#what I was allowed to read what I was allowed to do the music I listened to what I wore what I wanted what I did and what I would do
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ROYAL TREATMENT | KNJ
summary: Despite your arranged marriage you are coming to love Emperor Kim Namjoon and you surely do hope he's falling just as hard. Though in times like this you wished you never came to the Korean court, but Kim Namjoon sure does have a way with words and his coc-
rating: 18+ (I'm not your mother you're in control of what you consume)
pairings: Emperor!Kim Namjoon x Empress Reader
warnings: porn with a pretty plot , husband Namjoon, unedited, arranged marriage to lovers , period typical misogyny / ideals / themes , slight angst, minor violence , MC shakes the table , talks of having children, reader has a 'not like other girls moment' sorry , smug namjoon 'i want to eat his face' SMUT, Namjoon a emperor and a Dj? , clit pinching, fingering , nipple play, breeding kink no no no , very tame choking, big body tanned namjoon im seeing a pattern in all my namjoon fics.. love confessions, p in v, Namjoon loves his wife and MC loves her hubby 🫶🏼
authors note: Howdy hotties! this is my official apology for all the times i said i was going to update but i don't lol. this has actually been in my docs for a year… don't jump me pls have mercy!!! this is heavily inspired by Bridgerton and The great because i love a good hood jam!! anyway, hope you enjoy it and if you're new to my blog check out my other works xxx
Since you've come to the Korean court to marry Kim Namjoon, he has been nothing but a gentleman.
Taking his time to get to know you as a person never forcing you to do anything you didn't want to do. You rejoiced that he didn’t take you on your wedding night instead holding you until you fell asleep in his warm arms. In your months of getting to know Namjoon you were coming to love the emperor and you hoped that he was falling just as hard. Though as of right now in this moment you wished you'd never come to this court.
Never married, never taken the time to know and love the royal that is your husband.
The Ladies of the court made you want to disappear. They were gossiping geese who didn't even read, they didn't know anything actually, only thinking of the latest hats from France or Russia.
Aara was the leader of the flock and from what your handmaids had spilled– Aara and Namjoon used to have nightly affairs together before the two of you were married. You guess that's why she was so uppity and spiteful because she's bedded him, and you have yet too.
“When will you and the emperor have children?” Aara asked, raising her glass teacup up to her thin lips.
“I am not ready for children nor is he''
You and the emperor haven't even committed the act to conceive children, but she was the last person you'd tell this information to.
“When me and the emperor were intimate, he always said he'd put a baby in me. He's very vocal during lovemaking. That is too bad empress" all her geese cackle like witches while you sat in embarrassment.
Your jaw tightened, fingertips starting to shake as you blew out a loud breath attempting to calm yourself down. You didn’t want to act out due to the fact the court saw you as a cruel person all because you were a foreigner who looked nothing like any of the ladies in Korea. Apparently, half the court believed you were the spawn of Satan or a witch, some rumors spread that you weren't even of noble blood.
All they needed was one good excuse to try and have you dethroned as empress and executed, but you couldn’t just allow her to walk all over you and talk to you in any kind of way anymore. You were still her superior. Standing from your chair everyone except Aara followed.
Smoothing out your dress, you wait for her to move. Mockingly she looked around before she stood. “Oh, please forgive me for your grace. I did not notice you-"
The loud sound of the back of your hand making contact with her face echoed throughout the room. The music stopped playing and everyone went completely still and silent. Her geese tried to help her off the ground, but you raised a hand halting them to stop.
“Aara. Ever since I stepped foot in this palace you have treated me with the utmost disrespect. I have spared you multiple times from my wrath because I am the empress and it’s simply not lady like” watching in satisfaction as her face reddens.
“I do not care about your past relations with my emperor because at the end of the day. You were his whore, and I am his wife.”
“I will bring him success; you will bring him disgrace and illegitimate bastards who will never run this country. Disrespect me again and you will be thrown into the slums and forced to work in the fields” Nodding at the ladies you walked out double doors with a newfound confidence.
A Few Days Later
“SHE'S SAID WHAT?” you court maids' wince at the sound of your voice bouncing off the walls of your bathing room.
“Please do not be an angry empress.” Se-eun tried to reason by lightly pushing your shoulders back down into the milky lukewarm water.
“It is only a silly rumor.” Ye-Eun reassured you with a smile.
You settle your back onto the stone behind allowing Sumin to softly brush through your thick coils. While Yoon, Isa, and Si-Eun looked for fragrances to add to the water. The girls have been your only friends since you’ve stepped foot into the castle. Sighing you let yourself relax just a little bit “What if the emperor hears of this? Surely, he’s heard that I striked her only days ago”
“Yes, I’ve heard.” your emperor's deep voice echoed throughout the bath hall. Your Handmaid's scramble to bow but he simply raised his hand towards them “You’re dismissed.”
The girls bow toward you rushing off, now it was just you and your husband alone, and you were naked, but he couldn’t see your body through the creamy water. He walked towards you slowly moving into the spot behind you.
“I apologize for interrupting your bathing time, but I have been busy, and this seems to be the only place we can be left alone.”
“Of course, I understand my lord” you hum when you feel him brush through your hair. “I was gone from the palace for only six days' and yet you've already caused trouble.” He snorted, placing the brush down to lean on the tub's cold stone railing. “May I come in with you?”
You swallow hard, breathing heavily, nodding your head. You watched him wide eyed stand to his feet and start to unbutton his dress shirt showing off his golden chest, thick and toned. When he began to remove his pants you turned your head away placing your hands to your bare chest feeling your heart beating rapidly.
He stepped in leaning on the other side of the wall, “I've heard of you striking Aara, the whole noble country has” you sigh, sinking deeper in the water.
“You did well holding your own. I know she can be a.. nuisance.” he blew out a breath, thick arms stretching out to lean back on the marble.
“Because you used to fuck her no?” The emperor sputters, eyes widening at your word. “I have to get used to your vulgarness.”
You hummed feeling a creeping pettiness enter your body. "Just like I have to get used to your whores."
He stared at you with a playful glint in his eyes, "Are you jealous wife?"
You huff standing angrily, water dripping off your naked body, biting his lip tight, the pit of his stomach twisting in arousal as he stared at every curve and dip of your body. “I am not a commoner; I do not get jealous.”
He swallowed trying to find the right words but she they’re not leaving his lips. You continue on your angry rant as you leave the tub grabbing your own towel. “I came here all the way from ten buck two, married a man whom I have never met, and everyone has failed to inform me on how to deal with having a husband who likes to share his seed with women who will never-”
You squeaked as a strong arm wrapped around your body. Your bare back was pressed onto a wet chest and the warmth of his breath on your neck gave you goosebumps as you shiver. “Let… me go Namjoon.”
He hummed as his hand roamed your stomach embarrassedly kneading the doughy flesh. “You won't even let me say how proud I am? My empress, my wife who speaks her mind and lets her power over her subjects be known.”
You felt hot all over as his other hand softly wrapped around your neck then trails lower and lower to your center. “I wish I was there to see it” he pressed himself into your back and you felt it.
He was thick , and hot against your back as he groaned. “Tell me to stop and I will .. tell me please.” In front of you both there was a large mirror where you two stared at each other. He took your silence as a go to continue his touches on your body. He turned your head to him, pressing his lips to yours.
Roughly the two of you kisses tongues dancing over one anothers as his hands groped your breast, and nipples. When you both felt dizzy you part with a string of spit as you both panted. He smiled lazily brown eyes hazy as he partied your sticky thighs with his large hand. Finger swiping the essence that drips from your core.
“You squeal embarrassed, closing your eyes as he runs his finger effortlessly through your slippery folds, then taunting your clit. He effortlessly slipped his thick cock in between your folds, his hand gripping your hips tightly as he held your jaw in his other hand. He thrusts his hips into your pelvis smacking against your ass, your wetness coating his cock while he wildly fucked your thighs.
“Do you know how tempting you are?” He grunts in your ear while you gasp and wither under his touch. “I must hold myself back every night from pinning you down and fucking you worth an inch of your life.”
Your stomach began to twist from the pressure of his thumb stroking your clit in rough circles, “Joon-”
“There you go cum for me” You gasp, thighs quivering, feeling your knees wobble but he holds you up, thrusting quicker between your thighs. you fall apart in his hold shivering and gushing over him.
He pulls his cock from between your thighs hand wrapped around himself as he uses your essence to jerk his red and leaking tip. He cums with a deep groan, white ropes landing onto your ass. Namjoon's head falls onto your shoulder breathing you in.
“Lets clean up, hm?”
nodding weakly you allow him to bring you back into the now cool water of your bath. He cleans you without a peep only letting out soft deep rumbles
When the cleaning is done, he brings you to your shared bedroom that is connected to the bathing room laying you softly onto the soft fabric of your bed. You watch him busy himself grabbing the oils, and lotions you always applied after bathing. His hands started from your left foot rubbing you lovingly. The aching between your legs starts again, too aware of how close his hands were to your cunt as he makes his way use to the crease of your thighs. “I do not fornicate with. . . horses.”
Wow what a way to set the mood.
Namjoon chokes on his spit, a deep laugher bubbling from the depths of his chest.
#bts x black reader#bts x reader#jungkook x reader#yoongi x reader#namjoon x reader#kim namjoon x reader#namjoon fanfic#namjoon smut
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I AM IMAGINING PAPA SAINZ'S REACTION TO LEWIS AND AMIRA AT THE MET GALA thank God Reyes shut off the TV early or he'd have a heart attack after seeing the after party
Also I HC that Carlos was frantically calling up his dad but Reyes turned it to silent mode because she KNEW her son would do that!!
So much fun to write this. I can totally see Carlos pacing in his room, wondering why his Papá isn't picking up.
Enjoy reading and send some requests
-XoXo
A mothers helping hand
Carlos Sr. and Reyes sat side by side, their eyes glued to the TV screen. Amira, their precious girl, graced the Met Gala carpet in a gown that shimmered like stardust. “Look at how pretty our girl looks,” Reyes whispered, her heart swelling with pride. Carlos Sr. nodded, blinking back tears. His little princess had become a queen.
As the gala unfolded, Reyes realized they could also catch the After-Party on TV. Carlos Sr. excused himself to fetch drinks, leaving Reyes alone with the screen. And there it was—a moment that sent panic coursing through her veins.
Amira, radiant and ethereal, stood in the arms of none other than Sir Lewis Hamilton. Reyes harbored no objections to their relationship, but she knew her husband’s temper. Worse yet, their son would undoubtedly intervene, urging Carlos Sr. to talk to Amira, to pull her away from the After-Party. Reyes couldn’t allow that.
