sighed before finally agreeing. “Fine. Let’s go wait for your dingus.”

Your breath caught in your throat as she had said it. You shot her a look that said “don’t even go there” as everyone was getting up to go. She rolled her eyes but dropped the subject. Suddenly you noticed Nancy was heading in a different direction as Steve started to follow after her.

“Woah, woah, Nance. Nance! Where are you going?” Steve called after her, concern lacing his voice. Your heart dropped a little at the nickname, knowing that was what he started calling her after they had started dating. You knew that he loved you, but you couldn’t help but feel less than when you remembered Steve had spent nearly a year dating the most perfect girl in Hawkins.

“Oh, there’s just something I wanna check on first.” She responded, though something in her voice made it clear that there was more than she was letting on.

“Something you maybe wanna share with the rest of us?” Dustin asked, exasperated, and you couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. We’re all in this together and it doesn’t make sense to be keeping things from each other, you thought, but it was followed by an immediate pang in your chest as you thought about the things you’d been keeping from your own boyfriend.

“I just don’t wanna waste anyone’s time.”

“Uh, are you serious? Flying solo with this Vecna guy on the loose? No, it’s too dangerous. You need someone to go with you. In fact, I’ll go,” you started heading towards her, but Steve caught you by your elbow and pulled you back, the change in momentum causing you to stumble.

“Oh, absolutely not! No way in fucking hell!” Steve yelled, and your jaw set at the anger in his voice. You opened your mouth to argue, but Robin spoke up before you could get a word out.

“This is stupid. I’ll go with Nancy and we’ll sort out whatever it is we need to sort out,” Robin started heading towards Nancy’s car and Nancy quickly followed.

“Be careful!” You yelled out after them and they didn’t really respond because who could honestly be careful with any of this shit anyway? None of you really knew what the hell was going on.

Steve rolled his eyes as you all got in the car. “Wipe your feet,” he warned Dustin, who, in true dumbass fashion, began wiping his dirty tennis shoes off on the floor mats in Steve’s BMW. “Not on the inside! On the outside idiot!” You couldn’t help but chuckle as Steve aggressively started the car. “Always the babysitter. Always the goddamn babysitter!”

“Hey, it could be worse…the kids behave sometimes,” you reminded Steve and he looked at you like you had three heads.

“Yeah, sure, if sometimes means on the corner of never and not at all, then sure. They’re perfectly behaved,” he grumbled and you couldn’t help but laugh. The laughter, however, didn’t last long as the reality of the situation started to settle in. You were going to have to talk to Ms. Kelley.

“Hey, so I think I’ll go talk to Ms. Kelley by myself, you know. I just…I’ve been talking to her recently because she’s been helping with some college application stuff, so I’ve got a good rapport with her and whatever,” you attempted to remain nonchalant, but you stumbled over your words a bit and Steve looked at you funny. You just stared pointedly at him and he shrugged, making his way to her house. Luckily with it being such a small town, it wasn’t too hard to figure out where she lived. He parked on the street and turned the car off, beginning to unbuckle.

“What are you doing?” You asked quickly.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going with you,” he responded, his brows furrowed in confusion and annoyance.

“No!” you put a hand on his shoulder, and he stopped in his tracks, his confusion significantly multiplying.

“This shit is fucked, y/n. I’m not letting you go by yourself, no way.”

“Well, then Max can go with me,” you offered, looking at the girl in the backseat who was equally confused. “I just think it’s a good idea for you to keep the car running…you know, in case something happens and we have to leave quickly.”

It was a dumb ass excuse, but Steve let it slide as he rolled his eyes and started the car again. Max opened up her mouth to ask you what the hell was going on as you made your way to the front door but you just gave a small shake of your head to shut down her potential questioning. You knocked on the door and Ms. Kelley finally answered, a look of confusion and concern painted across her features.

“Hey…I-I’m sorry to bother you over break but do you have a minute to talk?” You asked, trying to keep your voice even despite the anxiety settling in your chest.

“Um, yeah, of course. Of course,” she replied, stepping to the side to let the both of you in. You both sat down in her family room as she took a seat across from the two of you.

“So, what’s going on? What would you like to talk about?”

“I just brought Max here because with all of the murders going on…we’re just…I guess we’re just feeling a bit uneasy. It’s just making it difficult, especially since Max lives in the trailer park too where the body was discovered. It’s just hitting a little too close to home.” Max nodded, following your lead, though neither of you were being dishonest. You were both scared shitless.

“You both have experienced trauma and I know both of you don’t like to talk about it or deal with your emotions,” Ms. Kelley spoke up and you looked over to Max. She must have been seeing Ms. Kelley too. “But when you keep your feelings bottled up like that, it is very easy for something to set them off. So now, when it rains, it storms.”

“Yeah, I know,” Max replied, and your heart ached for the poor girl. You felt the ever present guilt tear at your chest as you tried to swallow the lump in your throat as she went on. “It’s just, I live right next door to where it happened. The police asked me a bunch of questions…and I guess I was just wondering if they talked to you? I know you were seeing Chrissy—“

Ms. Kelley cut her off, “you know I can’t talk to you about Chrissy.”

“I know but what if there was a serial killer loose in her neighborhood?” You chimed in. “Did Chrissy mention anything? Anything at all about who might have done this?”

“Girls, I really can’t discuss this, I’m sorry. You both wouldn’t want me talking about you to other students, right?”

“If I were dead and it would help catch the killer, then yeah, I most definitely would,” you shot back, beginning to get heated about the way this was getting you nowhere.

“Well, let’s leave that to the police then, okay?” Ms. Kelley responded, staying calm per usual despite your outburst.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you conceded, but another plan was already taking root in your mind. “Can we use the restroom on our way out?”

“Sure. Up the stairs to the left.” You grabbed Max’s wrist and gently but quickly guided her up into the kitchen, ignoring Ms. Kelley’s directions she had given you and grabbing keys labeled “office” out of a bowl on her counter.

“Come on,” you whispered, dragging her behind you as you both swiftly and silently made your way out of the house. You quickly got in the car before looking at Steve who was staring at you expectantly. “Drive.”

“What? Y/n, what did she say?”

“Nothing, just drive!” You emphasized and Steve abided as he took off. You would have to wait for the sun to go down, but as soon as it did, it was go time.

You were breaking in to Hawkins High.

***

You fumbled with the keys as you tried to unlock the doors of the school. You weren’t the type of student that did this shit. Sure, you weren’t exactly a goody-two-shoes, but breaking into the school? That was a bit too much, even for the likes of you guys.

You finally got the door opened, pushing into the dark hallway, flashlight illuminating the dark corridor as you made your way into the building. After making sure there was no one in sight, you waved the rest of the gang to follow you.

“This is dumb as hell,” Steve reminded you, “like I don’t know in what world you see this going okay…and—and if we get caught, you might as well kiss your chance of scholarships goodbye.”

“Well, some things are more important than college,” you grumbled, annoyed with your boyfriend. You guessed it was cute that he cared so much about your long term plans and aspirations—but still.

He scoffed and you rolled your eyes as you continued to make your way down the hall. Suddenly Dustin’s walkie talkie came to life, Robin’s voice echoing out into the empty hall. “Dustin, do you copy?”

“Yeah, I copy.”

“So, Nancy’s a genius. Vecna’s first victims date all the way back to 1959; her shot in the dark was a bullseye,” Robin sounded excited. Dustin was about to speak again when you took the walkie out of his hands, pressing down the button to speak.

“That is totally bonkers, but we can’t really talk right now,” you relayed quickly into the radio.

“Wait, what are you guys doing right now?”

“You know, just…breaking and entering in the school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files,” you replied a bit sheepishly. Robin asked you to repeat yourself, but Steve grabbed the walkie talkie from you.

“Just get your asses over here, stat. We’ll explain everything,” Steve sounded irritated. He wasn’t super thrilled to be bringing two of his other senior friends into this who were likely to be expelled if the school found out about their actions.

You swiftly unlocked the door to Ms. Kelley’s office, immediately moving to unlock the file cabinet that contained all of her student files.

“It’s like a mini Watergate or something,” Dustin mumbled as you yanked the drawer open, flipping through the files. “Hawkinsgate!” Dustin emphasized, though you weren’t entirely paying attention, attempting to find Chrissy’s file.

“Didn’t those guys get caught?” Steve reminded the boy, his anxiety rising by the minute the longer you all were in the building.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, stopping at another hauntingly familiar name on a file.

“Did you find it?” Max asked, everyone’s attention now on you.

“Yeah, and not just Chrissy’s file…Fred was seeing Ms. Kelley too.”

You all looked between each other, the room becoming increasingly more tense as elements of what you knew were beginning to connect. You sat down as you flipped Chrissy’s file open. You were thumbing through the pages when you found a handwritten note with a list of symptoms. You felt your heart drop when you read them. “Um, can I see Fred’s file,” you whispered, not drawing your eyes away from the words on the page.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Steve replied, setting Fred’s file in front of you. You frantically flipped through the pages until you found a very similar handwritten note, detailing all the same ailments. You sat there, staring wide eyed at the page in front of you, hoping desperately that if you stared at it long enough that the words would change. They didn’t.

Dustin spoke up from behind you, “hey, y/n…you have a file in here too?” It was more of a question than a statement, and you broke out of your trance as Steve looked at you confused. When you didn’t say anything, he turned his attention to Dustin, his confusion turning to anger.

“Hey, that’s not funny. Stop bullshitting, man,” Steve warned, but he stopped in his tracks when Dustin held up the file folder, your name printed clear as day across the top. Why in the hell were you seeing Ms. Kelley? His mind raced as he tried not to think about all the other things you might not be telling him.

“Y/n? What is this? Y/n…y/n!” Steve began to interrogate you, holding up the file folder in front of you in a white knuckled grip. He was mad…that much you could tell, but his voice continued to sound farther and farther away. Instead, a different voice rang out, your name echoing into the room in a low and gravelly register that made your skin crawl. Even though you didn’t want to, you felt compelled to follow it.

You turned, getting up from your chair and exiting into the hallway. You heard a slight, rhythmic ticking before a chime rang out. A chill went down your spine as the noise caused your heart to sink in your chest. If anxiety had a sound, this was it.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat as you pushed on through the hallway. You were surprised no one else had followed you, but you pushed the thought aside as you turned the corner, you flashlight slightly shaking in your unsteady hands. The light caught the wall at the end of the tunnel, and you felt nauseous looking at the ornate grandfather clock sat nestled into the wall, fissures spreading outwards as the plaster cracked around its wooden frame.

The pendulum swung back and forth ominously…hypnotically as you continued towards it. Your mind screamed at you to stop, but your legs wouldn’t listen as they continued forward, bringing you closer and closer to the clock. It continued to tick evenly, which was almost more unsettling as you wondered what it was counting down to.

“Y/n,” the voice growled out again. It was all too much to bear, so you squeezed your eyes shut tight as you willed it all to be over. Instead, you were met with bright blue, yet sinister looking eyes staring back at you.

Suddenly, Steve’s voice filled your ears again and you felt someone shaking at your shoulders. “Y/n! Y/n, please wake up! Y/n!”

Your eyes shot open as you stared wide eyed into the familiar brown ones you would daydream about. Except, instead of having the familiar flecks of light as they twinkled when he talked to you, they were dark and full of worry, his brow furrowed as he stared deep into your eyes.

You gasped and leaned forward in your chair, collapsing into his arms. He immediately reacted to your movements, pulling you in close as his hands frantically moved across your back, as if trying to make sure you were still all there. You were breathing heavily and fighting back tears as you gripped Steve’s shirt in your hands.

The door suddenly burst open, causing you to shriek, and Steve swiftly pulled you up out of your chair, yanking you behind him as he gripped your hand in his. Your heart rate began to slow as you realized it was only Nancy and Robin…not whatever that thing was that you saw.

“What’s going on?” Robin asked hesitantly. You looked between Dustin, Max, and Steve as you tried to figure out what you could possibly say. After a moment, you finally settled on something, reluctantly opening your mouth to speak.

“I…I saw something.”

“What do you mean you saw something?” Dustin asked hesitantly. He had been scared out of his mind when he saw you go catatonic in the chair, unresponsive to Steve’s shouting. He had thought back to Eddie’s account of what happened to Chrissy as he sat frozen watching Steve try to wake you.

Your lips parted to try and explain, but you shook your head, moving around Steve and darting towards the door. He tried to stop you, but Robin put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back as everyone followed you out into the hall.

“It was right there….a grandfather clock. And—and it was so…real. When I got closer, suddenly I-I just…I woke up,” you explained, staring blankly at the wall in front of you. It sat there plain and empty, and it almost was more frightening that the clock you had seen was gone now.

“It was like she was in a trance or something. Exactly like what Eddie said happened to Chrissy,” Dustin elaborated. Steve’s stomach dropped and he suddenly felt nauseous. That couldn’t be it. He couldn’t live with himself if you…

He pushed the thought aside.

