i want so badly to go back to early 2000s livejournal to have toxic fights about willow/tara from btvs where everyone takes it too far and i hack a user i loathe’s curated spuffy fic forum and delete it and they retaliate by contacting the big name blogs and convincing them to sign a callout post for me that both damns me to a wave of hate and creates a strong counter-army of users who will now defend my every move. we end up mutually doxxing each other and losing our irl jobs over it but we physically cannot stop ourselves, it’s like a frenzied itch we have to scratch, until s7 hits and we suddenly realize that it was all for nothing. but then one day, after years of our blogs being inactive and when everyone has already left the site and left behind their shells of blogs documenting the past years of their lives, i make my last post and say where i’ll be waiting for them and hours later im leaning against the empty bus stop i detailed in my post, kicking my shoes against the gravel because i feel so dumb for hoping, but the bus finally comes and the rusted doors scrape open and only one woman walks off, walks right in front of me, and i finally get to put a face to that damned animated blingee spike icon and it’s raining and theres a slight autumn chill, i don’t have a dollar to my name because of her, i never imagined her cheek would be that soft, and i kiss her right there against the faded ad for goldman’s real estate firm, with its ink bleached of color from time