In an impromptu decision, she switched off the TV and removed the batteries from the remote. Carlos Sr. returned, puzzled. “Ay, what happened? Why isn’t the TV working?” he asked. Reyes feigned innocence. “I don’t know, Carlito.” Her husband fiddled with the TV, oblivious to her covert operation.
His phone buzzed—a message from their son. Swiftly, Reyes snatched it, toggled flight mode, and deleted the internet settings. Extreme, perhaps, but she wouldn’t let their son disrupt Amira’s night. Not when she was dancing with stars.
“Maybe it’s a sign from above that we should go to bed,” Reyes suggested, her eyes twinkling. Carlos Sr. chuckled. He knew better than to argue with his determined wife. Offering his hand, he led her upstairs. But before they reached their room, he asked, “Have you seen my phone anywhere?”
Reyes feigned surprise. “Oh, Carlito, I think I left it downstairs. But you know what? Maybe we don’t need it tonight.” She pulled him into their bedroom, leaving the world outside. In that quiet space, they listened to the distant music of the Met Gala, knowing their daughter was twirling in Lewis Hamilton’s arms.
And Reyes silently vowed to protect Amira’s happiness, even if it meant outsmarting technology and meddling sons.
#formula 1#baby!sainz!sister#formula 1 x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#carlos sainz x sister!reader
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Optimus Prime x Megatron fic recs!!
HII AGAIN, I had to delete my old account @numbraerys so I'm reuploading this rec list, sorry about the mess but I'll make the rec a little prettier this time ^^
Homesick For A Memory by Eisengrave, Maelikki [M, 9k w., Bay Movies]
Even Primes can lose their faith. But sometimes, their failed Protectors make good on their word given long ago.(weird little fixit for AoE because we stan a protective Megatron and an Optimus who is finally tired of his human hamsters. Also, homecoming.)
~ugly crying, screaming on my pillow, rolling around on the floor
The Silver Lining by GeminiWishes [Teen and up, 38k w., Transformers Animated 2007]:
After Optimus was expelled from the Autobot Academy, he had no sense of what to do or where to go. Desperate for purpose, he ends up on a mining crew that travels the galaxy. But when their ship is attacked, Optimus' life will change forever.
Whether or not he'll be able to handle those changes is yet to be determined.
~I ran around my room on all fours reading this
Some Kind Of Forever by auri_mynonys (FAVE) [E, 8625 w., TFP]:
A chance meeting in a bar near the Pits brings Orion Pax and Megatronus together.
~I freaking love this fic, I'm so glad it was one of the first I ever read
Adeste Fideles by Legitconcrusher (FAVE) [Teen and up, TFP, 57,632+ w, ongoing]:
“Oh, indulge me, Optimus. How many times have you answered your desire’s calls to walk among these pitiful creatures…in the flesh?”
In which Optimus shares with his greatest foe, and former friend - Megatron, the one time a year he allows himself to feel amid the throes of their War within a Christmas market.
The angsty slow burn Christmas AU no one asked for.
~absolutely wonderful to read and incredible writing♡♡♡♡
Gaining Perspective by Dragonlingdar [Teen and up, BayVerse, 105,732 w., Ongoing]:
Megatron and Optimus are turned into humans by a prototype weapon Starscream uses against them. In order for Megatron to get his revenge and Optimus to free himself of Megatron, they must reclaim their original bodies. However, will they still be Optimus Prime and Megatron by the time they do?
~I hyperfixated on this fic for a whole month after finishing it
Contact by auri_mynonys (FAVE) [E, 98,747 w., TFP]:
Orion Pax knows there's a word for what Megatronus means to him. He just can't quite put his finger on what it is.
Which is probably how he missed the moment where he asked Megatronus to marry him.
~Slow Burn♡♡♡♡♡
Plus One by auri_mynonys [E, 64,631 w., TFP]:
Megatronus has a party to attend. A high-caste date will lend him status in the eyes of his fellow gladiators, and Orion Pax is all too happy to play the part…
~this fic was infuriating to read, I loved every second of it
Songs Of Metal And Sparks by EbonyAura [Teen and up, 58,741 w., Rock n' Roll AU, TFP]:
Imagine the Transformers Prime universe where war is nonexistent, and instead of the Autobot and Decepticon factions, it's the Autobot and Decepticon rock bands.
Imagine that both bands are nearly world famous, yet have no idea the other exists.
Imagine that Cybertron's festival of music is approaching, and with it, the chance for a lucky upcoming band to go on a world tour.
Imagine that both bands, ecstatic for the chance to finally reach world fame, are going to the festival.
~this cured my teenage heart that didn't get to read nice cute stuff like this
Optimus Prime Is Destined To Die!! by Chuzilllaa (FAVE) [G, 169k+ w, ongoing]:
Orion Pax is your typical archivist from a functionalist free universe and lives a peaceful life, but after dying tragically in a transport incident he’s reincarnated as Optimus Prime of the hit action novel Songs of the Spark, the beautiful but aloof eldest prince of the Prime lineage…who is a pathetic side character doomed to die a tragic death at the hands of the tyrannical Duke Megatron.
Of course his darling little brother Rodimus Prime is the precious hero and puts an end to Megatron’s reign, but Orion has no intention of dying a pathetic death! No! Not again! He wants to live damnit! So begins the attempts of a pax-turned-prime turning over a new leaf in the hope of living another day. Little does he know there’s a bit more to Optimus than a pathetic side character…
~I love this fic so. damn. much.
Lunch Date by Chuzilllaa [Teen and up, 6,000+ w, Earthspark, crack]:
With a new cafe opening at G.H.O.S.T headquarters, Optimus invites Megatron to try something new.
~fluffy and funny♡♡♡
At First Sight by Lyricality (FAVE) [M, 27,000+ w.]:
Optimus is the last of the Primes; Megatron is the greatest of Kaon's gladiatorial warriors. Their shared destiny - Optimus is certain - just needs a push in the correct direction.
~help I got obsessed with this fic and I can't get out
To give (in) by 0 (only_elsewhere) (FAVE) [M, 10,000+ w, Earthspark]:
After the war, Optimus confesses.
~aaashhksdkkklkosljdhjh
Victory Condition by astolat [E, 37,000+ w, TF Gen1]
“Do you want me to tell you a story?” Megatron said mockingly. “You won’t like it, Prime. It’s not a very nice one.”
~cave in fic with poetry and the heart wrenching story of Megatron's origins - my beloved
Cooking Off by zuzeca [E, 2000 w., IDW G1]:
Megatron and Optimus find themselves in an awkward position and learn some extremely personal information about each other.
~ Good reading ;3
#megaop#fic recs#transformers#Optimus prime x Megatron#megatron x optimus prime#Transformers fic recs#megop#I'm always adding new fics i find#reupload
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Arrival on Ancient Terra
Warnings: threats of bodily harm, injuries, Chaos Space Marines, Death Guard Astartes, tell me if I need to add more.
Author’s note: Hura’s debut! An Explanation that spawned this AU. Prologue
Summary: Hura muses about what happened to him when he first arrived on Ancient Terra.
Another Author's Note: I Kept Reading it in case there is triggering content that I haven't tagged. Again. Let me know if I need to add anything.
Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @egrets-not-regrets, @barn-anon, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @bleedingichorhearts, @kit-williams
Hura had been on Ancient Terra for several months, he’s done what he can to subtly spread the blessings of Grandfather, while still staying within the rules set by the Alliance between the greater Chapters of Loyalists, Renegade and Chaos Warbands. As an experienced Apothecary, he was allowed within the network of Astartes owned and run Apothecaries, he primarily dealt with his fellow Chaos Marines, especially the more belligerent-to-Loyalist Renegade and Chaos Marines. They won’t allow him near baseline humans that come with their bonded Astartes if possible, which he thinks is a terrible shame. Humans are such wonderful creatures, besides, he’s not the type to be actively cruel, not like the Slaneshi or Khornate type astartes.
He has a great love for his fellow marines and base line humans. He’s humming a song that he’d heard, it’s popular among the base line humans, they have such interesting forms of music. He’s been learning the main human language that is in the geographical area that he landed in when he first came to Ancient Terra. He’d wandered in the lovely swampy area, trying to figure out where he was, before he’d come across a wounded fellow Chaos Marine, under the thick muck he was under, Hura hadn’t been able to discern which legion he’d come from. But he’d softly asked if his younger cousin whished for his help in getting patched up.
The younger Chaos Marine had hissed, puffed, chuffed and growled and did many a snapping, jagged, sharp needle teeth to show just how scary he was. He had been mostly amused and soothed the hurt younger Astartes telling him that his display of Terror was quite impressive, but he can smell the blood, wounds, and rot starting to set in. The other space marine had deflated and allowed him close to patch him up. He didn’t care to remember the threats that the other had issued and spat at him. He had hummed and crooned at his fellow Chaos Marine after he’d snarl and hiss at him, explaining what he was doing before he did it as he patched up the feisty youngster.
He had been almost dragged by the other space marine to his warband. Apothecaries are rare among the Chaos Space Marines, and after an explanation of where and when he is, have become even rarer and more valuable, especially the ones who are not… exorbitant with their prices for their services. Learning of the truce between the greater warbands and the loyalist and renegades had been interesting to learn of, he’d abide by the terms, mostly at least. This whole bonding with a baseline human thing sounded utterly fascinating and he has seen at a distance what Bonded Astartes are like with their Human, the changes in behavior of his fellow Chaos aligned marines is very interesting to document.
Hura is open to bonding with a human, but he’s not actively seeking one out to bond with, he’s kept very busy with Apothecary duties, among other things. He’s on one of his rare days off as he explores the city when he senses something he turns his head slowly, carefully, when he spots them. And feels a pull, the pull, the draw, the lure, the song, the... well, his brothers and cousins all of many different names for the feeling of when they first sense their bonded. He follows the direction of the pull, seeing his human. They are a lovely human, who looks up at him, at first scent seems… worried, or concerned, but as he croons out sweetly, gurgling down at them.
“Hello my bonded,” He croons at them, the bond takes effect, and he sees as they relax and smile as bright as a thousand suns up at him.
They come over and he gently cradles them in his arms and listens to his precious human and walks in the direction that they request of him, learning of where they live, it’s a small apartment, and he eyes the human made and created for steps. He sends a message to his Warband Leader about his bonded nature, and the request for housing for himself and his human that would be suitable for both of them. His human has such a lovely voice that chirps up at him in one of the Ancient Terran languages, he understands more of what they say, when they speak slower, at least. He croons at them, nuzzling them with a deep, warbling purring.
#warhammer 40k#space marine husbandry sentience#space marine husbandry#warhammer#adeptus astartes#OC: Hura#Death Guard#Death Guard Shenanigans#poor unfortunate souls au
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🎀 Going Challenge // Day 10 & 11 of 82🐇
🗼 正直に、最近私は幸せす。楽しがあります。運動はまたが好きです。私のが好きな音楽は聞きます。あとは、週末はまたに来ます。(honestly, lately i am happy. i have fun. i like exercising again. i listen to my favorite music. also, the weekend has come again.)