“That’s not even the bad part,” you interjected, turning to face your group of friends.

“What the fuck do you mean, y/n?” Steve asked, his voice dead serious. You didn’t answer him as you quickly made your way back to Ms. Kelley’s office, opening the files that had sent a shudder down your spine as you read them earlier.

“Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Ms. Kelley for help. Uh, they both were having headaches, nosebleeds…nightmares, trouble sleeping. And—and then they started seeing things. Bad things,” you started explaining. Steve thought back to all the times you had woken up gasping in the middle of the night, burying your head into his chest as he soothed you back to sleep. He thought about the tissues he had started keeping in his car and the jokes he made about your suddenly frequent nosebleeds. He thought about the headache you had just the night before. He felt more sick to his stomach than he had ever felt in his life as he followed the dots you had connected.

“These visions, they kept on getting worse and worse, until eventually…everything ended,” you whispered the last part, your voice beginning to fail you.

“Vecna’s curse,” Robin looked at you, fear in her eyes.

“Chrissy’s headache started a week ago. Fred’s six days ago,” you continued, “I’ve been having them for five days. I don’t know how long I have. All I know is that Fred and Chrissy both died within 24 hours of their first vision, and I just saw that goddamn clock, so…looks like I’m gonna die tomorrow.” A tear rolled down your cheek as you stumbled through your words, not ready for the inevitability that you were staring in the face.

“No, that’s not going to happen,” Steve spoke up, shaking his head aggressively. “I mean, it’s all just a coincidence, right? It has to be. It-it just has to be.” His voice began to falter as he looked between all of you, none of you sharing his optimism. No one responded, and he kicked the metallic front of the desk, muttering curse words under his breath. You went to stop him, but Robin held you back. He needed this. He needed the catharsis.

Each clang that rang out was like a knife to your chest, feeling the reverberation in your body as he kicked with all his might. He finally calmed down a bit, leaning over and panting as he placed two hands on the desk and stared as his feet while fuming.

Suddenly another clang rang out; however, this one couldn’t be attributed to Steve’s outburst. This one came from somewhere else in the building. You all jumped and Steve when saw the fear in your eyes, his jaw set and he spoke up.

“You guys stay here,” he muttered as he grabbed a floor lamp, yanking it aggressively to unplug it before heading out of the room. You all obviously didn’t listen, following close behind as you hesitantly made your way down the hall. Another clang sounded, this time closer, and you jumped, Robin grabbing your shoulders to steady you. Suddenly, you heard the distinctive sound of footsteps. Someone was coming for you.

The pace of them quickened as whatever was headed your direction began to break out into a clear and definite sprint. A figure suddenly turned the corner, and everyone broke out into a chorus of shrieks and screams as Steve geared up to swing the metal lamp.

“It’s me!” The figure screamed out and you realized it was only Lucas.

“What is wrong with you Sinclair?!” Steve shouted, his paternal side kicking in as he turned this instance into a lecture.

“I’m sorry,” Lucas panted, doubled over from running.

“I could’ve taken you out with this lamp!” Steve once again emphasized, shaking the lamp for effect.

“I’m sorry guys…I-I…just give me a second…I was biking…for eight miles. And-and…we’ve got…a code red,” he panted in response. You all looked at him expectantly before he continued. “Dustin, I’ve been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy and they’ve totally gone off the rails. They’re trying to capture Eddie and they think you know where he is. You’re in terrible danger!”

Your heart stopped in your chest, as you went to stand in front of Dustin wanting to further question Lucas. You needed to know every last damn detail if you were going to keep Dustin safe, and that was all you cared about right now. Dustin pushed back in front of you, glaring at you a bit before speaking up again. “That really sucks, but we have bigger problems than Jason right now,” he relayed to Lucas, looking back at you.

***

You had split up for the night…well kind of. Everyone else was spending the night at Nancy’s but Steve decided that the two of you needed time to talk so there you were, back in his BMW as you made your way to his house. You didn’t know what to say to him, and you both rode in silence, the air tense between you.

About halfway through the ride, he had removed one hand from the steering wheel, reaching blindly to grasp your hand in his. He needed reassurance that you were still here. He needed to find a way to believe that they would figure this out and you would still be here.

You went up to his room, quietly sitting on the bed as your eyes filled with tears again now that you were in an environment in which you could be more vulnerable. Steve stood at his dresser, getting a pair of pajama pants out as he broke the silence.

“How could you keep this from me, y/n?” He sounded hurt and you really couldn’t blame him. If the tables were turned you would have felt the same way, and you felt the need to justify your actions.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” you whispered. You were looking down at your hands, though you couldn’t see them that well as your vision blurred from the unshed tears.

“That’s bullshit, and I think you know it,” Steve replied, his voice still small. “I…I just can’t believe you don’t trust me.”

“Of course I trust you Steve!” You cried out, your head snapping up to look at him.

“You sure have a funny way of showing it,” he scoffed. He knew he shouldn’t be angry with you. That he shouldn’t be taking it out on you. But he felt betrayed, feeling as though the relationship you’d built was shattering before his eyes as he contemplated the secrets you’d kept.

“You knew I was struggling. Don’t even try and act like you didn’t; this shouldn’t be a complete shock,” you defended yourself, anger leaking into your tone as well.

“Yeah, I knew you were struggling, but not like this! This is kind of a bit more than just struggling, y/n. Why didn’t you fucking tell me you were seeing Ms. Kelley?”

“Steve, that doesn’t even matter, I don’t get why you’re so caught up on that one little detail! It’s nothing compared to all the other shit going on right now!” You yelled, exasperated that, despite everything, he couldn’t just let it go.

“‘It doesn’t matter’? Are you fucking serious, y/n? Of course it fucking matters! You didn’t come to me! You never tell me things! We don’t really fucking talk about it anymore—all the shit we went through, I mean,” he sighed, running his hands through his hair as you stared up at him from your spot on his bed. He still stood by his dressed, and the distance between you suddenly felt uncrossable. In this moment, it felt like you were strangers to one another. He took a deep breath and continued, “I-I…we used to talk about it; work through it together. It seems like ever since last summer, we don’t even fucking acknowledge it.”

You stared up at him from across the room, and he thought he could break at the look in your eyes. You were hurting. You had been hurting, and all he wanted to do was try and make it better, but you wouldn’t let him.

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Steve,” your voice was even as you said it.

“Why didn’t you tell me about seeing Ms. Kelley?”

“Steve—“

“No, cut the bullshit, y/n. Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing Ms. Kelley? It’s a simple question; answer it,” he crossed his arms, refusing to move on until he got an adequate response. You were reaching your breaking point, and you didn’t think about the words before they exited your lips.

“Because you would have tried to help, and I don’t want your fucking help!” You blurted out. As soon as you saw the way that Steve’s face fell as you said it, you wished you could take it back. He took a deep breath and hung his head as he turned to leave the room. “Steve, wait….I-I didn’t mean it like that! Steve!”

You ran to him, grabbing at his wrist to try and get him to stay. He shook your hand away, turning around to look back at you. You saw the way tears were beginning to pool in his pretty brown eyes.

“Y/n…just….I just need you to leave me alone right now, okay?” He choked the words out. You were expecting him to be mad, to yell, to be angry. Instead his voice was small and sad, and you felt your heart jump to your throat. You didn’t listen, grabbing his wrist again as tears began to stream down your face. You decided that listening to him shout was easier to take than watching him cry knowing you caused it.

“Just yell at me! Steve, please. Just yell at me! Don’t leave, please baby!” You begged, pulling on his arm with each word that left your mouth. You were choking back sobs and slowly, he turned back towards you.

Something about him set off alarm bells in your head as you felt a shiver run down your spine.

“Why would I stay for you?” The words felt like a knife to your heart as your brows furrowed, confused at his words.

“What?” You whispered, your hands dropping his wrist as a lump formed in your throat.

“I said, why would I stay for you? You’re a dirty fucking liar and the most self-centered person I fucking know. It doesn’t matter what I need, or what anyone else needs. I mean, you put the kids in danger all the fucking time! When are you going to learn that this Upside Down bullshit isn’t what’s scary. You are,” he spat, taking a step towards you. Your heart was racing and you took a step back. He had never acted like this before. He had never told you that he thought these things about you.

“I-I…I don’t understand,” you cried, continuing to scramble backwards as he approached you. You’d never been afraid of him before either, but you couldn’t help the fear clawing at your chest as he continued forward, slowly yet with an aggression that had you trembling as you quickened your steps backwards to evade his reach. His room was only so small, and you were running out of room.

“Y/n,” Steve laughed. It sounded foreign to your ears; it wasn’t the melodic tone you’d come to love and seek out. Instead it was sinister, laced in condescension and anger. “Did you really think I care whether or not I’m with you or some other bitch? Do you really think anyone cares about you? You’re just some misfit freak, and nothing is ever going to change that.”

You took a step back, jumping in fright as your back hit the wall. You had run out of room, and suddenly Steve grabbed your wrists and pinned them to your sides. You squeezed your eyes shut tight and turned your head to the side, hoping that it would all just go away.

“Look at me,” Steve’s voice rang out again, but this time it was distorted, your eyes fluttered open as you cried out, being met with the same piercing blue eyes that you had seen flash across your vision before you woke up from your trance in the school earlier. You heard a chime ring out; the same chime that echoed from the clock, and you remembered the way the pendulum had swung menacingly from side to side.

“Let go of me!” You gasped out. You wished you hadn’t opened your eyes, as you took in the sight of the figure in front of you. His skin was decrepit, a slightly translucent sheen apparent as the dim moonlight filtering through the window reflected off its surface.

“You think you can atone for everything that you destroyed?” The figure asked you. Your heart was racing, feeling his clawed hands grip your wrists tighter as you tried to wriggle free. “All you’ve ever done is hurt people, put people in danger, ruin lives.”

You thought back over the past two and a half years, feeling the guilt rise in your throat as you thought about Dustin. You were supposed to protect him. You were supposed to make sure he was staying out of danger.

Instead, time and time again you led him right to it.

“Just let me go!” You shrieked. You couldn’t budge from his grasp, small cries escaping your lips in defeat as you continued your desperate and futile attempts to break free.

“Your time is almost up, y/n,” his voice was a low growl as he leaned in, saying it quietly into your ear. Goosebumps erupted over your whole body as you squeezed your eyes shut again.

“Y/n! Please! Y/n!” Another voice suddenly filled your ears. It sounded far away at first, but it became clearer and you felt someone shaking your shoulders as your eyes snapped open to meet the familiar brown ones you knew and loved. Tears were streaming down Steve’s face and when he realized you finally come to, he pulled you in, crushing you in the tightest hug you’d ever received.

You began to break down, sobs racking your frame as you grabbed onto your boyfriend. “I don’t know what’s real anymore,” you choked out between sobs, your tears forming a wet spot on his shirt as you cried into his shoulder.

“Shhhhh, it’s okay. I’m here, baby, I’m real,” he tried to console you, but he was still a mess himself. He thought back over what he just witnessed and he felt guilt settle in his chest.

He had just told you that he needed a second to be alone. He needed time to clear his thoughts because he didn’t want to say anything in the heat of the moment that he would regret later. You had clung to his arm, protesting and trying to get him to stay when all of the sudden you retreated into yourself, going catatonic as your eyes rolled in the back of your head. He felt his heart sink halfway to hell when you wouldn’t respond. Your eyes were moving rapidly back and forth underneath your eyelids and regardless of what he did, you wouldn’t wake up. All he could think about was what Eddie had said about Chrissy…the way she levitated and her bones began to snap and how her eyes got pulled back into her skull.

He couldn’t watch that happen to you.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” he whispered into your ear as he swayed with you from side to side. You could feel him still trembling and you thought back to what the figure—what Vecna, had said. All you ever brought on was hurt and destruction and chaos.

“I’m sorry!” You cried out, continuing to sob. At this, Steve immediately pulled away, looking at you quizzically.

“Why are you apologizing? Please don’t apologize, baby,” he begged.

“It’s just…I-I-I should’ve told you I was going to see Ms. Kelley! I was just afraid be-because I didn’t want you…to-to try and fix it because I knew that-that you would worry, and…and I didn’t want to put you through that stress,” you began, hiccuping through your words as you continued to cry. “Steve, I-I…I don��t think I have much time. I don’t want to waste what little we might have left being angry at each other, so can you please forgive me?”

Steve ignored your plea for forgiveness, instead focusing on the other aspect of your statement. “What do you mean you don’t have much time?” He asked hesitantly, afraid of what your answer would be.

“I saw Vecna,” you whispered, “he told me my time is almost up.”

“I’m not going to let him take you from me, y/n. I’m just not,” he shook his head aggressively as he stared at you wide eyed.

“Steve, this is exactly why I didn’t tell you—“ you began but he cut you off.

