you blog

hey. hey. stop scrolling for a sec.

breathe. you’ve made it so far this year. you’ve gotten through so many things that you thought you wouldn’t, and you’ll continue to get though this, whatever it is. i know you can. i believe in you, and i’m so, so proud of you. i know it probably seems impossible, but it’s going to be ok. it’s going to be ok.

breathe in, breath out. and just keep breathing. we’re gonna get there.

Ugh all this Starbucks crap. I wish coffee shops were the way they USED to be. 

You know…friends gathering to gossip, that one guy who’s always yelling about liberation from monarchist oppressors, students throwing chairs out windows to build barricades, the French National Guard showing up and slaughtering everybody…

Everybody is talking about the Mike/Eleven relationship this season (and not without good reason) BUT I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT THERE AREN’T MORE PEOPLE TALKING ABOUT THE GLORIOUSNESS THAT IS THE MIKE AND WILL FRIENDSHIP.

Just a few examples of this goodness:

  • Mike literally refusing to leave Will’s side pretty much from the moment he got infected by the shadow monster until the final episode. 
  • Mike sleeping in a hospital chair next to Will’s bed at the lab
  • Will confiding in Mike about all the shadow monster episodes
  • “I’ll take care of him. Let me take him home.” (on halloween night)
  • Mike instinctually trusting Will about Dart being the demogorgon no questions asked
  • “If we’re both going crazy then I guess we’ll go crazy together.”
  • When Will had forgotten a lot of things because of the virus, but he hadn’t forgotten Mike
  • Mike trying to phone Will throughout the school day when Will didn’t show up to school
  • Joyce trying to send Mike home when Will’s infected and Mike is just not having ANY of that bullshit
  • The only time we see Will’s facial expression change when he’s under the control of the shadow monster is when a single tear rolls down his face after Mike has finished telling the story of the day they met
  • Oh no Will’s in trouble! *first thing we see is a camera pan to Mike’s worried face*
  • Oh so when Will wakes up in the disguised shack of course Hopper will be there in case something goes wrong. Joyce and Jonathan obviously, because family. Oh and Mike Wheeler, despite the fact that the rest of their gang of friends remained in the house.  
  • are you telling me that mike and will are like family because i am not emotionally ready to deal with that
  • When they’re all telling stories to get Will to snap out of it and Will’s own mother and brother have told heart-wrenching emotional stories and nothing’s come of it and the thing that finally gets Will to fight back and start replying in morse code is Mike telling Will about the day they met
  • Basically my emotions went everywhere when Mike was talking about the day that he became friends with Will 
  • “It was the best thing that I’ve ever done.”

You can go on and on about any of the other relationships between characters. But you cannot deny that the friendship between Mike and Will is literally the purest thing to ever exist on television.

To conclude, why are people not talking more about this beautiful example of everything good about the world that is Will Byers and Mike Wheeler’s friendship

2

he asked you on a date, bakugou, its really gay

phil not remembering that “can phil express an opinion” is a reference, but dan does really tells you that dan’s the biggest demon out of all of us

All the urban legends came true at once.

Of course, I was six pages deep in a tax audit at the time. Chewing a pen when a rash of mothers with broken backs were rushed to the hospital, courteousy of uncareful feet smashing on cracks. Doctors, unsure at the time, blamed osteoporosis.

It was watched pots that remained cool. Or salt thrown over a shoulder that - for a second - showed a devil’s eye. Or it was the alligators. Don’t get me started on the alligators.

But something was the first whisper of what we’d woken up. Nobody wanted to say it out loud, because it sounded so ridiculous. It was a secret that swelled in our cheeks. Phrases we had always said that went silent.

All the hauntings came true. We had photograpic evidence of spirits. That’s probably what started the mass hysteria.

Some things took longer. Rubbing a statue for luck or breaking a mirror. Delayed response. One bad day turns into a bad month. Then you’re at the local witch place begging for a respite - seven years of bad luck?! - and she’s shaking her head. Nothing to be done.

Oh, the witches. The funny thing is that when people have always called you a witch, they’re surprisingly needy when you turn out to be one. When the world shifted, little towns who avoided one woman for her witchiness were now flocking to her because their legend had made her become one.

Pens mightier than swords. Avoiding groups of certain numbers. When a knife drops, we all hold our breath for the fight. A fork means company will show up, confused how they arrived.

It got better for a moment, for a breath, while we figured out the rules of it. What was a legend and what was myth. What kind of faith was big enough and what was too big. Some legends only effected certain areas. Some only certain people. We sunk money into infrastructure for once to clear up cracks. Stepped over salt in every building. Sold amulets like trinkets. For a second, we almost got our feet under us.

And then it got worse. Sometimes the company you invited was strange, unhuman. You had to wear iron. We had loved our cryptids until they came down from the mountains, worse than we could have predicted. Bowls of milk were on every window sill but most of them rotted.

In the books, we had all read about the end of the old ones. The unspeakable ones, who went off into the hills one day. Who we cannot say the name of. Who did not exist in the land of buses or planes. Who can steal you if they know your name, who can never lie but do a good job of it anyway.

We were not ready. The Folk showed up through the thin veil, and they were already laughing.

And they were just the beginning.