Day 10
📒 journal
❓ again, technically, i do have a layover in Korea. so. this is useful. (ok, i totally caved again but look at the date it was posted!! i held out for so long 😭)
🚣♀️🏃♀️ i forgot about my rule of only fun workouts allowed. yesterday's workout that i attempted was not very fun and i feel like i'm forcing myself to re-attempt it today and for what 🤨 so instead, it's my favorite exercise of rowing + run bts (and other bops)
🍱 Japanese listening practice (i didn't finish it because it felt surprisingly easy even without subs and i want to focus on learning practical vocabulary for when i travel, でも先生はとてもいいです、それで日本の友達と話す勉強に私はおすすめです! but for learning to make conversation with Japanese friends, i highly recommend!) + practical listening + conversation practice
⛩️ Japanese lessons (2x) + unit exam
🕵️♀️ read a chapter of And Then There Were None (bgm)
💸 personal finance class~
🚘 driving lesson~
Day 11
🏃♀️ 10 minute cardio (i've been focusing mainly on building up strength to avoid a relapse of my chronic pain issues, which have managed to resurface periodically anyway, so i thought screw it 😛 but since this is my first time doing proper cardio in a while, ngl i almost died 💀 the music slaps tho)
🍱 Japanese listening + conversation practice (someone please tell me there is a song like Left & Right by Seventeen that i can use to remember directions in Japanese 🙏)
❓ i caved... again 근데 에이사의 천천히 한국어로 말은 조금 애매,,, 알아들 없어 😅
⛩️ Japanese lessons (3x)
❓ binge-read The Guest Cat (yes, i started not-so-secretly reading a... 5th? 6th book? almost 2 weeks ago... but it's part of the lovely @tokidokitokyo's book club, so you can't blame me!! 🥺 better to come clean late than never, right? 😅 that said, now i'm part of 2 book clubs and definitely not going insane hehe oopsie daisy~ 🌼)
😌 디노랑 명상
💸 personal finance class!
💌: 疲れた。お休み~ 終わり。(i'm tired. good night~ the end.)
bonus: thank you @winryrockbellwannabe and @tokidokitokyo for tagging me in this game ☺️ i have a bit of a twist to mine: first is how my sister @pianistbynight / @studentbyday sees me and second is how i see myself 🥺
💞: @whenmemoriesfrost @hanabeeri @mochademic @perabera @ohyespotatous!
#studyblr#langblr#study motivation#study inspiration#zesty's life#100 days of productivity#100 days of studying#japanese langblr#korean langblr#pink pilates princess#pink pilates girl#pink pilates aesthetic#pink aesthetic#pink moodboard#heydilli#that girl#it girl#wonyoungism#astudentslifebuoy#vanilla girl#green juice girl#glow up#self development#self love#self care#self improvement#level up#learning japanese#learning korean#dream girl
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i was never a writter, but the lack of geo content is killing me so here we go
Before you read; i tried to make this as versatile as possible, make it fit for different types of readers and wether or not it follows cannon storyline! The only thing about this is that you and crowe have no romantic interest in eachother and are just friends. (If crowe and geo were pinning for the same person that would be messy and too complicated for me to think of)
NOT PROOFREAD
geo x reader hc:
• its known that geo is rich, and from deryl's account, has bodyguards armed with katanas. while its unclear how often he is accompanied by these bodyguards. He wouldn't heasiitate to have them accompany you too, especially after the movie theater / arcade incident (depending on the route you choose) or if anything similar happened. Especially when he isnt around.
• if you are a shy / quiet person, he will be by your side, not saying much, but the fact that he is willingly spending his free time with you, shows how much he cares about you.
- he will push you out of your shell, he wants the best for you what holds people being too scared to take action. Your shyness could hold you back and he doesn't want you to be hurt by it. When your too scared to speak out he will nudge you to do so, giving you confidence and reassurance, of course he usually ends up speaking up for you anyways. He wont allow others to disrespect you.
• if you are more loud and rambunctious he would pretend to be annoyed with you, but you are close enough to know he genuinely cares about you.
- even though he dislikes rowdy places, he will endure your shenanigans. somtimes you get too out of hand, and this is when he brings you back to earth.
• surprisingly, hes a tad bit better at showing affection through words, he seems— unsure about physical contact. He has daddy issues and his relationship with his mom and hyugo are unclear, but i have a hunch that hes touch starved and never really received affection through touch (or at all).
• he isn't the best at showing affection overall, however it feels as though he does it through acts of service best. If you have an issue, he would try and fix it or help it for you— he can, and will get physical.
• while he is stubborn, and finds it hard to vocalize his admiration for you, he is decent with words of affirmation, of course at the start before you get closer hes silent. He doesn't say lovey dovey things directly, its more in how he speaks. Once he warms up to you, he will speak to and about you with love. He also teases you, just like he does with deryl, your reactions, and laughter mean the world to him. he cares about you— and the rest of his friends.
• I think quality time is a another strong means of affection for him. He’s very busy (at least— I think). He will decline going to the hallows ball even if his friends are going because he has "better things to do". His time is valuable, he will put time aside just to be with you because he loves you, you give him energy and refuel his mental state when he needs energy. Wether it be a date, cuddling, listening to music together (Japanese opera and whatever you like), looking at potted plants, or just being next to eachother, its the highlight of his day.
• speaking of cuddling, he enjoys it, while hes stiff and unsure at first, he will warm up to it. He finds comfort in having you in his arms and making sure your safe. (And later, will enjoy being in your arms). While "i love you" is too hard for him to utter, holding you close to him as a reminder of his love and protection is what he does.
• hes horrible, horrifically terrible at comforting. He wasn't comforted as a child (at least thats what i think...). So its no surprise he doesn't know how to console you, he feels awful seeing you in a depressed state. He would likely seek out one of his friends for advice on comforting you. However, times like these is when he finds it easier to voice his love for you. Even if it isnt really that comforting— "why are you so sad / crying? Was it ____— do you want me to beat their asses?"
🔖 : i was going to add another section about sol and how geo would deal with that, but i just got too impatient and just had to post it!!! So ill write that later ヽ(≧∀≦)ﾉ
#geo oogami#subaru geo oogami#geo subaru oogami#the kid at the back vn#the kid at the back#tkatb vn#katb vn#tkatb geo
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I Don't Know Which Way's Home
Chapter 17: Repair
ao3 link, Part 1, Part 16
March 1986
The news has been replaying the same story all day. It should be shocking, sort of is, but Julie’s kind of numb to it at this point. Each year, like clockwork, something big happens. Something this small town hasn’t faced in decades. A kid missing, turned up dead, just to be found alive again. A government laboratory had a gas leak that caused the death of many more people. The mall catches on fire causing a mass casualty. Now this.
She was awoken by sirens this morning. Ruined what was supposed to be a day where she slept till noon. It was spring break; she was allowed to be lazy. But instead, the spring break was wrapped up by police tape. The cause of a whole new type of stress.
Beloved student of Hawkins High School, Crissy Cunningham, found dead in the Munson’s trailer. Eddie Munson, the prime suspect, still at large. The body, found by Wayne Munson, a hard-working man of the community, is disfigured beyond belief. The police don’t have enough evidence to make a statement. But are advising the public to be aware and alert the police of any suspicious behavior.
Julie doesn’t know Eddie that well. They’ve only been neighbors, acquaintances. Sure, he drove her to school a few times. Made sure that she got there safely and was an ear when she needed to rant. But that didn’t make them friends. That didn’t make them close.
It didn’t take an idiot to see that Eddie wasn’t as big as scary as he was chalked up to see. Unfortunately, this town was full of idiots. Ready to point their fingers to the person the papers blame. Since they were already so influenced that metal music was from the devil and all dungeons and dragon’s players were Satan worshippers. It only took one headline for them to believe that. What’s stopping them from believing it now?
The evidence is damning. Wayne worked last night so it can’t be him. Multiple witnesses saw Chrissy leave with Eddie after the game last night. He is a known drug dealer, which most people would say is a step away from murder. His van was heard by the entire trailer park at both their entrance and his exit.
But there was one thing that Julie’s not sure anyone really heard. His screams.
Trailer parks are a hive for nosy neighbors fueled by the powers of thin walls. Lots of open air for noise to travel. It was nice outside last night, so Julie sat out on their little porch with a book. Peacefully reading.
Until Eddie pulled up with music blaring out the windows. Slamming on the breaks before he crashes straight into his own trailer. Right before the queen herself gets out of the car and walks right through his front door.
Julie says she’s better than gossip, but this she just had to know. Had to witness. Two people who never interact, going into an empty trailer. A recipe for disaster.
And disaster it was. Not long after, Julie can hear some yelling from the trailer. Something about waking up. Chrissy not being able to hear Eddie. It just increasing in volume until it devolves into a terrified scream. Then Eddie runs out of his trailer, gets into his van, and speeds away.
Julie doesn’t know a lot about how murderers act, but she can guess they don’t normally scream while killing their victims. That’s a pretty obvious sign that something’s wrong. But the police just brush her off when she tells them. The arrest has already written itself.
. . .
Present Day, April 1987
It’s been almost two full weeks since Steve and Julie moved into the new house, and Steve still feels off about it all. About taking the next step in the case. Passing the point of no return.
Steve doesn’t know what to do. It’s like he’s being backing into a corner. On the one hand, he could drop this and make himself a fool to his parents, to his friends, probably a good bit of the town. Or he can go through with it just to drag up his baggage all over again. Feel like shit all over again.
He doesn’t know what to do.
Then there’s all the other stuff. The looming piles of bills in his future, the fact that they still don’t have a couch. That Steve still doesn’t have a proper mattress. And the fridge is getting kind of empty, so he needs to go shopping soon.
These are new worries for him. Making a strict budget and making sure it’s enforced. Saying no to the kids when they want something, forcing Robin and Eddie to pay their share of the meals when they go out. Even though it was really always him ensuring he was alright paying the bill. Making small stacks of coupons and waiting deals to show up in the paper. It’s a lot.
Steve’s never been poor before. Not to say that he is now. Well, he kind of is. He has a good bit of debt because of this loan and lost a large chunk, most, of his savings to buying this house and the initial furniture. Paychecks are split between bills, food, Julie, savings, and then him. He’s the last on his list of priorities.
It’s all bringing up more issues, as if it already wasn’t enough. He’s always been the friend that picks up everyone’s tab. Pays for the check, the parties, the supplies, the fancy gifts. It’s all been from his money. His dad’s money. Which he doesn’t have anymore.