“Y/n, I don’t care that you don’t want me to worry about you; I’m going to regardless of whether you tell me to or not, and if you think that I’m going to let some Upside Down, inter dimensional, creepy ass motherfucker take you away from us, you are dead wrong,” he started, getting more and more emphatic and angry as he spoke. When he continued, his voice was softer. “I’m not letting anyone hurt my girl again, okay? We’re all going to figure this out and everything is going to be okay. We’re going to find Vecna and kill his ass, and everything is going to be okay…you are going to be okay.”

It sounded like he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince you. You put your hands on the side of his face, trying to get him to settle, your heart hurting at his frantic speaking, a stark contrast to his usual more calm demeanor.

“Steve, but what if it’s not?” You asked, your voice a whisper.

“It has to be,” he whispered back. You could see the tears beginning to well in his eyes again, and you placed a soft kiss to his lips. He reciprocated, deepening the kiss as his hand went to the nape of your neck. He kissed you like his life depended on it; like he would never get to kiss you again as he pushed you towards his bed, laying you down gently.

His lips moved across your jawline as he kissed your soft skin, placing gentle but fervent kisses on the spot just below your ear. His lips trailed down your neck as he listened to you breathe. You were whispering his name and he took a second to take it all in.

Here he was, with the love of his life, who was presumably about to die at any given moment. Yet you were still sitting like a masterpiece on his sheets, his name dripping from your lips like honey. You were everything he had ever wanted and he cursed himself for not doing a better job at protecting you.

“Steve?” You whispered breathily, putting a hand on his chest to stop him. He propped himself up better, looking down at you, and he felt his heart skip as he looked into your lust filled eyes.

“What is it baby?”

“I’m ready,” you whispered. Understanding what you meant, he leaned down and placed the sweetest and most gentle kiss to your lips.

Tomorrow wasn’t certain, so tonight, Steve was going to love you as if there was no tomorrow, making sure you knew exactly just how much you meant to him.

While you spent the night tangled up in Steve’s bedsheets as he placed hot kisses across every inch of your body, for the first time in a while, you felt at ease. You allowed yourself to revel in the bliss of that moment because, come tomorrow morning, you were going to have to start facing the reality of the situation.

And the reality of a sudden and gruesome death was a hard pill to swallow.

***

a/n: anyway, so shit’s gettin’ real. Reblog if you want to give me a free dose of serotonin while I’m muddling through the dumpster fire that is college :)

taglist:

@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @maeve-wileyy @palachannie @chaerfull @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki @kitdjarin1 @kissmxcheek @daemonskitty @bethsvrse @aheadfullofsteverogers @quinnsadilla @chervbs

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Winter Wolf: Part 14

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst

Word Count: 3,523

A/N: Finally got the muse to finish this story! YAY!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13

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

“Who’s the cutest little princess in the whole wide world?” Bucky cooed from your bathroom as he gave Anastasia a bath, while you caught your notebook up on the last two years of your life. You smirked to yourself as your daughter giggled away and splashed in the water in her blow up bath tub in the shower. “You are! Yes, you are!”

“Thought I was the cutest in the world.” You called out, playfully as you leaned to the side the slightest bit to see your husband with your eyebrow cocked.

“Not anymore!” He cooed, teasingly with barely a glance over at you. “Ana wins that, hands down now. You didn’t age so well in the dinosaur years.”

��You’re rude!” You laughed as you chucked a pillow at him, easily hitting him in the side to which he completely overreacted to make Ana laugh harder.

“What was that?!” He asked her as he shook his head and pushed himself off where he had purposely fallen to his hip. “Did Mommy just hit me, go boom?! Oh, yes she did, and Daddy’s gunna remember that shit later tonight, too. Yes he will.”

“Are you receiving company?” Tony asked as he knocked gently on your open bedroom door. You froze the slightest bit and closed your notebook as you looked over at him in shock.

“Umm... yes? How am I supposed to answer that, Tony.”

“I know I ruined your birthday.” He started as he opened up his tablet and held it out to you. “And I also didn’t get you a wedding gift. But I figured I’d at least try to kill three birds with one stone with this as a way of apologizing for what I put you through, after everything you have done for the world.” You nodded and scooted across the bed to take the tablet as Bucky did his best to get his daughter out of the bath peacefully for bed so he could see what was going on. You looked at the screen and almost instantly felt the scalding heat you felt the day you watched your home burn to the ground.

“My plantation.” You whispered as you looked at the charred remains. “It’s still there?!”

“It’s technically a historical site.” Tony said as he glanced over at Bucky as he leaned on your door frame. “You owned the biggest plantation in Georgia during the Civil War. It was on the market for a while back in the late 1800’s, early 1900’s but then was taken off...”

“When I moved to London to go to school.” You said with a nod. “I was a doctor... my Lord.” You whispered with a shake of your head.

“Well the property went to the government some time in the 1920’s, and was deemed historical. So they maintained the property and the other houses and stables. But they never rebuilt the main house...”

“There’s an old willow tree a ways to the right of the house.” You said as you closed your eyes and tried to look past the last day you were there in your mind. “It was nearly as tall as the house and I could see if from my bedroom window. Is it still there?” You opened your eyes and looked over at Tony, who slowly shook his head and shrugged.

“I’m not sure. It took me a while to track this place down, because no one knew who the owner was after the war, and I haven’t been down to look yet. Figured you’d want to go first.” You nodded your head and looked back down at the photo as Bucky sat down on the bed beside you with Ana.

“It had a huge wrap around porch.” You told him as you showed him the photo with a small smile as more memories flooded your mind. “John made us rocking chairs that sat right here so we could watch the sun set. Mine had a hole in the right arm from when I stabbed it with my knitting needle after a disagreement one night. And it had these big white columns in front that held up the roof and the small porch up there. Look, baby... this is where Mommy lived.” You said to Ana as you traded Bucky her for the tablet when she tried to get away from her dad.

“We can leave in the morning if you’d like.” Tony said as he pushed off the door frame. “Jet’s ready. Just let me know when you are, whenever you are.”

“Tony.” You called out before he could walk away as your daughter used you as a jungle gym. “Thank you.” He gave you a tight nod and a small smile before he turned and walked away, leaving you to catch up on your memories with your husband.

“So you owned a plantation?” Bucky said, because it was partially news to both of you.

“I inherited it when John passed.” You said with a nod as you wrangled your toddler into your lap. “It’s strange, until I saw that photo, all I could remember of that place was the day I was shot and left. But now, I’m seeing the giant wood burning stove in the kitchen, and the stone fireplace in the parlor. I can see the staircase that ran up the right side of the main hall, that led all the way to the back with this... oh, God it was the most hideous carpet in the world, but it belonged to John’s mother and he loved it.” You scoffed and shook your head as you got up to put Ana in her jammies. “I am not sorry to see that carpet burned down. I wonder if the fire went all the way down to the basement.” You said as you paused at Ana’s dresser and turned around with your brow furrowed. “There’s... there’s something in the basement... I can’t remember...”

“Well, do you want to go look tomorrow?” He asked, pulling you from your thoughts so you could get your daughter dressed. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind seeing this ‘biggest plantation in Georgia’ that my wife owns.”

“It was a big plantation.” You agreed with a huff. “Pain in my rear to work and hotter than all get out most days.”

“Oh, and we’re turning Southern with it.” He laughed as he scooted up on the bed to relax in his spot. “You worked the fields?”

“I did.” You said with a slow nod as you picked up your clothed daughter and walked over to the bed so she could have her night time bottle before bed. “I was a woman before my time back then, and still a Yankee at heart you could say. When John and I married, I convinced him to free our slaves, and made sure they all worked for pay. He was very well off, he could afford it, and they all worked even harder if at all possible once the overseer was let go. But when the war happened, money got a little tight, and we lost quite a few hands to typhoid but the work still needed to be done. So yes, I worked my fields until the war was dropped on my doorstep one night.”

“You know, you get more and more impressive every single day.” He said as he set Tony’s tablet aside to lay down beside Ana so he could look at you. “I am so honored to get to call you my wife, doll.”

“Even though my memories come in snippets and I’m dinosaur old?” You teased as you picked up your notebook to update some past notes.

“Absolutely.” He laughed as he reached across the pillows to rub your back. “Makes you mysterious.”

“OK, we’ll go with that.” You laughed as you handed him the remote so he could put on the ‘Good Night Moon’ show Ana loved before bed while you wrote. You hummed and shook your head as you opened your notebook and clicked on the plantation memories page. “Mysterious, he says. Crazy I say.”

“Go write your notes!”

——

You were glad to see that the massive live oaks lining your driveway were still just as gorgeous as ever, but it absolutely disgusted you to see that your front lawn had been turned into a giant gravel parking lot. A deep growl rolled from your chest, and Steve gently reached over the front seat to grab your wrists, while Bucky put his hand on your knee and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“We can fix it, sweetheart.” Your husband said softly as Happy, Pepper’s assistant, parked his rental car beside the one Tony, Pepper, and their lawyers were in, since parking the jet on your property was apparently not an option. Your growl turned into grumbling as you got out of the car, but turned right back into a much deeper growl when you turned to see a six foot tall, chain link fence around your old home. But all noises simply stopped when you saw your willow tree.

“I’m gunna fucking kill someone.” You said as you ripped away from Bucky and Steve and stormed over to your tree, where a young couple was carving their initials amongst the decades of others, including your and John’s original carvings. “Back the fuck up!” You roared as you let your claws fly just as Steve wrapped his arm around your upper torso and yanked you back.

“Just back away from the tree.” He said quickly to the terrified kids with a shake of his head. “Go on.” The second they were clear, he set you down, and you retracted your claws to walk over and run your fingers over the destroyed wood.

“No...” You said with a shake of your head with tears in your eyes as you looked around until you found the faint, misshapen heart that was almost gone with age, and distorted letters carved by your late husband.

“We’ll see if we can fix it, baby.” Bucky said softly as he touched the small of your back. “Look, the older ones are already fading.” You nodded your head slowly and looked up at the higher names, that were a little less distorted than yours, but were fading as well.

“You must be Mr. Stark.” A peppy older woman in period clothes said as she headed over to the group. “My name is Abigail, I’ll be your guide of the Jackson Plantation...”

“I’m sorry, the what?!” You said as you whipped around to look at her with rage in your eyes, which made Tony step between the pair of you with a tight ‘all business’ smile.

“You’re gunna want to clear the property.” He said evenly with a nod. “Now. For everyone’s safety.”

“Oh! Oh, I’m afraid I can’t do that...” Abigail said as you stormed away from the group to look at a metal plaque on your side of the fence around your house.

“Oh, this is not good.” Bucky said with a shake of his head as you read the lies someone had made up about your house, before you simply ripped it off the post and easily crumbled it in a ball before Steve could get to you.

“Wait, you can’t do that!” Abigail shrieked as you ripped the fence open with more grumbling and headed up to your house with Steve, and Bucky right behind you.

“I’m warning you once more.” Tony said as he simply watched your guide’s horrified expression. “Clear the premises...”

“I’m calling the police!” She cried as she pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her dress.

“I am the fucking police here!” You roared from the front steps as you rounded and glared at her. “This is my fucking land! You are trespassing here!”

“This is property of the National Parks Services...” She tried with shaky hands, which made the Wolf rear her ugly head at the woman’s weakness as a sinister darkness filled your eyes.

“And that’s where you’re fucking wrong.” You said as you slowly walked back down the steps toward her. “This land belonged to my first husband, John William Scott, who was a confederate soldier that died in the war. The plantation, which was named Green Pebble Hill by his aunt, Cecelia Ann Scott MacDonald when she was a child because of the moss covered pebbles in the stream in the back fields by the way, was left to me, (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) Scott, his sole heir because I’m not able to bear children due to my mutation. Find his will, I know he had one. It’s dated May 16th, 1864, the day before he left to join ranks before the war even started.

The house was burned down by Yankee soldiers in July of 1865, four days after I got a letter saying my husband was killed, not by looters in 1868 like your historically inaccurate sign claims. Burned down by men who were instructed to kill me when they found that I was helping both their soldiers and ones of the confederacy. I was shot in the left lung for helping wounded men, no matter what color their coat was, because that is what good people do. But thanks to my mutation, I can’t fucking die! My body just rejected the musket ball as they burned my home to cinders. Now, get these people off my fucking property immediately or you will learn all about the hell I’ve been through the past one hundred and twenty four years since I first learned how horrible people could be just for the fucking sake of it!” She nodded her head frantically as you turned on your heel to head back up to your house, grumbling under your breath. “Stevie, help me with this.” You said as you carefully walked up on the porch again. “There’s a safe in the basement. It has that letter... I think the will...”

“Babe, be careful.” Bucky said as you grabbed a long, charred, weather warn piece of wood that made up part of the wall of your first floor and lifted it up so that your best friend could see a similar piece of wood that was attached to it on the far side of the house.

“OK, I see it.” He said as he jumped down and ran to the other side as tourists began to flood toward the parking lot to leave.