He knows it’s stupid to think that the friends he has now would care about that. Just because his old friends definitely would have. But these guys, they care more about the money. About the name. What Steve can give them.
Sometimes, it just doesn’t feel like it.
Steve’s always been a giver. It felt wrong to keep what he had just to himself. He never took, just gave. What would he be when there was nothing left to give?
Julie shuts the door just a hair away from a slam when she gets home. Giving her bedroom door a harsher treatment. It squeaks all the way shut. He’s been meaning to fix that, hasn’t gotten around to it yet.
She’s been like this ever since they moved. Her demeanor shifting almost immediately. At first, he chalked it up to the stress, having a new place that didn’t feel right. The change uncomfortably itching beneath the skin.
But after a week went by and it was the same thing every day, he knew something was up.
He walks over to her door, knocking lightly.
“What,” Julie yells through the door.
Steve’s taken aback. “How was school?” he asks calmly.
She whips the door open. “Fine,” she huffs. “That all?”
“You ok?” he asks as if the question didn’t answer itself already.
“Yeah,” Julie rolls her eyes. “I’m fine.”
Steve crosses his arms. “You sure? Cause to me it seems like you’re upset about something. You know you can talk to me about this stuff.”
“Whatever.” Julie slams the door in his face.
It takes all Steve has to not rip the door open and give a whole lecture on how rude that was. To restrain himself from stepping into old shoes. To react differently than his father would have. Come back when the moment dies down and the anger stops bubbling. To be better. To be him.
Whatever he is at the moment.
. . .
Julie tears another piece of paper out of her notebook. Crumpling it in her hands and throwing it across the room, watching it miss the trashcan. Landing next to the other balls of paper. Each one being more wrong than the last.
She should be doing homework. There’s an essay due for her English class in a few days and she hasn’t gotten around to writing it. Too busy with the move, then the adjusting. Now this. The same thoughts over and over again in her mind. All of them screaming that this can’t be happening right now.
Every time Julie thinks she can have any sort of break, another thing comes along just to punch her down again. Her mom died, then she moved, then she moved again, then she started getting better but that’s this whole other thing, then she gets kicked out, moves again. Now she has a crush on one of her best friends. What a great fucking life this is.
Julie tugs at the roots of her hair, pushing her fingers under the tightness of her braid. Hoping if she squeezes long enough, the unwanted thoughts will just leave. She’ll be able to think of a theme in the Catcher in the Rye that speaks to her enough to get five pages out of. Be able to write enough in her stupid notebook that makes sense. Get her grades back to where they were before and her life back together again.
Falling apart is a tune run dry and Julie’s tired of playing it. All she wants to do is go back to being normal. Like she was a year ago. Happy, kinda pissed at the world in different ways, but happy. Where there was something that didn’t quite make sense with the way she felt about girls, but it was easy to brush it all off. And her mom came home smelling like syrup and bacon grease instead of alcohol. Her knew sobriety chip kept proudly in the pocket of her apron. Constantly reminding her what the tips really needed to be spent on.
Life was good. It was normal. It was everything. Julie misses everything.
She misses the way the house always smelled a little stale and like mildew. The flowery candle her mom burned doing nothing to cover it up. She misses the way she would trip on the pile of shoes by the door. And how the singular hook on the wall would always drop her coat so much she started to throw it over a chair. How the kitchen would always be a little bit messy, and there would be dishes in the sink and pots on the stove. The couch that had it’s built in divot made by someone else with cushions that were squished beyond compare. Doors that fell off hinges every year or so and the sounds of the radio flowing through the walls.
All of it aches in her heart the more she moves on. The more she grows away from the place she called home. Having to keep retracing it all in her mind so she won’t forget it. Hold her mom’s sweatshirt close to her nose and pray to smell her cheap perfume again. But all that’s there is Julie. All there is left is Julie.
Julie is the only thing left of her mom other than the picture sitting on her desk. Which sucks for so many reasons she can’t find the words to explain. Mainly because looking in the mirror gets harder. Each time looking a little less like herself than the day before. Not quite knowing who she is anymore.
Reflections almost heighten to the imperfections on Julie’s face. The darkness underneath her eyes, the red dots forming on her chin and forehead. The fakeness of her smile, the way it can’t seem to reach her eyes quite right. Growing into a face that lost its childhood. Fighting to keep all she can of what’s left.
Growing up was always going to be hard. Slowly seeing herself morph away from childhood dreams and expectations. Having them crushed by the cruel realities of the world. Having memories trapped in confines of the mind that can’t seem to be open again. Becoming someone is hard in a normal life, let alone one with as many hurdles as Julie’s.
Julie can’t even begin to fathom what she would say to herself half a year ago, five years ago. How could she crush that little girl’s dreams right before her eyes. Witnessing the pain from the outside rather than the in. Tell her that there would be no princess wedding, or even one at all. That her mom wouldn’t even be there if she could. Gone far too soon. She left Julie far too soon.
Childhood isn’t missed until it’s stripped away. Until it can never return. For what its worst, Julie’s mom made sure she had it for as long as possible. Before the inevitable kicked in and took it away for her.
Now Julie’s filled with hate again. At herself. At Steve for trying. At him for not being who she wants on the other side of the door. A constant reminder that this good thing could only come once her mom was gone. Finally, a house, but without the mother to make it a home.
It’s not fair to blame him, she knows that. Can hear the upcoming words of her therapist as she relays this all to him in the next session. How she’s placing Steve in a box that he was never meant to fill. Just because the emptiness was too crushing to face in whole.
Giving up on the homework, Julie lies on her bed. The new mattress smell still seeping through the covers. She takes her Walkman and presses play on whatever’s in there. Noise blasting through her ears, loud enough to hopefully cover these thoughts. She grabs a pillow, wanting to squeeze something close to her chest. All of her childhood stuffed animals gone with the first move. Another piece of her that is forever lost.
The tears start to form, and Julie lets them fall.
. . .
The next day doesn’t seem to be any better. She insists on biking to school today. Doesn’t really make it a choice as she hoes straight from her room to the door. Without saying as much as a goodbye.
Steve doesn’t push. Thinks it would be best after the outburst yesterday.
The last time Julie acted like this was her mom’s birthday. Where she was hurting so bad that she decided to hit at the closest target. If that’s what she needs to do again, he’d be happy to take it all. Hold some of the hurt so she didn’t have too anymore. Distract him from his own hurt at the moment.
It’s so bad that she forgets her lunch on the counter. Even though it would probably have ended in the garbage. Like how last night’s dinner landed right into a container to be revisited later. Still sitting in the fridge when Steve went to make breakfast this morning.
He’s not quite sure the last time she’s eaten more than half her plate. Too busy with his own stuff to notice her dip back in her progress. Kicking himself that he didn’t see it all sooner. That it took for her slamming a door in his face to understand how bad it had really gotten. Not like he could have stopped it. But it might have helped.
“That conversation you had with Julie while me and Eddie were out getting the pizza,” Steve says while explaining the situation to Robin. “Was that about her mom? About the move?”
Robin takes a second to think. Physically stopping and starting her movements a few times before speaking. “No, it was about something else.”
Something else. Steve didn’t know about a something else. “Was it because of me?”
“No, no. It was just something really private that she wanted to talk to me about. I would tell you but it’s really not my place to.”
Steve ignores the alarm bell ringing in his head. She’ll tell him about it, whatever it is, when she’s ready. “But you would if you thought it had anything to do with the way she’s acting.”
Robin shrugs. “It depends. If I thought, it would help. But honestly,” she takes a deep breath. “I think telling you about it might make it a million times worse.”
“Make what a million times worse?” Eddie asks after walking in. Sliding into his designated spot at Steve’s side and placing a kiss to the side of his head.
Robin rolls her eyes. “You guys can’t be this happy while Nancy’s away at school.”
“Oh boohoo.” Eddie sticks out his tongue.
“I thought you had work today?” Steve asks Eddie.
He shrugs. “I’m sick.”
“You’re going to be jobless if you keep calling out for no damn reason,” Robin chastises.
“Well clearly, I was needed elsewhere because there is a situation that needs dealing with. Make what worse? By a million times?”
Robin rolls her eyes again, gesturing Steve to fill Eddie in on the situation.
“Julie’s hitting a low point again, she slammed a door in my face yesterday.”
“Do you think it’s about her mom?” Eddie gets a soda out of the fridge and sits on the countertop.
It could be. One of the first things Julie said when she saw the house was how it reminded her or her mom. How a place like this was all her mom ever wanted for the two of them. That had to drag up some feelings. Especially since they were now living here.
Steve shrugs. “It could be. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.”
But there was something else. Either the thing she talked about with Robin or him pushing yesterday. Something going on in school. Anything.
There were so many places to mess up. For Steve to fuck up something that didn’t just involve him. He’s bad at dealing with things. Pretending his problems don’t exist so he doesn’t have to think about them. Or lashing out just to feel more powerful than them.
Steve just didn’t want Julie to feel like she had to keep it in. That she had to keep the war in her mind because no one cared enough to listen. Or that she would burden him just for talking to him about it. He wanted her to be better than himself. Maybe that was too high of an expectation to have.
“Just talk to her about it,” Robin says softly. “She’s always come around to telling you how she feels. She just needed to blow off a little steam, that’s all.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Maybe was a lot of things right now. None of them made Steve feel any better.
“Hey,” Eddie kicks Steve gently. “What’s really going on? Other than the Julie thing?”
“It’d be easier to say what isn’t going on than what is?” Steve pulls out one of the metal folding chairs from their makeshift kitchen/dining table and sits down. It squeaks under his weight, proving his point for him. “Maybe I bit off more than I can chew.”
Robin pulls out the chair next to him. “You did what you had to. It just happened to be very overwhelming.”
“I’m not talking about that. Well, I am but not really. It’s just,” Steve takes a deep breath. “This case. If I’m still going through with it. It’s just adding more to the pile and I’m now realizing I didn’t really think it through as much as I should’ve.”
“What do you mean,” Eddie interrupts. “You seemed liked you thought it over a lot, actually. Had evidence all laid out, contacted people, got witness statements. People to testify. Had multiple people who know their shit tell you that this was a good case. You checked off all the boxes.”
“Yeah, sure. But I don’t think I’d realized at the time that I might be going to court twice in a short amount of time.”
Steve asked Sarah a few weeks ago what it would take to make him the permanent guardian for Julie. Maybe even adopting her. If that’s what she wanted, he hasn’t brought that specifically up yet. Sarah mentioned something about permanent guardianship, since Julie’s only a year away from becoming an adult.
But no matter what, it probably leads to presenting his case before a judge. Having them make the final decision. With all the things that have happened in the past few weeks, and Sarah pulling some strings she shouldn’t have, the risk of relocation raised a bit. Making this permanent would get rid of the risk. Neither of them would have to worry about this anymore.
“Wait, twice,” Robin questions.
“Yeah, once for this case against my parents, twice to get permanent custody of Julie.”
“Is that something you guys have talked about?”
Steve shrugs. “A bit. She definitely wants to stay with me long term, and I said I’d start asking about the options. I just haven’t talked to her about which one she would prefer, since she’s got less than a year before she turns eighteen. Most of them involve at least going in front of a judge to prove that I have the means to care for her until she’s an adult.”
“And if this case falls through, it might look bad on you,” Eddie connects the dots.
“Exactly. And I’ll have to pay all the legal fees out of my own pocket where I would have gotten that back from the money I won.”
Then there was the reason for doing this all in the first place, getting them to understand what they did to him. How he was affected because of their neglect. Would they even listen? Would this change anything? Would this all just become another story to tell their friends?
They would go around telling their friends how much of a disappointment he is. How he is ungrateful of everything they’ve done for him. How he wouldn’t even be here without them. As if that makes up for the fact that they were never around.
Creating someone doesn’t immediately garner respect. It still has to be earned. Each time he was left, his respect, his love for his parents shrunk. Now all that is left is a sliver so small, yet it still feels like a mountain. Still crushing him.
He doesn’t want to be crushed by it anymore.
Steve gets up, goes to his room and pulls out all of the evidence he’s built. The entire case against his parents laid in a binder. Copies of bank and credit card statements. Highlighted lines of hotel stays and flights books. Lined up with dates that Steve could recall they missed. Birthdays and holidays lost. Memories begged to be made. Years gone.
Statements of the many nannies that he had. Each confirming their own payments, the lengths of their stays. Empty cards filled with not even the signature of their names. Cursive congratulations and happy birthdays printed instead. Hospital records that show his own signature on the discharge form. Mrs. Henderson’s name on the contact form since his parents couldn’t care to show up.
It was enough, it had to be.
He brings it out to the kitchen, laying it all out on the table. Asking Robin and Eddie to go through it. Tell him if they think it would be enough.
Witnesses, one of them asks. Steve could think of a few. One of the nannies had offered when he asked. She would still do it. Hopper said he would not only be a character witness, but also get the records for that one house party he broke up where Steve was caught underage drinking. How he had to drive him home, his parents nowhere to be seen. Nancy probably would too. She could tell the courts how she knew his parents were never home, even if he was seventeen.
It is enough.
Eddie grabs Steve’s hand. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
Robin grabs his other hand. “If this would be too much, no one would blame you for walking away.”
Here in this small kitchen with old cabinets with squeaky hinges and tile that he absolutely hates. In a house that he bought on his own, for the family that he made, it’s finally starting to feel like a home.
The walls were never what made it empty. The unopened rooms and unused furniture. It was the energy that never flowed through the doors that made it devoid of all life. Sucking what it could from the person in it to make up for the loss. Now, as people come and go, as Steve and Julie live here, the house feels full.
With these people by his side that showed up by surprise. Chose him for whatever reason that he might never understand. But circumstances led them to each other, and they don’t leave. Even when he tried. Gave them the opportunity to. Yet, they stayed. Every. Single. Time. They helped him learn what home should feel like.
Steve is enough. He always was.
“I want to do this,” Steve says without a doubt in his voice. “Even if they still won’t believe it, or be pissed at me for the rest of their life. I want to show up to the court with rows of people behind me, while their side is empty. Show them the real thing they lost was me.”
. . .
When Julie gets home, she goes right to her room. Ignoring the happy mood Steve is in. Ignores the fact that she saw Eddie’s van drive down the street as she was biking home from school. Ignores the slight rumbles in her stomach and the ache in her legs. Lets her body fall limp onto her bed after her bag slips off her shoulder. Filled with work that won’t get done. Marked with a big red “F” when she turns them in blank.
Just adding on to how Julie is already feeling.
What would her mom say to her? Her daughter’s grade dipping. Another new home. Not eating. Slamming doors in the face of the one person who was beside her during all of this.
Liking girls.
She would pull some of her mom wisdom out of her ass for some of it. Not really helping or making much sense, but it worked out in the end. Julie always ended up figuring out something. Got better after some time and picked herself up again. Kept moving.
Time just keeps moving. It’s endless and doesn’t stop. Forcing all to move along with it. Whether they want to or not. Even when life gets in the way and forces them to stop. To become stuck. Julie feels stuck again. Did for a long time. It was easy to become stuck when there was security blanketed around her.
Julie doesn’t really feel like time moved as fast as it did. How it was six months, almost seven since her mom died. And Julie still feels like it was yesterday sometimes. Especially right now. Transported back to the day the police officers knocked on her door. Took her away. When she was frozen, but kept moving. Had to keep moving.
She doesn’t have to keep moving anymore. There’s no goal anymore. No checkmark in her progress or hurdle she has to jump over. Just a pile of tasks that are too overwhelming to acknowledge or unpack. So she lets them pile up. They aren’t important right now.
Julie winces when she tugs off a scab on her thumb. Starting the bleeding all over again. With a deep breath, she forces herself off the bed and to the bathroom. Digging for the first aid kit under the sink for another band aid. Ignoring her reflection in the mirror. The greasy strands of hair pulled back into a French braid. The dark circles around her eyes. That person isn’t her anymore.
Julie isn’t Julie right now. She’s something else. Unrecognizable. To herself. To her mom. To anyone.
“Hey, Julie,” Steve says before she can escape back to her room.
She takes another deep breath, ready to push him away again. Not ready for a talk. “What?” she asks, too tired to even sound pissed.
Steve holds out the phone. “Phone for you.”
Julie presses her lips together, taking the phone and holding it closer to her ear. Curling around herself. “Hello.”
“Julie, it is me, El.”
Great. “Hey, El. What’s up?” Julie tries to feign excitement. Terrified at the brief flutter of her heart that spawned by the sound of El’s voice.
“I realized I never got around to asking you this at lunch, but are you free next Friday?”
“Uh, I think so. I’ll have to double check.” No, she won’t. She doesn’t have anything going on, just wants to seem like she does.
“Would you like to come over for a sleepover? I know we just kind of had one, but I want a better one. And then Max can be there too.”
Julie doesn’t want a sleepover. Well, she does, but not one with Max. Because it would be Max and El on the bed. Because why would they make the girl in the wheelchair with chronic pain sleep on the air mattress on the floor. That’s rude and stupid. And it’s El’s room, so she would also be in the bed.
Meaning that Julie would be alone on the floor while her two friends share a bed. Which normally wouldn’t be a problem. Normally she wouldn’t care. But now she does. Because she knows what it’s like to sleep in the same bed as El and the midnight talks that are kind of really serious but also really nice. The nervousness that creeps under her skin every time El’s eyes meet hers. The pounding of her heart as she tries to get a singular word out.
But she can’t say no. Can’t see the disappointment in El’s face or hear it in her voice. Would rather be there, suffering in silence, than miss out on time with her friends. Which she would enjoy for a majority of it, and could kind of need right now.
“Sure,” Julie says. “If I’m free and everything.”
She wishes she sounded more excited, but she can’t.
“Yay. Let me know as soon as possible if you are free. I will see you at school tomorrow.”
Julie’s slight smile drops. “Yeah, tomorrow. Talk to you later.”
The phone clicks onto the receiver as tears start to spring to Julie’s eyes. For reasons she doesn’t really know why but feels deep inside her chest. A pain she’s never felt. Crushing. Terrifying. A tear rolls down her cheek as she runs to her room, wiping it away quickly so Steve doesn’t see.
But he sees.
“Hey, are you ok?” he asks as Julie crosses into her bedroom.
“Just leave me alone,” she yells with a sob, slamming her door. Right in his worried face.
She can’t even make it to her bed before she falls. Slamming her back into the door and pulling her knees close to her chest. Wet patches forming on her knees. Breathing in stutter breaths just to let them out as broken sobs. Trying to pull herself together. Trying to keep it quiet. Knowing Steve is right behind the door, wondering what he can do.
What Julie’s feeling can’t be fixed. No matter what she tries. No matter how hard she tries. She can’t be normal anymore.
A slip of paper gets slid under the door next to her. After the sobs start to slow and Julie can see things again. She picks it up, unfolding it.
When you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here.
All it does is start Julie’s sobs again. How could she have been so lucky to have someone so understanding waiting for her outside the door? When her life went to shit. When things just keep going to shit. He’s still there. Even when she slams doors in his face and uprooted his entire life.
Without even blinking, he’s still there.
“Steve,” she says to her empty room when the tears slow. Hoping he can hear.
“Yeah,” the answer comes from the other side of the door.
Julie lets out a wet laugh. “When you said you were waiting, I didn’t think it’d be right outside the door.”
“Well, technically, it’s right next to your door. Only since I slid the note, though. I gave you space for a bit.”
Her knees fall to the ground, hands falling in her lap. Resuming the picking of her unbandaged thumb. “I appreciate that.”
A beat of silence. “You’re talking to me again. Does that mean you want to talk about it?”
“Maybe, I’m not sure.” She takes a shaky breath. “I’m not sure how to talk about it.”
“That’s ok. Do you want to wait to talk about it, see if you can find the words later?”
Her head gently bangs against the door. Mind racing to find the words. To say something so he can find the solution for her and the pain can go away. But it all leads to a question so unfathomable that she can’t even bear to ask it. Gets mad at herself for even thinking about it.
She does though. Over and over again. Her mind finding answers she doesn’t like. Doesn’t want to believe were a possibility. Truth is, she will never have an answer to that question. No matter how hard she searches for one. The one person who can give it isn’t here anymore. Leaving an uncertainty that would weigh over her head forever.
“I’m sorry,” Julie says instead. Apologizing for the things she can instead of searching for what she can’t. “For slamming the door in your face.”
“You can slam the door in my face as many times as you need to. Just as long as you agree to talk to me about it, when you’re ready to. I may not always follow my own rules, but it’s better to talk about things before they start to build up.”
Julie wipes away the stray tear rolling down her cheek. Moving to pick at the strands of her jeans so she doesn’t need another band aid. “I think this has been building up for a while now. I just didn’t know it was there.”
There’s silence across the door for a minute or two.
“You know what I kind of really want right now, chocolate chip cookies,” Steve says suddenly.
It’s so random that is makes Julie laugh. “What?”
“Yeah, you know, freshly made, warm chocolate chip cookies. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Julie smiles. “That actually does sound kind of nice.”
“Great. I’m going to go make some, you can join me if you want.”
She does kind of want to. After taking a deep breath, Julie picks herself off the floor. Wincing at the soreness of her legs from sitting on rough carpet for so long. Opens the door and heads to the kitchen. Steve is pulling out one of the many cookbooks he stole from his parents and turning to a recipe. Starting to grab the different ingredients.