“(Y/N), we can get a construction crew...” Pepper tried, but Bucky quickly looked back and shook his head at her.

“Just leave her. She’s being buried by new memories, and she’s battling the Wolf. No one can stop her right now.” 

“Get ahold of your boss.” Tony said as you and Steve chucked the wood away from the building. “I want contact information to whomever believes they own this land. We’ll be taking it back from them now.” Abigail nodded her head again and continued making phone calls as you and Steve made a path down to the basement that seemed relatively untouched thanks to it’s all stone frame.

“It’s...” You said as you jumped down into the basement after twenty minutes of clearing the rubble of your upper two floors and hesitated. You closed your eyes and tried to picture yourself putting the letter in the safe as Steve jumped down in front of you to help. You turned around in your spot and went through the motions of the memory, before your head shot up and to your left. “Over here. Under some flour sacks.”

“I need a light!” Steve called out as you took a step in that direction but stumbled the slightest bit over a small pile of stones. “Wait, (Y/N). We’re getting a light.”

“Here, Tony said just put it on.” Bucky said as he carefully leaned over the edge and dropped Tony’s Ironman helmet down to Steve. Your best friend held it out to you and you squeezed it on to your head before squinting at the bright screen that popped up in front of you.

“Man, what did I do with only lanterns down here?” You asked yourself as you awkwardly stepped over the stones, around whatever had started to grow in the dark space, and over to the sacks of flour that was your safe’s cover with the help of the night vision from Tony’s suit. Once they were thrown to the side, you picked up the three by three cast iron safe with a grunt, and carried it back over to Steve.

“Alright, hold on. Let me get out first.”

“How do I get this thing off... Oh.” You gasped as the mask opened and shrunk down to sit like a thick necklace. “That works.”

“You find it?” Bucky asked as Steve found solid ground and kneeled down to help. You passed it up to him and climbed out yourself as Tony, Pepper, and his lawyers talked to the cops that came to deal with the ‘disturbance’ with Abigail, her boss, and a pair of local representatives from the National Park Services.

“OK, wait just set it here.” You said as you pointed to the ground by the back steps as you kneeled down beside it. “Shit. When is his birthday? Or was it the day we met.”

“Don’t think of it that way.” Bucky said as he came around to the back of the house to see what was inside this little mystery box. “That’s not gunna help here like it doesn’t help you find your cell phone at home, remember? Walk through the last time you used it like you did in the basement. Picture yourself with the letter in your hand.” You nodded your head and closed your eyes as you held out your hand with the letter in it. “Down the stairs, to the left. You moved those bags and kneeled down. You reached out and turned the dial to...”

“Thirty-two.” You said as you opened your eyes and leaned forward. “Seventeen. Nine. His birthday backwards.” A smile spread across your face as the locked popped open, and the metal door creaked as you pulled it open. “Thank you baby. I never would have remembered that. See, the letter.” You said as you carefully pulled it out and unfolded the telegram. You looked over the slightly faded ink with a small sigh, before wiping off the top of the safe and setting it down. “Oh, look. His will. I didn’t know I had the original. Oh, look at this.” You laughed as you pulled out an old photograph of you on your wedding day. “I made that dress by hand. And this picture took forever to take. Cameras weren’t what they are back then.”

“God, you haven't change a bit.” Bucky said as he sat down beside you to look, as Steve crouched down on your other side.

“I aged like a fine wine.” You teased as you added the photo to the stack. “Oh, and this is John. Oh, sweetheart.” You sighed as you slowly shook your head with a fond smile. “Bless his heart, that man couldn’t grow a beard to save his life.”

“He’s... a lot older than I expected.” Bucky said as he took the photo from your hands, delicately.

“Ten years senior.” You said with a nod as Steve excused himself softly to let Tony know you had the original will. “That was normal back then. I married him when I had just turned seventeen so we were together... like seven years before he passed.”

“Wow.” He breathed as he handed you back the photo.

“What else do we have? Confederate bonds. What’s this? Oh, gold. Could have used that. Oh, my jewelry...” The pair of you sat for another twenty minutes or so, going through old memories and things you had kept safe when John left. You were ecstatic to find the deed to the property along with his father’s will and a couple other documents related to his family.

“OK, I have to say this is blowing my mind a little bit.” Bucky said as you pulled out a pistol wrapped in an old t-shirt to make sure there was nothing left underneath it. “Like... this is your stuff. Not your relatives, yours. You actually touched these documents before today.”

“Gives being older than dinosaurs a whole new meaning, doesn’t it?” You laughed as you started carefully putting everything back in the safe.

“And you own this land.” He said as he looked up at the massive, 2000 acre property in front of him.

“I do.” You said with a nod as you closed the door of the safe. “Legally and soon, officially.”

“Damn.” He said with a shake of his head. “Yea, we’re raising Anastasia here.”

“I’m absolutely OK with that, my love.” You said as you stood up and picked up the safe. “I just have to prove who I am to the US government after spending nearly one hundred years trying to avoid doing just that. That’s gunna be the real fun.”

Part 15

[zukkaoru]

13 + nikonathan, 8 + ultra lemon, 19 + kunichuu, 24 and 33 + ships of your choosing

i offer you: some fluff, some angst, and some nikonathan being extremely unnormal <3

nikonathan + a kiss on the chest

The bathroom mirror is still fogged up from Nathaniel’s shower when Nikolai teleports himself into the bathroom. He waited a respectful thirty seconds after the water shut off, and he did try to open the door, but of course, Nathaniel locked it. As if that would act as a deterrent.

“Hiya, Nathan!” he greets cheerily, only to be met with a yelp and an elbow to the ribs. 

“What on earth are you doing?!” he demands.

Nikolai’s answer comes in the form of him backing Nathaniel against the wall. He has a towel wrapped around his waist. Water droplets fall from his hair and trail down his exposed skin. Nikolai wants to lick them off. Maybe sink his teeth into Nathaniel’s flesh as he does so, mixing water and blood before he devours him whole.

“Nikolai,” Nathaniel growls.

“You are wearing entirely too many clothes,” Nikolai notes. He lowers his head, pressing a kiss to Nathaniel’s neck. Then lower again, until his lips are hovering over Nathaniel’s chest, just above his heart. When he presses them firmly against Nathaniel’s still-damp skin, he can feel the hammering heartbeat beneath.

In a perfect world, Nikolai would tear apart his flesh and feast on the organ hidden within. He would stain himself with Nathaniel’s blood as he gorged on his heart, and then he would lick each of his fingers clean so as to ensure nothing would go to waste.

But as it stands now, Nikolai settles for the kiss. And when he looks up towards Nathaniel’s face, he is pleased to note that it’s flushed blood-red.

-

ultra lemon + a platonic kiss

Kajii blinks “You want to— what?”

“Kiss you,” Ranpo repeats. Like that’s a normal thing to ask of someone you just met two hours ago—someone who is supposed to be your enemy, no less. “I’ve never kissed anyone before, and I’m tired of it. Everyone else at the office has had their first kiss. Even the new kid’s sister, who is still in high school! So if you kiss me, then they won’t be able to tease me anymore.”

“Okay,” Kajii says slowly. He supposes that reasoning makes sense, though there’s bound to be a hundred other people Ranpo could get to kiss him.

“Is that a yes?”

Kajii hesitates. But he isn’t exactly known for making good decisions, and impulsivity has been his best friend for as long as he can remember. So he shrugs and says, “Sure, why not?”

He doesn’t exactly have much experience with kissing himself, but Ranpo doesn’t need to know that.

Ranpo cheers, clapping his hands together. He leans forward eagerly, and Kajii gladly meets him halfway.

-

kunichuu + underwater kiss

Chuuya catapults themself into the pool, jumping off of the diving board and into the cool water below. They swim across the pool, only breaking the surface once they reach where Kunikida is standing along the wall.

“Hey, pretty boy,” Chuuya grins. Kunikida purses his lips like he’s trying to suppress a smile, and Chuuya trails a finger down his chest. “You should come swim instead of just standing around being boring.”

“I’d rather not.”

Chuuya pouts. They reach up, wrapping their arms around Kunikida’s neck. “Please?”

Kunikida hesitates. “My glasses—”

Chuuya plucks them off of his face, then uses their ability to float them safely over to the rest of his stuff. Kunikida furrows his eyebrows, or maybe he’s just squinting because he can’t see much now. It’s hard to tell sometimes.

“Well?” Chuuya prompts.

“Fine. But only for a bit.”

That’s all the encouragement Chuuya needs. They tug Kunikida away from the wall and tell him, “Hold your breath.”

His eyes widen, but he doesn’t get a chance to argue before Chuuya pulls him beneath the surface. They cup his face with both hands, then press their lips against his. For a moment, it feels as if they’re flying, assisted by Chuuya’s ability.

Chuuya thinks they would be perfectly content to live in this moment forever.

-

souheki + a sleepy kiss

Ranpo whines as Dazai starts to pull away from them, grabbing blindly in an attempt to make him stay. Dazai huffs out a laugh.

“Go back to sleep,” he says. “I’m just going to the bathroom.” It’s not the full truth, exactly—Dazai has been lying awake for the past hour and a half, and if he’s left alone with his thoughts for any longer, he’s going to smash his skull against the wall. So he’ll go to the bathroom and then pace around the dorm for a bit and hope that tires him out.

“Nooo,” Ranpo mumbles. “You’re so warm. Don’t leave.”

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Dazai lies. He feels a bit bad, but he knows Ranpo will be passed out again in five minutes. Still, he leans back in and placates him with a kiss.

Ranpo sighs contentedly, loosening their grip on Dazai’s shirt and allowing him to slip away. They snuggle back beneath the blankets, and Dazai presses one last kiss to the side of their head. He allows his lips to linger just a moment too long.

When he pulls back, Ranpo is smiling.

-

nikonathan + kiss to a scar/birthmark/injury/etc

“Nathaniel— Oh.” Nikolai’s breath catches in his throat as Nathaniel’s lips brush against his skin, just above his eyebrow, where the scar crossing his eye begins. The touch is far too gentle, far too soft for whatever it is that exists between them. It’s revolting.

Nikolai might shatter beneath it.

Nathaniel says nothing as his lips drop lower. He kisses his way along the entire length of the scar, cradling Nikolai’s face in his hands. Something harsh and painful and sharp presses against Nikolai’s chest. It splinters his ribcage and digs itself into his heart. It’s horrible and Nikolai wants to drown in it.

When Nathaniel finally finally finally pulls away, his expression is unreadable. Nikolai wants to crack him open, wants to push them back into familiar territory where he is an annoyance and Nathaniel hates so much as looking at him. But his lips stay firmly shut. His voice won’t work.

Nikolai wants to die, just a little.

He’s trapped, pinned in place by Nathaniel’s stare.

For the first time, he understands why Nathaniel only ever looks at him with contempt in his eyes. This disgusting thing that has grown between them has dug its roots too far into Nikolai’s soul. He needs to rip it out. He needs to burn it. He needs Nathaniel gone.

Instead, he tugs Nathaniel into a searing kiss.

[itwaslegendary]

okay here comes a LONGGGGG post about my experience at eras 🫶

———

we arrived yesterday. today in the morning i went have breakfast (a shake and some crepes) and then i went back to the hotel with my friend to get dressed up. after that we went grab the metro to the santiago bernabeu stop because it’s the closest one to the stadium.

when we got down and saw the stadium for the first time (well- second for me) we started freaking out because we were SO CLOSE to actually being IN there.

we first went check out the merch stores, at first i wasn’t going to buy anything but i ended up deciding to get the blue crewneck :,) afterwards we went look for a place to eat. i had a plate of pasta.

then we took some pictures outside (there was an eras tour film poster!!) and during the hour we had until our doors opened we decided to go trade bracelets. my friend ran out of them but because i was a beast and made 60 for 1 night i still have a few left.

i swear to god everyone was SO NICE, which was so refreshing because i’m used to the people in my school which are the closest thing to demons tbh. plus after having been bullied and excluded from all kinds of hangouts it felt so beautiful to feel included and see everyone so warming and friendly. 😭 if i could live at a taylor swift concert i would.

16:00 came and we decided to join our queue because even thought we had assigned seats we wanted to go in asap ! at first i was worried because i had a portable battery and i thought they’d throw it but ig the guard didn’t see it because we got in without any problem! by 16:20 we were in :D

our section was right in front of us but we wanted to check where the bathroom was first. the “field” is not closed so you could kinda see the stage and GUYS we freaked out again because there’s no way to describe what you feel when you see the eras tour stage for the first time because it means you’re THERE. that this is happening and you’re actually going to see taylor perform a 3 hour and a half show with all her eras (except debut but that’s a topic for another day). that the day you’ve been waiting for for so long has finally come. 😭

we talked a lot with a girl in front of us and the two beside us (the seats next to me were empty until way after paramore finished) and they were super nice, we love them 🫶 we traded some other bracelets and took some photos

then paramore came out and hayley was SO GOOD!!!! while they’re not my favorite band they were soooo fun and i knew some songs so i sang along :,) however i was sweating so much and i also needed to go to the bathroom because i had drunk like 5 bottles of water because it was HOT and also i was afraid of dehydration lol. so i had to miss 2 songs so i could go refresh myself.

we kept waiting and here i got mad because after paramore my friend said “i’m going to the bathroom” and i was like ok sure. 20 minutes went by and she was still not here so i got scared thinking i’d lost her, so i went find her…. the minute i crossed the door in ha mood started playing and everyone screamed. my friend was in the queue all nice and was the next to go in, so i got back to our seats and asked one of the girls we’d befriended if the “cleaning cart” had come out and she said yes 😭 i had missed that moment but all fine

my friend came back during applause. the countdown started and we all FREAKED OUT X3 and started counting down screaming from 13 downwards. i filmed my reaction to the intro because while i had seen it a billion times already seeing it live feels SO DIFFERENT (but the video got cut the instant taylor appeared smh). i was trembling and almost crying, for some reason singing along to the intro like it was my job.

… SHE came out. we screamed cried probably fainted too and here i kinda lost myself because i just remember being so excited about the bodysuit (i love purple and the tassels JSKAJ) and thinking like “oh my god she’s there she’s actually there i am seeing her in person she’s so pretty what what wHAT” and screaming miss americana + cruel summer like it was my only purpose in this life.

the crowd was insanely loud so i decided to play it safe and put earplugs on and LORDDDD THE DIFFERENCE taylor sounded SO much better, like you could actually hear her voice clearly and neatly and i got out with no ringing or pain whatsoever. i could sing along quite loudly and perfectly fine without only hearing myself (i only took them out in very specific occasions like illicit affairs and the smallest man who ever lived)

she spoke to us in spanish too 😭 just a few words but “encantada de conoceros” “hola” "vamos!!" “bienvenidos a la eras tour” “muchas gracias” etc. told us how we were being sooo loud and probably the loudest crowd ever!!! she also said that we all made her feel at home here not only in the stadium but also outside <3 (ik she says more or less the same things in every country but shhhh)

the 22 hat kid was ADORABLE he was so excited to get the hat and the interaction was so cute overall <3 during all too well she stopped a second to say that we were singing sooo loud (which from what i’ve seen does not happen too often!) and that this is the loudest she has ever heard this song 💓

during reputation we screamed “in the middle of the night in madrid” andddd we believe that she may have sung it too during the last verse which would be INCREDIBLE and so iconic 😭

in folkmore there was an issue with her guitar (she did not explain what) but it got fixed super quickly. i love small mishaps like these because it makes her look more authentic (?), like closer to the public, makes the atmosphere kinda look like we are all friends in here and she’s just at a cafe with a friend chatting jksja.

she also had to stop twice; once during betty and another during august, because some people in GA needed help. she saw the flashlights and asked (in spanish) the guards and sanitary staff to help. it was so nice to see how much she cares for the safety of her crowds, like you could see during betty how her face changed to a soft expression once she's told that everything was okay 🤍 we also have to thank that the staff in our show was fast and did everything right :)

the champagne problems ovation was adorable, i love in general her reactions because that’s pookie right there. it’s so personal to me how she throws her arms around her head and laughs and says i love you thank you like a hundred times ugh i love her with my whole soul ☹️

1989 was soo fun! (i got the outfit right but wrong order 😭) but the bad blood fires were. pretty noticeable LMFKWOS it was already hot and with then the thing got much hotter but it cooled down quite fast.

TTPD OH MY GODDDDD it’s def my favorite set. loved the choreo the outfits the setlist EVERYTHINGGGGG. i screamed the the smallest man who ever lived sooo loud and the i can do it with a broken heart’s “intro” was so fun too ajdkaj. i loved so high school even if it was just 30 seconds jdka

THE. SURPRISE. SONGS. at first she started talking about how we have been supporting her since the beginning and we knew a debut song was coming. the jump then fall mashup was AWESOME it’s one of my faves from fearless and it fit so well 🫶

for the piano one she said nothing. she just sat and started playing. i knew that i recognized the song but i could not fully realize which song it was until she sang “i’m perfectly fine” and there i lost it. i went blank for 5 seconds and then just SCREAMEDDDDD those lyrics like my life depended on it. i will never hear these 3 songs the same way again 🥹

after those surprise songs i went blank again but this time because the visuals of lavender haze are so beautiful i had to record them. i had to sit down during mastermind because my feet were exhausted… during karma i had a breakdown because it meant that the best day of my entire life was coming to an end, so i was singing along while crying like a little kid.

overall, i would repeat this a billion more times. it was the best night of my life and it has marked a before and after in my life (not exaggerating) and i hope i have the chance to experience these same feelings again for a future tour 🫶

[girltalkcollectives]

What Growing Up as a Girl Really Looks Like (And What I Wish Someone Had Told Me)

I was digging through old diaries the other day (dangerous, I know), and found an entry from when I was 12. I’d written: “I wish I was a boy. Everything seems easier for them.”

And honestly? That hit me hard. Because at 20 now, I understand exactly why my 12-year-old self felt that way. But I also understand something she didn’t — that being a girl, despite everything society throws at us, is actually kind of magical.

Growing up as a girl is complicated. It’s learning to walk the impossible tightrope of “be pretty but not too pretty,” “be smart but not too smart,” “be confident but not intimidating.” It’s being told to “sit like a lady” while watching boys sprawl across their chairs without comment.

I remember the first time I realized being a girl meant being careful. I was 13, walking home from school, when a car full of grown men honked at me. I was wearing my school uniform. Let that sink in.

The unwritten rulebooks started filling up from there: Don’t walk alone at night. Hold your keys like a weapon. Check your backseat. Send your location to friends. Text them when you get home. Smile, but not too much. Be nice, but not too friendly. Exist, but not too loudly.

But here’s what growing up as a girl also means:

It’s the unspoken solidarity when another girl hands you a tampon in the bathroom without you even having to ask. It’s code words with your friends to rescue each other from uncomfortable situations. It’s the way we can communicate entire conversations just through eye contact across a room.

Being a girl means having friendships so deep that no rom-com love story could ever compare. It’s late-night talks that heal your soul. It’s friends who will hype you up in Instagram comments and then cry with you through breakups. It’s the kind of love that society tries to convince us only exists in romantic relationships, but we know better.

I’ve learned that being a girl is strength that doesn’t look like what they told us strength should be. It’s getting back up every time the world tries to tell you you’re too much or not enough. It’s finding your voice even when they try to silence it. It’s taking up space even when they try to shrink you.

We learn early that our bodies are somehow both temples and battlegrounds. We’re simultaneously told to love ourselves but also to constantly improve. Buy this cream, try this diet, wear this, but don’t wear that. It’s exhausting.

But we also learn the power of reclaiming ourselves. Of looking in the mirror and deciding that we are enough, exactly as we are. Of understanding that our worth isn’t in our waist size or our relationship status or our ability to please others.

Being a girl means carrying generations of “despite” in our DNA. Despite the fear, we walk tall. Despite the judgment, we speak up. Despite the limitations, we soar. Despite everything, we rise.

To my 12-year-old self who wished she was a boy: I get it. I really do. But what you didn’t know then is that being a girl isn’t the weakness they tried to convince us it was. It’s a superpower.

Being a girl means being part of the most resilient, supportive, powerful tribe there is. It’s sharing lip gloss and secrets and strength. It’s building each other up when the world tries to tear us down. It’s turning “despite” into “because.”

Because we are girls, we are strong.

Because we are girls, we are resilient.

Because we are girls, we are powerful.

So yes, sometimes being a girl means being careful. Being afraid. Being judged. But it also means being fierce, being loving, being unstoppable.

And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

[z3llous]

𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝔹𝕠𝕪 13 (The End)

Good Boy Masterlist

---

Swirling, writhing, colors, stomach turning.

The sky was an unnatural shade of blue and the birds’ song borderline a scream.

Makino and Shanks wouldn’t notice their existence no matter the tone or volume at which they spoke.

They walked toward a familiar blond, his arms wide open, they ran and fell right through him.

Y/n’s eyes shot open, pain filling their entire back from jolting awake.

“Shhh, don’t move around so much, you’ll open the stitches.” Sanji’s hushed voice retrieved their reeling mind back into reality.

They were in their bedroom, sprawled across Sanji, safe and sound. Everything was fine.

“Are you alright? You seemed stressed in your sleep, so I woke you up.” He said, searching their eyes for something.

“Yeah, just a nightmare.” Y/n sighed resting their head back onto his stomach. “When did we get here?”

“You don’t remember? So you weren’t fully there when you insisted we nap together and I quote ”like two snuggly bugs in a dirty old rug“? Whatever that means.” He tiredly laughed.

“Pfft haha, ow, haha.” Of course they had said something like that.

- - -

Water dripped from the bathroom sink’s facet as they leaned against it’s basin. The back of their shirt pinned up, a pained grunt escaped them as he slowly removed the bandages.

“Sorry, I’m being as gentle as I can.” Sanji whispered, pausing to give them a moment.

“I know, It’s alright. You can keep going.” Y/n said in a hushed breathless tone.

“Alright.” And so he continued.

The cool water cleansing their marred back felt both unpleasantly intense and somehow soothing.

He stared at scrapes, bruises, and stitches as he cleaned. If only he’d been able to do something. If he hadn’t just stood there and watched helplessly, they wouldn’t be suffering like this.

He grabbed their softest towel and dabbed them dry.

��This part is going to hurt the most. Let me know if you need a break. Are you ready?” Sanji said comfortingly as though he wasn’t filled with dread as he picked up the cream.

They took a breathe before answering “Ready.”

He’d just finished cleaning up the supplies and noticed Y/n had been quietly watching him the whole time.

“Are you alright?” He asked gently placing a hand on their uninjured shoulder.

“I think so… Yeah.” Y/n answered tiredly.

As he began to pull his hand away theirs reached up and held it there.

“Don’t go anywhere ok? I’d miss you.” They mumbled looking away from him.

It took him a minute to process what they meant, but he understood.

“Never.” He smiled.

- - -

The sound of pencils scrawling across paper and the teacher droning on and on filled his ears.

School was more boring than he remembered it being. Was it always like this before he met them?

The desk beside him was vacant. No one to pass him silly notes. No one to tell him a weird story as to why they were late. No one to lend him their jacket if it got too cold in the room.

It would be about a week before they sat next to him in class again. At least Sabo and Ace were still there.

- - -

Red, orange, and gold leaves from the nearby tree had drifted onto the roof and crunched under their shoes as they walked over to their special lunch spot.

Ace had detention and Sabo skipped school, so Y/n and Sanji had the whole roof and all the noodles to themselves that day.

“Slow down, you’re going to choke if you keep eating that fast.” Sanji chided softly.

“No, I won’t.” They mumbled, mouth stuffed with noodles.

“Yes, you will and you’ve gotten sauce all over your face from eating like that.” He exaggerated upon noticing a small smudge on their cheek.

He grabbed a napkin from his bag and turned to them. “Swallow that and look at me.” he said with an expectant look.

They slowed down, chewed a bit, and swallowed the way a petulant child would and looked at him.

He gently held their face and wiped the sauce away. “There.” He said satiated now that the mess was handled.

His focus returned to them, their flushed face still held in his hands and eyes wandering anywhere except him.

This is normally the moment when he’d pull away and apologize for getting too intimate with them, but instead he got lost in thought.

When did they start letting me do things like this? I barely sleep at my own house anymore. When we get this close? This is our last year in school, who knows what will happen after. I don’t want it to change, but I can’t avoid it forever.

“Y/n.” Sanji whispered upon breaking out his thoughts.

“Yeah?” they answered confused as to why he was still holding their face, not that they wanted him stop.

“I love you.” He confessed resting his forehead against theirs.

Y/n’s eyes widened as tears welled up and trailed down onto his hands.

“I love you too.” They cried closing their eyes and holding their hands over his.

---

The sound of creaking floorboards underfoot echoed the dusty room. An old photo of a man with a golden mustache and chef hat standing next to a smiling blond boy lay upon a box.

Sanji picked up the photo and placed it aside before opening the box. He shuffled through the contents inside only to find clothes and cooking utensils.

“Not much in this one.” Sanji called out. “Any luck over there?”

“Well -Achoo!- um other than dust, I found a plushie, keys, and a cook book.” Y/n said rubbing their nose with back of their hand.

“Bless you, a plushie?” He said walking over to them.

“Yeah, this lil duck.” They held up a slightly worn, but still quite soft, cream yellowish colored duck plush.

“You found Honey!” He excitedly plucked Honey from them and proceeded to stroke it’s soft fluff with a smile.

Y/n sat there on the dusty old floor of the dimly lit attic admiring the precious smile on their lover’s face. It was the not so glamorous moments they got to spend with him that they loved the most.

“Do you have one?” Sanji asked breaking their trance.