He smiles when Julie searches their cabinets, searching for the mixing bowl they also stole from his parents. Probably thinking he’s had some sort of victory over this. Maybe he has. She’s out of the room, and probably about to eat something. It’s a small victory for the both of them.
The oven takes an eternity to preheat. Leaving the rolled-out cookies on the stovetop. Some of them mysteriously gone missing. Well, not mysteriously, she had a few more than she should. But so did Steve, so it was fine.
When the cookies are finally baked, Steve waits a few minutes before placing some on a plate and bringing them over to the blanket pile that is still acting as a couch. But instead, some of the chairs hold up the blankets, making a small fort.
It reminds her of the ones her mom and her made during thunderstorms. When the trailer would shake with each boom, but not the fort. With soft pillows and flashlight shadow puppet stories. Falling asleep when the thunder was far enough away that it became calming. Paired with the patter of rain on the roof. They were always safe in the fort.
Julie was safe in the fort.
She breaks the cookie in her hand, the warm chocolate smearing across her fingertips. Melting in her mouth as soon as they hit. Giving her the energy to say what she needs to say. What she wants to say.
“You know it was El that called, right.” Julie breaks the cookie again. “Well, of course you know. You’re the one who gave me the phone.”
Steve sits straighter, giving Julie his full attention. “Yeah, I know.”
“She was asking if I was free next Friday, for a sleepover.” Her heart starts racing as the words still stay unsaid. Trapped in her throat, even though she knows he wouldn’t care about them.
“That sounds fun. Did you want to go?”
Julie continues to stare at her hands, unable to look up. “Yeah, I do. It’s just. It’s harder now. Because I think, no, I know that I.” She takes a deep breath. She can do this. “I have a crush. On El.”
Steve takes a second to respond. Keeping the moment tense. Julie can only hear the sound of her own heart beating.
“That would make it harder,” he finally says.
“Yeah,” Julie chokes as the tears start to form again. “Yeah, it really does.”
Steve moves the plate of cookies out from in between them before scooting closer. Reaching out to place a hand on Julie’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s ok.”
“No, it’s not,” Julie stops him before he can try to comfort her. “I hate that I’m like this. It’s terrifying. I don’t want like this to be but I am. And I’m going to screw everything up.”
She pulls her legs up to her chest again, the tears retracing their tracks down her cheeks. Even when she thought the wells had dried, it keeps flowing.
“I know exactly how you feel,” Steve exhales. “I felt the same way when I figured out I liked guys. So much so, that I pushed it down and forgot it for years. Kept pretending that this part of me wasn’t a part of me. Hated myself for it. Pushed that hatred outward toward people who didn’t deserve it. Just because I was so angry with myself that I couldn’t be normal.”
Julie clenches her eyes shut, trying to force the tears to stop flowing. Wanting this hurt to stop.
“There were a lot of factors that made me want to hide who I was, I think. My parents, mostly. My reputation. I was the kid that threw parties and had all the nicknames. Hawkins High School’s poster boy. A Harrington. Any wrong move and I was done for. I didn’t need that wrong move to be dangerous.”
She pulls herself more inward. Wondering if she becomes small enough, the problems will just go away. No longer hunting the prey hiding in the bushes.
“It took a lot for me to realize that I wasn’t-. That I wasn’t broken.” Steve takes a deep breath, clears his throat. “That this part of me was normal. Is normal. Just doesn’t always feel like it in a small town. It took meeting other people like me to realize that this was something I could be and still be happy. And believe me, there’s so much happiness waiting for you.”
“Doesn’t feel like it,” Julie mutters into her knees. “It feels like everything keeps breaking apart over and over again.”
“Yeah, yeah it does.”
Julie lifts her head up, finally turning to look at Steve. “I just don’t want to mess up one of the first friendships I’ve had in years because I can’t stop acting weird around her. I can hate myself all I want, I can’t make her hate me too.”
Steve takes a deep breath, turning himself so he’s facing Julie completely. “And you won’t. El is one of the most loving and forgiving people I have ever met. Well, when she cares about someone. She can be pretty brutal to the people who she doesn’t like, but that’s not the point. El cares about you, she won’t judge you for this.”
“I can get not judging me for the liking girls bit. But liking her?” Julie doesn’t know how that could ever work out in her favor.
“Ok, so this next part doesn’t directly apply to your problem. And I’m not sure if any of this is even helping, but it just feels like it needs to be said and I know he won’t care if I share this for him.” He takes another breath. “But Eddie and I were kind of going through this same problem with each other. Only difference is I knew he was gay, and he didn’t know I was.”
“And the only difference between that situation and this one is that yours was a success story,” Julie says before he can continue. Shocking him. “You two aren’t as good as hiding it as you think you are. I picked it up a while ago.”
Steve snorts. “Yeah, kinda figured. I’m more just trying to say that this thing you’re going through isn’t unique. Hell, half of the people in our group have had that feeling some way or another. And we’re still friends. You’re going to be just fine, trust me.”
Just fine doesn’t exactly sound like anything she wants to be. She’s been just fine for months. It’s kind of shitty. Not feeling like anything important, knowing she should be feeling more but can’t. Moving without really moving through life. Just going from one day to the next, them all blending together. Right up until fine becomes a lie again.
Until something unearths itself in the mind and can no longer be ignored. Brings all of its own problems and piles on top of all the others. Dragging up old baggage with it, only adding to the problem.
Leaving Julie with one more question she’s too afraid to ask.
So much in her life has changed. So much is different now. She’s a new person, one her mom wouldn’t recognize. Overwhelmed by grief. Brought into this large group of people, a giant family. Surrounded by people who are like her. Who show her that this is a life she could have. If she just put enough trust in herself.
If she put enough trust in her mom. And stopped wondering if she would still love Julie the same knowing that she will never marry a man. An answer Julie will never actually get.
Steve reaches out and pulls Julie into a hug. Comforts her the way a brother can, but it doesn’t bring the same comfort that Julie craves.
It’s things like this that makes Julie’s heart ache the most. How she will go through these big life events and never hear the same words of comfort again. Never have her mother’s weight sit on the foot of her bed, telling her it will all be ok. That no matter what, she will always love Julie. Never will stop as long as she lives. And even then, the love will transcend death and continue for infinity.
Nothing can stop infinity. Julie hopes that means nothing will stop her mother’s love either. Even this.
“Sorry for taking your coming out moment away from you,” Julie says after she calmed down. “I know you were waiting to tell me about it.”
Steve shrugs it off. “That’s ok. I was really dragging my feet with telling you, I’ve been ready for a while now, just didn’t know how to bring it up.”
“For what it’s worth, it kind of helped. Made me feel a little better knowing that I’m not alone in this.”
“You’re not alone in anything, Julie. No matter what, there will be people behind you. Whether that’s me, your friends, anyone else lucky enough to meet you.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Thanks, though.”
“It’s what I’m here for.”
. . .
The notice from the courthouse comes a week later. Alerting Steve that it’s time to approve the court date. One’s been selected for him, but can be pushed back if he needs it to. But it’s there. It’s real. This is actually happening.
He goes over the evidence again, confirms with Hopper that he can actually witness. Get the files all ready on his end. Then contacts his old nanny and gets talked into coming over for brunch. To catch up and see how he’s doing. Make sure she is what he needs for this case. Which she is. She was the longest one he ever had and was extremely meticulous. Most likely still has her pay stubs after all these years.
The last person he has to call is Nancy. Who doesn’t even know that he’s moved yet. Or that his parents are home.
It’s been a while since he’s called her, obviously, and he’s been avoiding it. Not wanting an earful of her again. But he needs to know when she’s back and if she’ll testify for him. She he dials her number.
“Nancy speaking.”
“Hey, Nance, it’s Steve. I have some things to catch you up on.”
She sighs. “Oh, I know. Robin refused to tell me anything about whatever’s going on. I think it was to force you to call me.”
“Yeah probably.”
After a long conversation and a lecture from Nancy on the importance of phone calls, she agrees to testify on his behalf. As both a character witness and also to back up some of the evidence he has.
Everything’s starting to get put together. Now all there is to do is wait.
Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis,
@ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi,
@cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet,
@steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy,
@connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso,
@crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @melonmochi
#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#julie lawson#nancy wheeler#el hopper#steddie#long lost/secret sibling#sibling au#i don't know which way's home fic#coming out#internalized homophobia
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Someone give Louis Tomlinson his flowers already!
I woke up early this morning, as I often do, thanks to years of working and horrible insomnia. And like most mornings these last few years, I grab my phone and begin to scroll my twitter feed. Louis had a show last night and I wanted to catch up on anything I might've missed once the show had ended and I headed to bed. Per usual, there is a lot of beautiful pics and tweets from concert attendees, waxing poetic about how good the show was and how proud of Louis they are. Typical fare for this fandom, nothing new to add.
I keep scrolling and I land an account, tweet sharing what looks like snippets from an "article" or "blog piece" (not sure which) from the "Medium". I stop dead in my tracks and read the multiple tweet thread of the most biased, vile drivel I've come across in a long time. And I've been here a while.
Firstly, opinions are just that, opinions. And this person's opinions are theirs and theirs alone but sadly, speak to a larger issue within music, the industry and the fandom experience itself.
This writer attended a Louis show with a friend who was a fan. Their only "knowledge" of him coming from this friend & any indirect knowledge because of his time in One Direction. But from the outset, the writing and pov, comes off immediately biased and judge-y.
"a sea of teeth in braces, puffy cheeks and pigtail buns" - commenting on the appearances of the young fans - note - very young fans "Most attendees are too young to drink legally". Because that's what matters about attending a show. Moving on.
"There are no dancers, there is no set piece, there is no stage show, no performance, no outfit changes"
Every artist curates their live show for themselves & their fans. To achieve the best possible experience and set expectations of how the night is going to go.
Louis has no illusions here. He is not "the greatest showman that ever lived" and HAS NEVER PRETENDED to be. He is a straightforward musician who's job it is to sing and engage with the fans. Which he does. For anyone paying attention, he's definitely come a very long way from those 1st early shows and is far more relaxed than he was back then. BUT and this is a huge but, to see and understand this, you have to know his journey and his story, which this person does not (though she does allude to knowledge of AOTV).
She even comments on it by calling him "the least memorable person in a lineup of five" the very criticism he levelled at himself. It's a gut punch to read a rando say something like this, which, we as his fans know, is something he had always been made to feel like while he was in the band, despite most of the 1D fans acknowleding the loved Louis, as did all the guys. Niall, calling him "the glue; the guy who made sure they didn't lose the plot". This is all surface, she doesn't know really know or see him or his lost potential. Nor is she likley to care.