“A plushie? Yeah, Shanks won me a pink bunny at a carnival when I was six. It’s in a small box under my bed.” They answered as they pulled out and began flipping through the old cook book.

“Does this bunny have a name?” Sanji asked as he sat down beside them resting his head on their shoulder to see what recipes they were looking at.

“Taffy.” Y/n said stopping at an orange tart recipe.

“Taffy is a lovely name. Would you mind letting me see this wonderful Taffy when we return, my love?” Sanji said tilting his head on their shoulder to place a kiss on their cheek.

“You just want to put Honey and Taffy together don’t you?” They smirked ignoring his adorable attempt to sweeten up to them in hopes of getting a yes.

“They would look so cute together!” He dramatically whined pulling them closer.

“I’m not so suuure about that~” They teased still not looking him as he nuzzled into them.

“Pleeeease, I’ll make that orange tart you keep staring at.” He pleaded tugging on their sleeve.

“I want to make it with you. Deal?” Y/n said finally looking at him.

“Deal!” Sanji happily buried his face into their neck and placed several kisses.

---

In a dimly lit room toward the back of the Revolution Gang’s base two men fought.

A swing, a kick, a swing, and a dodge, back and forth they went.

“You’re getting pretty damn good at this, Sanji. You might even beat me soon.” Ace huffed between dodging Sanji’s kicks.

“Don’t flatter me quite yet, I still need to work on it.” Sanji said barely avoiding a punch.

“Why did you want to learn to fight so badly?” Ace laughed throwing another punch.

“So Y/n won’t have to fight alone again.” Sanji said catching himself after swiftly leaning left.

“Ah, so it’s about that hallway scuffle, huh?” Ace frowned grabbing Sanji’s leg, preventing him from landing a kick.

“That too.” He kicked off Ace’s grip. “They need someone who has their back.” His foot rushed past Ace’s head. “Both in fighting and in heart.” another kick faster then before grazed Ace’s side. “So I have to step it up!” A final swift powerful kick landing dead center into Ace’s lower stomach.

Ace knelt down in pain and promptly laid back on the floor. “That’s a good reason.” He wheezed.

---Later that day---

Ace stared intensely at the cards in his hand, before placing one down. His breath held as he watched Sanji choose a card from his own hand.

Sanji had made his choice, laying his card on top of Ace’s. “I win.” He said as he dropped his cards and leaned back in his chair with a smirk.

“No! You can’t just keep winning!” Ace groaned tossing his cards on the table.

“I can and I will.” Sanji said before he placed a cigarette in his mouth and pulled out the lighter Y/n gifted him for his birthday.

The door slammed open and Y/n rushed in.

“We’re under attack! Sabo and Marco have the front entrance covered.” Y/n yelled coming to an abrupt halt at their table.

“Alright, I got the armory. You two cover the back entrance.” Ace said experienced in with situation.

“Will do!” Y/n grabbed Sanji’s hand and off to the back they went.

When they’d arrived two rival gang members had just entered only to get a fist and a foot to the face.

Soon more poured in and the fight began.

Sanji’s low swift kick tripped one over to be met with an uppercut from Y/n.

“Wonderful timing, dear!” He cheered shortly before he kicked a guy between the legs.

“Never late for you, San-chan!” Y/n laughed after they landed a gut punch and then turned to punch another in the nose.

Through out the fight the lovers had drawn physically closer to cover each other’s weak spots.

From the corner of his eye Sanji saw one approach Y/n from the side while they were busy with another. He made a quick turn raising his leg as high as it could go right over their shoulder to kick the fiend in the head.

“Damn Sanji, I didn’t know you were so flexible~” They teased as they grabbed an annoyance by the face with one hand to keep them distracted while they gently lifted his leg from their shoulder where it was stuck with the other.

“One has to be flexible when it comes to you, love~” He said as he prepared himself for the next who dared approach them.

One by one the enemy went down and eventually retreated with their injured.

---3 hours later---

Everyone including Sanji, Y/n, Ace, and Sabo had gotten patched up. Since it had gotten late, the Revolution Gang’s night time members had arrived to swap out. Y/n and Sanji had taken that as the perfect opportunity to head back to what had become their apartment.

Exhausted the two collapsed on the bed and just laid there for a bit. After a few minutes Y/n rolled over on top of him with a giggle. He lightly grasped the folds of their shirt near their waist.

“That was quite the fight earlier, didn’t think the good boy had it in ‘em~” They cooed as they played with the collar of his shirt.

“Well of course I do, I’m not just any good boy. I’m yours~” Sanji smiled looking up at them with a half-lidded infatuated gaze.

“Yeah, you are~” Y/n breathed as they leaned down and caught his lips with theirs.

---End---

Tags: @vemuabhi

@vission-kid

[ziggyevenstar]

just me trying to sit with my feelings, no matter how inconsequential these feelings may be 💛

So, I found out Greta Gerwig’s being eyed to take on at least two Narnia films, and I don’t know why I feel so bad about it. Before anything, I’d like to preface this by saying this isn’t me trying to gatekeep just for the sake of gatekeeping. This is me saying this is how I feel, and me trying to have a more curious, open and kind approach towards working on my feelings. After all, there’s nothing niche about liking Narnia.

I was in my first year of high school when I chanced upon in the school library a complete set of The Chronicles of Narnia. I picked up The Magician’s Nephew and ended up picking up every next book every week after. I loved the series when people my age called it “books for children” (even though at the time we were literal children). I loved the series when all the reactions I got were mostly, “Narnia, as in the children’s movie?”.

By now I understand that people have grown and matured, and when asked about Narnia today they would probably say something about how it was a part of their childhood. I’m sure it was. And I’m glad that we collectively have good opinions about it, and that it’s one of the fantasy series that mark the childhood of our generation. But Narnia to me was how Harry Potter was to some people. I loved it deeply, obsessively, and insanely.

At the risk of sounding like a “gatekeeper”, is it really so bad to think that while I acknowledge people’s love and appreciation towards Narnia to be genuine, I also think that naturally, Narnia will never mean to some what it means to me?

Some people say Narnia was a part of their childhood— but I was 13 years old making scrapbooks about Cair Paravel. They say they loved the films— but I was spending afternoons drawing, writing or making up stories in my head about spending time in Aslan’s Country. I was spending weekends crying in the bathroom because the trees no longer dance, the Telmarines took over— because they all had to go home again and again, yet not everyone could go home in the end. They say they love it still— but I was 20+ years old when I cried when my sister bought me a complete set of the books.

There simply are differences in how we’ve experienced Narnia. Because some people weren’t 13 experiencing hyperfixation for the first time, they weren’t 13 discovering their gateway books leading them to their obsession/love of Fantasy. The Chronicles of Narnia is what got me reading books. And while I actually had the annoying “I liked it first” gatekeeper personality in high school towards Twilight, Percy Jackson, and The Hunger Games (bec I really would find out about them first & like them first in every class I was in 😎 hahaha)— with Narnia, I am protective simply because it felt like therapy to me when it was just a children’s movie to some. I am protective over Narnia because in here I was a lonely freshman who barely spoke and didn’t have friends among her classmates yet, but in there I had magic and Mr. Tumnus and Lucy and Aslan. I was possessive over every other fixation, but with Narnia (and Star Wars), I feel protective.

And I feel like if these films do come out, we will all love them. But even then, there will always be this time when the only exposure we have to Narnia are the disney movies and the books, and some of us experienced them on a much, much more consolatory and neurotic level.

Some people loved the films and devoured the books; The films filled me with love, and the books devoured me.

Some people loved Narnia, but it consumed me.

[xxxdrummysdaughterxxx]

i opened up. about everything (sorta). for the first time in years the other day

i was talking to an old friend about a tattoo i’m getting to cover old sh scars and i told him i was a fucking mess. and he asked me what happened that fucked me up. SO I TOLD HIM. only my husband and therapist ever knew anything about it.

i’ve decided to open up about it here… so be nice.

when i was 13, 2 weeks before starting my freshman year in august, i was raped. this ruined all of my future relationships. i said no, but it didn’t matter. i started cutting to help numb the pain. i told my friends it was consensual. it wasn’t.

i turned 14 in september and in october one of my best friends committed suicide. i was devastated. i stopped eating and developed an eating disorder and starting cutting more. i didn’t recognize myself anymore.

personal hygiene was nonexistent to me. i didn’t want attention, i didn’t want to be touched again. other kids complained (OBVIOUSLY.) so i took more time on hygiene-just enough to go to school.

a few months later i was assaulted on a school bus. i told my best friend and opened up about the first time and being raped. she told my mom. my mom called the school and I WAS BLAMED. i should have gotten help when it happened, i should have made it a big deal. i was on an elementary bus, with tiny humans. but i should have made a scene. it was never “he shouldn’t have done that to you. i’m so sorry”

i started taking pills on top of everything else. i just wanted an escape. i attempted suicide. i wanted it to end.

then i met the first boy i fell in love with. the boy who ruined me. i started acting out sexually since i couldn’t be invisible. we started sleeping together. it went on for 2 years.

i wasn’t getting better, i was just hiding. i wasn’t eating, i was cutting, i was smoking and taking pills. anything i could to escape, to feel nothing.

i pushed everyone away. i didn’t need help, i was fine! i could control it.

i never dated in high school because my trust was completely gone. i didn’t want to be alone with another boy. until i started dating my husband.

after we graduated, he left with the military for a few months. the best guy friends i had all 4 years had also turned their backs on me. whoever said guy friends are less drama fucking lied. so i started getting really good at hiding everything. i was working-i didn’t need to eat at home. i was getting high more and more, hardly ever sober.

when my grandfather died (october after i graduated. literally on the 4th anniversary of my best friends suicide) i realized i needed help. i wasn’t okay. i went into therapy. finally someone could help me!! wrong.

my mother (who thinks she knows everything) was called into a session where my dr diagnosed me with BPD. my moms exact words were “everyone’s borderline as a teenager” but i believed my mom!! i started lying to my therapist. to my family. to my boyfriend. I WAS FINE!

until i wasn’t fine.

i cut too deep one morning. i was fighting with my boyfriend over something stupid and told him i wasn’t okay. i was having a mental breakdown or panic attack or something.

when i was cutting i would black out. i couldn’t feel anything so i’d end up with a ton of cuts. i didn’t stop til i could feel it again. but this time was different. i wanted to die. in that moment i just wanted everything i was feeling for so long to just end.

i cut too deep. i sunk to my bathroom floor. i started passing out from the blood loss. something in me told me to stay awake. fix this. i tried calling my boyfriend (yes i married him, he’s better now) and told him i need to go to the hospital and he ignored me. he said he was busy. i was drifting in and out so i called my best friend and told her. she rushed to my house (this was like 730am) in her pajamas and spent the entire day with me, took me to the hospital to get stitches. helped me. that night my boyfriend called me and apologized. i could have died and he didn’t care. it took a long time for us to get better after this.

i didn’t get better until i was 19 and found out i was pregnant with my son. i started going back to therapy to keep us both alive. she explained what BPD was and it made so much sense. the self harm, manipulation, unstable relationships etc etc. everything i felt finally explained.

my son saved my life. had i not gotten pregnant with him, i’d probably be dead. i wouldn’t have him or my 2 amazing girls. i wouldn’t have fixed my relationship and been with him for almost 10 years.

after 14 years i am finally covering my past.

[crazedlunatic]

It’s All Going To Be Okay

“It’s okay. Brady will calm down soon.”

“Uggggh.” Bob looked up at the ceiling fan the day after Brady had totaled his car. “This is what I get for the alpaca, isn’t it?”

Sarah let out a loud giggle.

“No, though.” Bob said. “Charlie never acted like this.”

“Charlie’s like you but nicer.”

“Why do you always talk about us when we’re not in the room with you?” Sam asked. Then he looked up from his phone and said, “What do you say about me?”

“There’s not much to say about you because you’re always playing your games.” Sarah gave him a look a look. “Only you were out there playing basketball all the time.”

“Yeah and I’m so good I got a full ride… also, that coach is who suggested I apply for it has his own--. No. We’re talking about your son.”

“The sun who has your of seeing outside of the fast lane. I told you when he was 13 and starting to act out. Then you tried to hide stuff to not cause a fig—you know what? I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“You clearly do if you’re still standing there.” Sam singsong. “I’m taking notes for the Colloway Weekly Crappy Newspaper That Doesn’t Exist.”

“Don’t be like Charlie.” Bob pointed at Sam.

“Hey. That’s like telling him to not be like me.” Sarah scoffed.

“I’m just saying. You all set me up for failure by getting pregnant again.”

Bob repeatedly banged his head against the fridge and let out a frustrated groan.

“Get over the car.” Bob’s dad said coming into the room slowly.

“Dad, you’re not—”

“Ah, shut up. You aren’t your mom.” Bob’s dad let out a loud laugh. Seconds later Bob’s mother walked in. “What about mom?”

Sarah shrugged and Bob refused to make eye contact.

“I actually think Dad’s more like you, Gramma.”

“Nah. He’s a hybrid.”

“No. They’re shitty. Gotta wait another five years and see if they get better.” Sarah teased.

“Ready to go to the bathroom?” Bob asked quietly after going over to his dad.

“Yep.”

Bob then stood looking at the ceiling.

“Bet you’ll be glad to not have to do this anymore?” His father said in a joking way.

“Well there has to be a con to being the most attractive.” Bob joked.

“I’m sorry you’re here now but I really was hoping you’d still go to the school you wanted to. I know Mama was very against it.”

“It’s okay, Dad. I wanted to do it… and I needed to. It would have happened anyway. I’d be taking time off.”

“I’m talking to Jake’s dad. Getting him to take out that undated clause. It’s going to go half way between you and Mallory.”

“I don’t need to know, Dad. Let them have it.”

“You two are the only two who deserves it.”

Bob finally looked down, his eyes teary.

“Make sure you give the kids the money in their trust funds as well. I listed an empty two since you all can’t seem to procreating.”

Bob, who had teary eyes, let out something between a laugh and a cry.

“Stop working yourself to death. You’ll regret not spending time alone with them. Don’t live with regret… your mom will probably not want to go to that big city so please keep an eye on her. Please eventually ask her to come back. She’ll leave but she’ll want to come back and stay with you all.”

Bob, not able to respond, just nodded.

How did you react to this?

“Also don’t get yourself murdered, alright? I’m not sure you’ll get to heaven.” His dad laughed a bit as Bob helped him get situated on his feet.

“Daddy, are you telling me it’s coming soon?” Bob swallowed.

“I’m exhausted. My head and my body are exhausted.”

“Dad… are you going make it to come to New York?” Bob sounded like a little kid.  

“I don’t think so.”

“Robbie! Blaine’s here!” His mom called up the stairs.

Bob went down the stairs with him carefully, ready to catch him if needed.

“Robbie, it’s all going to be okay.”

“Is it?”

[theartofgrowingblog]

to those i used to know

I had a best friend all throughout high school. I won’t say her real name, so we will call her Holly. Holly and I were joined at the hip. At school events, we would huddle together on the bleachers, making fun of whatever happened or laughing at videos on our phones. We played the Sims and pretended like we knew how to do makeup. Lana Del Rey’s “Born To Die” album was the soundtrack of our teen years.

We met for ice cream last month. I wore an outfit I never would have dared to in high school. I drove my own car there and listened to Lana Del Rey for nostalgia. I hadn’t seen her in three years, not since our high school graduation. 

I remembered it. I had been an online student for my entire senior year because my mom is immunocompromised and I am an introvert. I also had no friends to spend the senior year with. So why would I bother? Everyone thought I had just homeschooled instead and was surprised to see me at graduation. I got a picture with a few of the people I remained acquaintances with and we talked about Dungeons & Dragons. 

I saw Holly there. I wasn’t quite myself yet, so I didn’t talk to her. I was scared that we had ended on bad terms I was not aware of, so I went to see my family instead.

She reached out to me early this year. We had brief exchanges of ‘you look great’s or ‘I love that game’s, but hadn’t had a real conversation in four years.

So we met for ice cream. It was awkward at first. We didn’t know how to talk to each other anymore. I am not 16 years old. I am nearly 21. 

I’m proud of her still. She has grown, just like I have. She is not 16 years old. She is 21. She is doing good things with her life. She has a good support system. She has fun. She has grown without me. And I am proud of it rather than sad.

We are planning on hanging out again soon. I had to re-give her my phone number. Maybe we can get to know each other as adults.

My childhood best friend was a girl named Taylor (not really, but you get the gist). We met when I was the new kid in third grade. I’d just transferred from a tiny public school to a sizable county school. I didn’t know anyone. I sat at lunch with a girl I didn’t know that well and moved seats when she puked on my sneakers.

I don’t remember how me and Taylor started hanging out, but we were fast friends. We basically lived at each other’s houses. Her grandmother was like my own. I tried Starbucks for the first time with her. That’s a big deal for a basic white girl like myself.

We went through a lot together, but we remained the strongest of friends. Most pictures of me between age 9 and age 13 have her in them in some way. We always made sure we were in the same class (her grandmother worked at the school, so we did utilize a bit of nepotism). 

We talked about boys and tried to learn to do makeup and painted each others’ nails. We played stupid long games of truth or dare. We were basically sisters. We couldn’t wait to get older and be able to go out by ourselves. We were girls together.

She has a baby now. I sent her a gift when he was born, but had to text her grandmother to ask for her address. We haven’t seen each other since 8th grade.

I decided it wasn’t cool to hang out with her anymore, since a more popular girl wanted to be my friend. She ate lunch with a mutual friend for about a month before transferring schools.

I didn’t feel guilty about what I did until a similar thing happened to me. It wasn’t a good thing to do. I know that. I was thirteen, but I knew better.

She seems like a wonderful mother. I’ve never met her son, but he is adorable and has the cutest chubby cheeks. I hope he liked the toy I sent him.

I have another friend, let’s call her Melanie. Melanie was my soul sister in ninth grade. We just clicked. We spent the night together and watched Riverdale and went to the mall together (unattended!). We took selfies in school bathrooms and she would help me fix my hair in seventh period. 

Being 14-years-old is hard enough as is, but having Melanie helped me more than she knows. She moved to Indiana the next year. I missed her so much, and we messaged and kept up with each other through Facebook and Snapchat. 

She still texts me “happy birthday” and sends me the Snapchat memories she gets of us. 

“Omg, we were babies!” was my most recent response to a picture of us with a very dated dog filter on. 

My saving grace in 11th grade was a boy I’ll call Devin. Devin was my best friend when I needed it most. I was the most alone I’d ever been. Holly and I weren’t talking anymore and I would either skip lunch in the bathroom or eat with my favorite teacher. We had mutual friends, but he noticed when I disappeared from the lunchroom. He started eating in the classroom with me. He would bring his Nintendo Switch and he would always beat me in Smash Bros. He tried to teach me how to play Yu-Gi-Oh! and I never caught on. We came up with a Dungeons & Dragons campaign. Devin helped me beat the permeating loneliness of being friendless in high school.

Devin and I don’t talk anymore. I ran into him in the university union the other day and it was distant.

I still carry pieces of every person I have ever known. I still play the Sims because Holly showed it to me. I eat Tostino’s Pizza Rolls because I tried them for the first time with Taylor and we loved them. I still have the perfume I bought while at the mall with Melanie. I play as the character that I made for Devin’s D&D campaign.

I crack jokes that old friends made first. I massage a popcorn bag before putting it in because a girl I went to elementary school with said that it gets butterier that way. I keep Marco’s ranch in my refrigerator just in case my best friend Brooke comes by and wants some. I hate ranch. I read text out loud in movies and TV shows because my mom can’t see it well from the couch. I didn’t even notice I did it until my boyfriend told me it’s cute when I do. 

I am more than myself. I am a mosaic of all that have loved me and all that will love me. When I hate myself, I hate the combination of thousands of years of love. When I get aggravated at something I do, it’s probably something I gained from an old friend or a distant relative. 

I am me because someone loved me.

[hopelessromanticstrawberry]

unboxing my sexual traumas for a moment—

Men, do so much to hurt us. It’s terrifying.

The first time I remember being sexually assaulted I was 13/14, my first boyfriend. he had been cheating on his cool high school gf with me, we were both in middle school, I didn’t even know about her existence until a year in. I didn’t do social media, I had a flip phone, I was naive and a boy other girls liked was interested in me— a wallflower— the best part? he was neighbors with my best friend and I loved going to her house, id stay there for days at a time and never got sick of it. they would come over sometimes and we all became best friends. for the first time a group of people called my family’s landline asking if it was okay one of their moms came to get me. I’d never been so.. wanted. ironically, my girl best friend ended up betraying our friendship to long term date one of these boys in our old friend group, they still all hangout today im sure.

it started simply enough, he kissed me, and I wanted to kiss him. I was excited to explore, but to be fair after being raised in Texas I was ashamed of sex and scared of it too. I wanted to be a pure girl who fell in love once and married and had a beautiful picture perfect family. We would kiss for hours, and even though he wasn’t the best kisser my assumption was that he just didn’t know how and we’d learn together. I didn’t know he’d been having sex with this high school girl and was planning to do all that on me. He became more forward after about 2 or 3 months but to me?? this was like serious, I felt like I was in love bc it was my first boyfriend. He liked to play music and so did I, he was outgoing and on the football team, he was really tall. Middle school me ate this shit up!!! Now, im only describing in this way to really show how I felt at the time to drive home how traumatizing naive and disillusioned I was……

He becomes more forward, more controlling, very quickly. He accuses me of cheating, tries to make me feel weird or guilty for stuff that was normal. He would then lead into sex stuff during arguments or tender moments. Everything was just like his opportunity to try to fuck me. When I finally told him “no” I wanted to be dating for at least a year before I had sex, I wasn’t ready, I wanted something romantic and slow blooming. I wanted to feel like it was worth it to give it up. Then he became cruel, physically assertive and constantly fighting me. Locking me in the house so I couldn’t leave. I don’t remember if he screamed but im sure he was, I just remember being choked a lot and insulted. I remember crying when he held me down and felt down my pants and under my bra. It felt ticklish and uncomfortable, I didn’t want it not like this. I would have bruises all over my arms, I started to cut myself, I threatened to leave him, he would tell me about other girls he was talking to and cheating on me with and said it would all end if I’d just fully penetrative fuck him. He would try to take my clothes off and wrestle me, ultimately end up choking me and giving me a panic attack. I’d lock myself in the bathroom, he’d take my phone from me and threaten to break it. I ended up breaking up with him over text after he blew my mom up telling her abt my self harm and I was going to kill myself bc I didn’t reply to his text within 30 minutes while I did homework, I remember her opening my door and asking if I was okay and she told me what he’d done. I replied and called him a psycho. Told her block his number. He sent me photos of cuts telling me he was cutting himself bc of me. Back then I cared I pleaded with him no don’t kill youself, he said I only won’t if you date me again. I dated him for 7 months total. I don’t even remember how we broke up, I know I did it, I remember him shoulder checking me in the hallways at school after and talking shit to everyone about how I was a bad lay. He continued to stalk me until years later actually, messaging my hot tatted boyfriend when I was 19 all these threats of hurting him and hurting me. He blew my Snapchat up with threats and I don’t know if it was bc he was on drugs and never forgot me or what??? It was obsessive and psychotic. How many years did he think abt me to stalk me so many years later. Even when I was 22 I got a gmail notification he was trying to follow my old account.

And the worst part? That’s all I remember. I’m sure there was more, I know he never penetrated me but he would choke me, push me, threaten me, and grope me. stalked me. Idk

In hindsight it was mostly so upsetting bc I was so young, my next abusive boyfriend really beat him out though bc he’s the one who actually raped me on repeat.

[sleepydelights]

Tw: menstruation, period talk, blood, trauma, CSA, miscarriage

I’ve never had a ‘normal’ period in my life. I got my period when I was 11, a random day in 6th grade. It was before school and my 15 year old sister was curling her hair at the mirror when I sat to pee and discovered the cannon event.

I showed my sister and she handed me a box of tampons, saying “Good luck” as she walked out of the bathroom. That began my lonely journey with my period. My sister didn’t do anything wrong here. We were both victims of daily psychological, physical, and sexual abuse from a stepfather. We didn’t speak about it but we both knew it was happening. That’s a long story I’m sure I’ll get into another time, but I just want it known my sister’s inability to help me with my period wasn’t her fault and I do not blame her.

Because of the abuse happening behind closed doors, I developed a raging amount of shame concerning my genitals. I was also afraid. My sister had already conceived and had a child at 13/14 as a result of the abuse and I was afraid I was next. As much as I feared and hated my period, seeing it was a relief. But I didn’t know how to properly manage it. I’d had no sexual education and no resources.

My abuser had told me that if I ever let it get out what he was doing, he’d kill my whole family and then me. That kind of threat to a child is so powerful and it worked on me so well that I didn’t tell my mom I’d gotten my period. I thought she would somehow know what was happening to me and the secret would get out and she would die.

I couldn’t ask for menstrual products, I couldn’t buy them for myself. I had to steal from my sister or resort to less than sanitary options. Then one day my mom found my stash of dirty underwear after wondering why she hadn’t washed any of mine in some time.

Thank goodness her finding out about my period didn’t lead her to discover the truth, I always thought. But at least I got the period talk and learned about products and could then ask for them when I needed them. But a lifelong feeling of shame and grossness has always been attached to my period.

I often wonder how many times I possibly conceived during the two more years of abuse that persisted after my first period. There’s no way of knowing but I do believe havoc was wreaked upon my reproductive system that lead to me having a worse than average period experience. Heavy unmanageable flow, cramps that rip through my entire abdomen, forcing me into a huddled mass of tears, back pain like I’ve never known it. 9/11/01 was the only day where it was perfectly acceptable to lay my head on my desk in 7th grade math and just sob.