The other thing that I find troubling, aside from her personal views of his singing talent and lacklustre show and personality, is the comments levelled at fans and their enjoyoment/appreciation of 'good music'.
I won't get into the 3 "types of fans" that she describes present at the show she attended because it doesn't matter to the point of my rant (though is it pretty basic & lacking nuisance but I digress). The one label that did stick out was the "cheerleader fan" and her opinion that these fans are only here to support Louis - who by her own opinion and pov, stated was the least successful/memorable and "is forever defined against his more popular former band mate" for unknown reasons. I'm assuming she thinks they are here because they find him cute? Not sure.
"For the Underdog Cheerleaders, it’s not about music so much as it is about identifying with... the least memorable person in a lineup of five" because identifying with an artist is problematic? Dumb? Unimportant? Allow me to show you the stadiums filled with Taylor's fans, who all identify with her and her music.
That is sort of the fan's job. To support and champion their fave, especially when they are not given their proper due. Now I'm not mentioning TS and comparing her to Louis or vice versa, that woman has GOTTEN ALL HER FLOWERS and good for her, but she goes on to claim that "his lines are almost comically generic" speaking about his songwriting. This clearly tells me she wasn't paying attention or was at the bar or bathroom & must've been absent when Copy of a Copy of a Copy was performed. Or when he sang All this Time or Holding on to Heartache. Because you would have to be dead inside to not have had a reaction to the bridge of HOTH & not hear the emotion in his voice as exhales those words, "Nothing's ever easy, to be honest, I'm not easy on myself". Those lines cut me and left me bleeding on the side of the road when I first heard them. But you know, comicially generic. Whatever.
This entire article reads like a hit piece bought and paid for by some industry insider. She literally lists every critiques antis, toxic Harries and Swifties and even Simon himself have levelled at Louis over the years. But this article doesn't require a conspiracy theory to explain. She doesn't like Louis. Or his music. She finds him boring, and apparently isn't a "deep enough lyricist" for her cold, cerebal mind to engage with.
"I’m left wondering what all these thousands of young fans really care about...it doesn’t really seem to be about the music...at its innermost core, this fandom is about itself."
Let me first say this, music, like most are is subjective. It's personal taste. Some fans love country. Some love rock. Some love Classic metal punk with a side of Beethoven. It's music and because it is one of the most uniquie artforms, its enthusiasts will engage and appreciate it for different reasons. And one of the most amazing things about being a fan of music in this day and age, is fandom.
I am old as fuck. And I can genuinely say that being a fan of music since I was 8 years old and first discovered what the radio did in my parent's living room, I have been a fucking fan. But I grew up in a time where there were no online fandoms. No one to scream about Simon's cute outfit or Billy's snarling at an interviewer that one time, or dying with when Jon BonJovi cut his hair. It was a different fan experience back then. There was no online community. No fandom family to go through it with you when Wham broke up.
Fandom has always been controversial because it has always mostly been made up of young women. And young women have had their taste in music disrespected and vilified for decades (starting with the Beetles). Research it. So I find it kind of sad this writer questions why these fans love Louis and his music so much. Because the reasons don't matter. There are many or none. They just are. That's sort of how art works. You feel it. You don't really see it with your eyes but your mind. Your skins senses it before your heart does. And that is how music is or should be. It should not just be about catchy pop one liners or streams or charting. It's about how it makes you feel. The memories it in invokes when you hear a song many years later. It's the way we still remember the words to that one song from the summer during our 3rd year of high school. How do you quantify that? You can't.
I grew up during a very rich and varied musical landscape, so when I tell you that I have loved almost every genre of music, I have loved it for many, many different reasons. Sometimes (when I was younger) because the lead singer was cute and dressed nice and other times because the beat/bop was too good to ignore to not want to sing from the top of my lungs. NEVER ONCE DID I CARE IF THE LYRICS WERE "GENERIC" or that it wasn't popular among my friends or that it didn't fill my head with mythical imagery. If it made me happy and it entertained me, then it was enough for me. Not every artist is going to be Bob fucking Dylan or Taylor Swift. And that's okay. But Louis IS a great song writer and he himself has said he's not big on writing metaphors and cares more about conveying an emotion and a moment in time and we find that engaging. We are still moved when he sings "Saved by Stranger" or Paradise or Change. Because they are good songs that convey a particular moment, sentiment or emotion we can all connect with.
Look, I respect that not everyone is going to 'get' everyone's fave. I don't get Taylor Swift, but I can acknowledge that she has talent but I don't fucking need a show to enjoy her music. But she does that because SHE enjoys that and it definitely helps justify the cost of her tickets. No disrespect, I blame TM for that, mostly.
"To his credit, he really doesn’t pretend to be more than he is — that’s all other people‘s doing"
And that is sort of the point of him. He is not pretending to be something he is not. He is geniune and down to earth and not full of himself like so many other successful artists are and can be. He earned the right to put on airs coming out of 1D and their success. But he doesn't. He says, "this is who I am, take it or leave it" and for his fans, they take it, in spades.
So go read the article for context (or don't - it's probably better for you blood pressure & mental health) but understand that this one person's pov, is not going change who we are as a fandom. We see something in Louis that resonants with us. Maybe it's the "underdog" mentality. Maybe it's the 'cute lad from the north of England' vibe. Maybe it's his no nonsense approach to song writing and performing, but there is no denying there is something about Louis Tomlinson that draws you to him. You want to engage with him. You want to sing his songs. And you do. We all do.
So please, someone give this man his flowers. They are long fucking over due.
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i go into the six tag because i live nowhere near broadway and can’t see it but i want gifs and clips of the dialogue
i immediately see a take that says that six is anachronistic for no good reason and has a shallow take on the wives of henry viii, completely ignoring that the each song starts with the “silly” and well known stereotype of that woman before unraveling it to reveal that even when they actively pursue henry, in the end the power difference is so great that their choices are illusions meant to play into henry’s ego & ideas of true love & pursuit of a healthy male heir, how do you look at anne practically sobbing out “like what was i meant to do?” when she realizes she’s going to die and jane spending half her “love” song crying that she’ll never see her son grow up, like katherine parr literally spells out that she did all of these feminist things & got mary & elizabeth back into the line of succession & tried to help raise them but no one remembers bc her legacy begins and ends with a husband she didn’t even particularly like, and come to the conclusion that the musical is shallow it just doesn’t beat you over the head with its message that’s all, why are we all incapable of seeing subtlety anymore dammit and-
i eject myself from the six tag.
#six the musical#the refrain of ‘what was i meant to do’ the POINT is that she makes these unlikeable choices bc they’re all she has to keep herself safe!!#the way her dream doesn’t even involve her child like jane it involves her having the ability to say NO.#down to the way her dress has a silhouette so harsh it makes her virtually untouchable!!#the only one with a silhouette as harsh as hers is katherine of aragon who decides to go to a NUNNERY. who spends her song equally angry#about how henry is allowed to have affairs while she’s supposed to just grin and bare it!#LIKE. IF YOU DONT UNDERSTAND MUSICAL THEATER DONT SPEAK ON IT!!!#rani makes text posts no one will read
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confession i miss homestuck. i miss drawing it i miss reading it. dont …. overly miss the fandom tho
#not touching any of thr post ending stuff w a 50 ft pole. BUT#i read the epilogues tho. when they came out. dark dark times#i do miss it. i think the themes r super fun and the characters r silly#and the music and animations r bangers.#ive said like so many times i cant allow myself to reread tho bc ik ill get sucked into an endless vortext of hyperfixation again#what have i to lose tho i suppose. im already a rnm fan i cant go much lower
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i'm SO bored anything save me for the love of god
#technically i could read. i could watch a new musical.#my attention span however does not allow it#i could write. if i didn't have writer's block#i could draw but i've already been doing enough of that#WHAT DO I DOOOO
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I love the fact that Yunho stayed true to his artistry throughout the years. Sadly the same can’t be said for younger male idols like Taemin or Kai, in my opinion, who strayed so far away from what we saw of them doing in their groups. And it got me thinking; how much of it is them and how much of it is SM’s marketing strategy? How can their group self and solo self be soooo different? For me they’re not selling their solo self well enough to convince me that that them you know what I am? It feels almost like they’re acting (yes, every performer acts a little bit) but with Kai and Taemin it looks like they’re both playing a role…
#i genuinely do not know how to answer this sldkfsdkljfsldkjf#but you probably should have read more than one post on my blog before you sent this#considering i 1) have several of the top posts in the taemin meta tag#and 2) one of the things i talk about quite frequently is about HOW ACTING IS IMPORTANT TO GOOD PERFORMANCE#unironically: do you think every idol is totally genuine in their performances? and that 'playing a role' means something is bad art??#bc if you do you need to get a grip real quick darling bc i can guarantee that even yunho is 'playing a role'#...do you not think that human beings have depth??? that they can want to portray more than one thing in different performances???#look. if you dont like taemin and kai's solo work that's totally fine. you are allowed to have your opinions and disliking things is fine#but to say that neither of them are 'selling' their work well enough to you bc it 'looks like theyre acting'??????#kindly but what the fuck is wrong with you#what the fuck else do you want them to DO????????#taemin especially has talked a LOT on many separate occasions for many years now about how much artistic input he has and how he makes work#also also: literally WHO CARES if its sm marketing?? i'm here for the music and for the performances not some weird parasocial shit#i am under no impression that i know anything about these artists' personal lives or what theyre really like and i dont care to know#all i care about is the work that gets produced and if its good or not#text#answers#i cant believe someone had the audacity to send ME. A TRAINED THEATRE PROFESSIONAL!! the phrase ''yes every performer acts a little bit''#do you hear yourself. do you.#i almost thought this was bait bc you literally managed to hit every point i would strongly disagree with you on#like some kind of perverse internet argument bingo. i feel like i should applaud you. well done!#hall of fame asks
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Me: Bruh, you know what. Mob kind of reminds me of Sunny............................. It’s been such a time since I last listenned to The Final Duet from OMORI. I should 100% re-watch this extremely emotional, impactful, culmination of all the game’s struggles and conflicts scene. It def won’t absolutely BREAKS ME DOWN and left me emotional for the rest of the morning :)
asdfghjksdfghj guess I literally walked on this one xD
Anyway!! On a literal and totally unrelated note I finally f i n a l l y got a new phone and hoooly gosh. It was really unexpected (I was thinking I only would get one in March maybe February) so it will take a bit to get used to it but!!! I can’t wait to start rb-ing a bunch of stuff again!!!!!! Y e s
#omori spoilers#on the tags#BRUH I WISH SO MUCH TO HAVE THE HEART TO WATCH ANOTHER LET'S-PLAY FROM OMORI BUT IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL AND SAD I TRULY CAN'T BRING MYSELF TO DO#*to do it#Anyway guess who watched that Final Duet and cried like there was no tomorrow because Sunny finally forgives himself.#He finally allow himself to move foward. He say goodbye to his sister and it breaks him but he finally begins to collect the pieces and-#-stop ignoring the reality#such a sad hopeful ending full of bittersweet aaaa#My brain: you know what would be cool? An AU where Mob is Sunny // Me: bold words for someone who comes in a puntable size#Kanene being Kanene#Anyway now I am listening to 'Best Day Ever' from the SPongebob Musical non stop sdfghjkjhgf#love this song#Bruh I think I went like 10 months without a phone and sdfghjkjhg I literally forgot how much GOOD is to finally being able to read fics#without worrying about someone finding on their hystoric and reading them too#and downloading my reaction pics I will finally be able to have a bunch of them again!!!!#b l e s s
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it’s 3am and I’m thinking about how I have thousands of scars that my body will bear for the remaining of my life and I got almost all of them within 5 years of my life
#I’m not self concious surprisingly if there’s one unattractive thing about myself I don’t care about it’s the scars#but its#im thinking about jt#I’m kinda drunk and mad sleep deprived#like at that age I wasn’t allowed to do anything. anything. for my self#I didn’t decide when I slept when I ate what I ate when I drank water when I could use the bathroom where I could be and when I could be the#what I was allowed to read what I was allowed to do the music I listened to what I wore what I wanted what I did and what I would do#but the one single thing I could do I could get away with and no one could stop me . I don’t mind it at all. I have no regrets. never have#imagine how things coukdve been if I coukdve just. existed. if I’d been allowed to live my own life.#I dont wanna think about that christ I didnnot sign up for this tonight#im just thinking#I’m 21 and I’m not sure of anything I don’t know when I want to sleep when and what I should eat I forget to drink water and I don’t know#Im scared of breathing too loud I dont know what i want i dont know whats good for me i dont know anything cause i haven’t fucking done anyt#anything#I dont wanna think about it more#i just#I’m covered in scars and the only thing I regret is not doing worse cause maybe then I could’ve done something better you know#maybe i wouldn’t be a fucking coward#cant take care of myself now but I know that when I was still collecting them the scars#i knew better than anyone else what i needed#where did i lose it#whenre did i find it#i wish i was 15 again high on pills cutting myself writing my suicide note my head clearer than its ever been since#did i really survive#i think ive died before i really think i did#I’m not sure i want to come back tk life#csnt keep not living like this either#can’t fucking make a choice#if you read this dont talk tk me about jt dont send anything dont#i wish i was 15 again and i could kill myself knowing skmeone else would be blamed. I wish I wasnt too old to be killed or saved
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Am I Playing All Right Now?