We escaped our abusive situation when I was freshly 13. Shortly after, our abuser found a way to get to us and my sister and I realized the only way to stop him was to finally tell our mother what had been happening. Following that conversation (again details for another day, I’m getting distracted here), we immediately went to the police station and then victims clinic.

I had my first pelvic exam. I was nervous but I wasn’t afraid. These were women. Women had never hurt me, these women weren’t going to hurt me. They didn’t, but their sadness and discomfort was palpable to me and I didn’t understand it. I thought I had done something wrong. I thought there was something wrong with me.

I found out many years later that there was damage there and many more years later that it was my story and not my genitalia that made them uncomfortable.

They couldn’t help me with my period problems. Because of that I felt like maybe I was just being a baby about it. Surely everyone who had a period went through this? Fast forward.

I bled through my entire junior year of college. Read that again. The ENTIRE year. It’s a wonder I didn’t fail out. I spent probably hundreds of hours that year just doing physics homework in the bath because boiling hot baths were the only thing that brought any kind of relief to my confusing parts. One day, I guess my friends had finally had enough of my complaining and I get it. How long can you really sit around watching someone you care about shooting themselves in the foot and whining about the pain? With love and encouragement they convinced me to see a gynecologist. Why hadn’t I done so up until that point? I could give a million reasons and they’d all come off as an excuse. But to put it simply: trauma and cost.

I saw a wonderful gynecologist who immediately but gently asked “How long have you had that going on?” Turns out I’d had a massive lipoma on my right labia majora caused by blunt force trauma. I’d been going through life thinking I just had to add wonky labia flaps to my list of not cool things about me.

That unleashed a whole flood of feelings I wasn’t ready for and she got me set up with a therapist and a surgeon and some birth control. I took the birth control and did the therapy and got the surgery. The surgery was fantastic. Morphine? 10/10 would do again. The therapy sucked. And the birth control stopped my period which I loved but then I found myself trying to decide if I should drive my car into that brick wall or that group of people. I’d always had thoughts of hurting myself but the thoughts I had of hurting others really scared me and I quit taking the birth control.

Eventually my therapist convinced to get on a non-hormonal birth control and it really helped. For the first time ever my period, at least in terms of regularity, was normal. Fast forward, made a mistake with the Nuvaring. Didn’t know I was pregnant until I was in the ER miscarrying. I was able to conceive again (years later and on purpose this time haha), but after I had my child my periods been going haywire.

I am on day 4 today of my first period in 6 or 7 months and it’s been the most physically intense one of my life. In the days leading up to it, I know I felt off. If I could have simply known it was PMS or PMDD or whatever the fuck it is, maybe I wouldn’t have had such a hard confusing time. Maybe I wouldn’t have done or said certain things. But I did and I have to live with that. I know I need help. I think my lived experiences and anxiety-driven decisions have lead me to this point but I don’t have to be stuck here. I’m tired of letting myself be a victim.

[littlemisssunshineshair]

answers

1. nothing atm

2. i was 16. he bit my lip. it was horrible. i had my eyes open for most of it.

3. too many. i usually make them based off of feelings that i feel or a particular vibe certain songs make me feel. like, i will make a playlist that sounds like summer to me or spring

4. baking. i burn everything i cook and i get it from my mom 😖

5. watching kids shows lol. last night i was watching my little pony because it brought me comfort shhhh

6. i try not to regret things. i try to learn from my mistakes and keep it moving. you can always make it better by choosing to learn from your mistakes.

7. andrew garfield. he’s a cutie. what can i say.

8. english and a little bit of spanish, but not a lot 🙂‍↕️

9. in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. amen. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been ten years since my last confession. I confess that I never paid attention in CCD. Forgive me.

10. that’s so hard. but i think it might be the bell jar. the book changed my life

11. i don’t know. it changed so often. i think i wanted to be an author the most, though.

12. i have two little dogs and i love them so much.

13. i am the oldest of three girls.

14. 5’6

15. my boobs. they are too small 😔

16. pie day 🥧

17. saying “YOLO” in 2012 unironically and owning a t-shirt with the letters in bright neon colors AND WEARING IT IN PUBLIC

18. an education

19. yes when i was 19 🫢

20. nope

21. “Modern Love” by David Bowe or any song from the Frances Ha soundtrack evokes very happy memories for me, or “Walking on Sunshine” by Katrina and the Waves because it reminds me of childhood and it was my favorite song as a kid

22. “My Way” by Frank Sinatra. I cannot hear that song without crying because they played it at my uncle’s funeral when i was a kid and it was very traumatic

23. face time

24. i don’t have a partner but if i did i’d like being called my love, love, or lovey

25. i don’t believe that everyone should be expected or pressured to talk about their political beliefs on social media if they don’t have all the facts or if they don’t feel well-informed enough. sometimes everyday, regular people help causes outside of social media and don’t always share how they contribute to causes because they have a small platform or they don’t want to share misinformation.

26. yes but it depends on the person and the circumstances always

27. i’m strong, i’m kind, and i’m true to myself

28. i thought i would never have the guts to go to film school to become a director because i thought i couldn’t do it

29. i think the older i get, the more i feel like my childhood self, except i’m a lot wiser, and more discerning when it comes to the people i allow into my life and i’m so much more comfortable in my own skin. when i was growing up, i always changed myself for others and im glad i know myself now

30. I met Phillip Phillips when he was on American Idol and I also met Patricia Kelly (Gene Kelly’s wife) at one of Gene Kelly’s musical awards for high schoolers. i remember it so vividly. she asked me where the bathrooms were and she introduced herself. we bonded over our names and she shook my hand with her purple leather gloves on and she was wearing a fabulous purple leather dress. my brain didn’t register that it was Patricia Kelly and after she left, my mom whispered to me, “that’s Gene Kelly’s wife,” and i was like 😶

31. what is your favorite movie?

Beauty and the Beast (1991), not the shitty remake

Really Get To Know Me

Threw together a small list of questions to ask to get to know everybody better.

What do you do for work?

Tell me about your first kiss.

What playlists do you have on your phone?

Do you like cooking or baking more?

Guilty pleasures?

Something you regret.

Celebrity crush?

How many languages do you know?

Make a confession.

What's your favorite book?

What was your childhood dream job?

Do you have any pets?

How many siblings do you have? Are you oldest, middle, or youngest?

How tall are you?

What's something you're insecure about?

When is your birthday?

Embarrassing memory?

What's the most expensive thing you've ever bought?

Have you ever had a one night stand?

Have you ever been caught doing the do?

A song that evokes a good memory?

A song that evokes a bad memory?

Do you prefer phone calls, facetime, or texting?

Your favorite pet name from your partner? (baby girl, honey, brat, etc.)

What's a controversial opinion you have?

Do you believe in second chances?

3 things you love about yourself.

What is something you are sure you'd NEVER do?

How different is your actual adult self from how you pictured it when you were little?

Have you ever met a celebrity?

Free Pass! (Ask whatever question you want to know that's not on the list)

[dirtanddistance]

Bill's Beer Run Race Report

Date: 29 October 2023

Location: Casey Key, Florida

It’s been said before that you can never go home again. Nothing is ever quite the same, including you. On the other hand, I would suggest that this is a cynical take that only looks at the merits of being able to return to something wholly static. As I learned this past weekend at Bill’s Beer Run, you can go home and find yourself grounded in all that has changed since you were last there.

I’ll begin this race report with the disclaimer that I have not run it since I was perhaps in high school. At least 13 years ago. I certainly was not running with my brother then, and my mom could still beat me on a good day. Dad was alive, and largely uninterested in road races (or cross country races, or track races - to be fair, these are not spectator-friendly events). Walking into the New Balance store near the bridge to the beach with my mom and brother was like walking into a place frozen in time; the merchandise on offer had changed, but the store itself was ever the same, as were the faces of the volunteers checking us in. Friendly faces from a different lifetime asked where I lived now, excitement growing in their eyes as they told me how much they’ve always wanted to visit Vancouver. We drifted off to the Mellow Mushroom nearby for dinner, another place seemingly untouched by the passage of years since I had last been inside. I wasn’t entirely sure when I was here last or with whom. I can still remember the first weekend of October 2018 when my dad and I sat in the patio section, splitting a veggie pie; he told me about his Parkinson’s diagnosis with his cane (a new accessory) perched against the table as though I’d never have guessed anything had gotten worse since we’d last met. Being in the Sarasota Mellow Mushroom is not a glum experience for me, despite that memory. Weirdly enough, I consider this place to have some weird energy that somehow brings my family closer whenever we are there. I digress, however; this is supposed to be a race report and musing on the passage of time, not a deep dive into my experiences in a local chain restaurant.

The weirdest part of this race is the complete staticness of the course. Bill’s Beer Run has a very straightforward format; you run 2.5 miles, turn around, and run back. The start and finish line has been in precisely the same place since the dawn of time. The scenery of houses and hotels and occasional glimpses of the beach look identical year in and year out. They claim that there is a ‘hill’ at one of the curves in the road; however, after living outside of Florida for more than 15 seconds I can arrogantly confirm that this is not, in fact, a hill but rather an excuse for a disappointing split. Running it 10 years ago or one week ago is the exact same experience visually and physically. You drown in the humid air whether you are acclimated to it or not. I imagine whoever ran the first one had a nearly identical experience to mine last weekend. The flora and fauna of Florida are also very static. Palm trees and scrubby plants that hardly budge and have no seasonal alter-egos stande firm through storms and hurricanes line the way and contribute to the sense that parts of Florida must exist outside of time itself.

The last time I ran this course as basically a child, I was with my mom. Running a race with my mom during her racing prime was one of the most obsessive experiences a human being can ever have during their mortal coil. You arrive at the location no less than 1+ hours before the starting time. Back in the day of race-day packet pick-up, you would need to be at that check-in desk at opening time and not a moment later. Numerous trips to the bathroom would occur, with much hemming and hawing about when to head to the start line (at least 20 minutes before start time) and how much water to drink before the final trek over. There is absolutely no science to any of these decisions. Once I went away to college, I was finally able to work out that this plan was actually absolutely insane and figure out something a bit more reasonable. Running a race as adult-me with my brother after going to bed at 3 a.m. (Halloween Horror Nights was fantastic, thanks for asking) is a much more zen experience. Get up 30 minutes before you need to leave the house. Leave the house at most one hour before the race starts, arrive no more than 30 minutes before the gun goes off. Slam an energy drink and some water, maybe a protein bar. Time your fluid intake so you can go to the bathroom within 15 minutes of the race starting. Run as hard as you can without either throwing up or passing out. High-five each other while staring blankly at the ocean, and then spend the following hours politely entertaining your mom’s friends who remember when you were 10 years old, reflecting on how as much as things may seem static here, you have changed and grown in ways you haven’t paused to notice.

Now, you’re probably wondering ‘Where is the actual race report?’ and that’s a great question. After writing up a couple of wild trail adventures, I can’t say I have much to tell you about running 5 flat miles out and back on a two-lane road in coastal Florida. I will tell you that an energy drink can absolutely make up for the fact that you didn’t sleep the night before but you will trade some of your sanity for that optimization. I can also say confidently that I would have rather been doing Squamish50 instead of redlining my system trying to go sub-40 in a road 5 miler. Racing in an area where the demographics skew older, they tend to do the age group awards in descending order. Which, for me and brochacho, was torture. This race also did age group awards 10 deep. We might be millennials, but we certainly sounded like boomers complaining about too many awards basically being participation trophies. I’m just deeply grateful that I somehow did not get a sunburn waiting around for them to finally announce my age group so I could claim my second-place pint glass and go home (and resist the urge to explain the UTMB-WAM/CMTR debacle to anyone who would listen).

Towards the end of the morning (as I was explaining the UTMB-WAM discourse to my mom, and breaking the news that I would, in fact, register to do Squamish 50M again), she asked if that was my thing now, if I was a trail ultra person. I hadn’t really thought about the ‘types’ of running being separate identities very much before then; I’ve never exclusively done one or the other on purpose, and even this past year in which I returned to the ultra scene, I maintained a few road races on the schedule. Being somewhere where trail races and ultras are not only accessible but same-day sell-out events, was not something I had ever conceived of before I moved to BC. The same scene simply does not, and perhaps cannot, exist in Florida. Watching the community here respond to the corporatization of the trail running scene, I realized how pure of a sport the trail offshoot can be and how the potential ramifications of ‘selling out’ isn’t really a thought in my hometown running scene, for better or worse. I am thankful that I get to have a foot in multiple communities, with distinct flavors and histories, and that I get to experience the very unique pleasures and pains of absurd community driven trail ultras as well as those of obscure hometown road races. Every mile we run takes us to a new place, whether physically or just within ourselves, and with every race or run we become a little more of who we are, no matter where in the world or the terrain underfoot.