Kento Nanami x You
Explicit Smut 18+ (🚫Minors DNI🚫)
Kento Nanami has been your respectful, loving boyfriend for two months now. All you’ve done so far is kiss, and you want more with him. He refuses for your sake, warning of his roughness. So, you take matters into your own hands and convince him to put in ‘just the tip’.
Relevant tags: just the tip challenge, dom! Kento Nanami, clothed sex, couch sex, clit slapping, brief use of leather belt, hard and rough sex, doggy-style, hair pulling, manhandling, big dick-Nanami <3, dirty talk, degrading, unprotected sex, creampie, I don't use "y/n" for immersion
Music recommended while reading: Dollhouse (The Weekend, Lily Rose Depp, …baby one more time (The Marias), Like U (Rosenfeld)
A/N: this is filthy and I love it, my first Nanami piece <3 enjoy!! (Read on Ao3 if you prefer!)
Read below cut:
The night had gone great. You two had a fantastic dinner at a fine restaurant, and now you’re at his house, getting hot and heavy on the couch. You’re sat in his lap, straddling his waist, the hem of your dress riding up your thighs as the fabric gives to accommodate him between your legs. Your hands are running over the muscles of his chest, only the thin layer of his dress shirt between your touch and his skin. His palms are on your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you so firmly against him that you can feel the blunt heat of his hard cock beneath the confines of his slacks.
You can feel adrenaline pumping through your veins–tonight is the night. Every time you two get close to having sex, he pulls away, saying he isn’t ready, but right now it feels so different, so electric–
He hums, punctuating the kiss and pulling back, giving you room to breathe. Your stomach sinks, no, this isn’t what you want, you want–
“We should stop here for the night,” He murmurs, and you look into his eyes, a frown tugging your lips down at their corners.
“But you’re hard,” You protest, “Kento, please…we’ve waited long enough, and you clearly want this…”
His jaw tightens as he takes a breath. “I do…but we can’t.”
Now you’re just confused. “...can’t?”
He sighs heavily, giving you no explanation, but nodding. “Now, let’s m–”
“No, hold on,” You interrupt him, “Kento, tell me why? I-is it me? Do you…not want…?”
“It’s definitely not you,” He dispels quickly, “It’s me, okay?”
“What about you?” You press, searching his eyes. “Is it…are you…worried about your performance?”
That gets him to widen his eyes a fraction in surprise. “N-no, it’s not that. It’s…alright, look, it’s…it’s that I don’t want to hurt you.”
It isn’t enough of an answer for you. “And…what do you mean by that?”
“You…you know me to be this nice, gentlemanly man, don’t you?” He asks, a sort of resigned weight to his eyes. “Which, I am. But not when it comes to sex.”
The wheels turn in your head. “So…you’re…?”
“I’m rough,” He finally states, “And it’s…it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m afraid to hurt you or scare you away. Of course I wouldn’t do anything you don’t want, but…you just seem so sweet and–”
“Woah,” You stop him in the middle of his sentence. “Do you think you’re the only one with duality? You don’t think I can be different in bed? Do you think I’m some porcelain doll you’ll break if you’re not careful?”
He considers this for a moment before sighing. “You don’t understand.”
“So then make me understand,” You challenge him, running your hands up his chest. “Please, Kento. I can take it.”
“No,” He denies, “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
Seeing his hesitance, you decide to switch tactics. You reach for his hands on your waist, taking his wrists and raising his palms up to the front of your dress. You guide them to rest over your breasts, allowing him to touch them through the thin cloth. You’d decided not to wear a bra for the night since the article had thin straps, and he immediately can feel that, a flash of desire flitting within his eyes.
Riding the wave of his interest, you tell him, “I want you bad, Kento.”
He inhales forcefully, allowing himself to knead the soft flesh beneath his hands. His thumbs graze over your hardening nipples, your teeth dragging over your bottom lip instinctively. To drive your point home, you grind down on him, the only thing on beneath your dress being the panties you’d hoped he’d see when you had put them on earlier in the day.
“You’re playing dangerous,” He warns, voice thin and strained.
“Maybe I want dangerous.”
He finally lets out a groan, surging forward and capturing your lips in another kiss. It’s more forceful this time, and all you can do is give complete control to him.
He flips your positions so smoothly, you hardly feel it; you just suddenly feel your back hit the cushion of his couch, a gasp pushed from your mouth. His hands make quick work sliding up your dress, fingers hooking underneath your waistband.
Kento speaks against your mouth lowly. “Lace?”
You swallow hard, nodding. “Yeah.”
“Expensive?”
The question catches you off guard. “Uh, no, not r–”
A swift, harsh tug and the sound of fabric ripping later, he holds the scrap lace in his hand, now mangled and unusable. He just tore them clean off.
“Holy shit,” You breathe, now suddenly aware of how bare you are beneath your dress. He must become aware of that fact too, because without a moment to spare, he’s pushing the article up to your waist, exposing you to his eyes. A rosy flush spreads over the bridge of your nose as he looks at your naked lower half unabashedly, a type of hunger you have never seen before nor known he was capable of in his eyes.
He tosses your ruined panties to the floor and fiddles with his belt, undoing the buckle. Your gaze follows his movements, watching his hands expertly tug the leather strap from its loops in his pants.
Then, he surprises you by holding the edge without the buckle and running it along your inner thigh. You shiver, observing him and wondering what his next move will be. He runs it all the way up, reaching the apex of your leg and placing it right over your mound. The cool leather feels unfamiliar there.
“Can I?”
Your attention is pulled to his voice, and for a moment you aren’t sure what he means. Then it dawns on you.
Oh.
No one’s ever done that to you. But…you aren’t opposed. You’re curious.
You nod.
“Words.”
Oh, damn.
“Yes, you can.”
“Good girl.”
You don’t have time to pay attention to the rush of hormones that praise gives you, because a harsh sting of pleasure suddenly hits your senses as he brings the end of the belt down, slapping your clit with it.
“Ah!” You jump slightly, shock, arousal, and fascination flooding you all at once.
“How was that?” He asks, watching you carefully. You take stock of yourself…and are intrigued to find that you liked it. As soon as you realize that, you understand that Kento is about to show you an entire new world previously unexplored to you.
Your eyes lock with his. “It was good.”
A mixture of relief and desire swarm his gaze. “You liked that?”
“Yeah.”
Without warning, he does it again, a little harder, and you cry out this time, unused to the strangely welcome sensation.
“Still good?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.”
Your next breath is shaky. “More.”
He wastes no time in delivering exactly what you want. Over and over again, until your pearl is red and swollen and the folds beneath are glistening with need, belt shiny with a bit of it. He stops once you reach this state, making sure you see as he licks it off the belt. Your lips part, entranced, and he drops the accessory, instead moving to undo the front of his slacks. Your heart begins racing–but then he pauses, seeming to deflate slightly.
“I’m not gonna go all the way,” He states, “I don’t have condoms.”
“What?” Your voice is more than a little indignant. “But…how?”
“I wasn’t planning to do this tonight.”
He pulls his cock from its restriction in his briefs, pushing his waistbands down to the tops of his thighs, and the sight of the thick, red shaft as your mouth watering and your core pulsing around nothing.
You think he’s changed his mind as he lines it up, but then he just glides it against your folds, coating it in your essence and using it to rub against you, the feeling intense due to the sensitivity of your previously abused clit, but not what you crave.
“Kento,” You whimper, watching him rub himself off as he plays with you using his cock. “Please…”
“We’re not risking a pregnancy,” He maintains, “It’s not wise.”
You are beyond frustrated at this point, entrance weeping for attention, and you swear the desire is so bad you can feel your entire core sore and empty, vying to be filled and stretched.
What can you say that will get him to do it, even just a little bit?
Wait. Just a little bit.
“What about just the tip?”
His eyes narrow. “What?”
“Just the tip,” it comes out needier than you had intended, but god damn it you’re horny and all out of shame twice over.
Kento takes a good look at you, at himself and the position you’re in, sucking in a controlled breath for the umpth time that night.
Then, he lines up again, cockhead pressing against your entrance. “You’re going to regret asking for it.”
Is he challenging you? Whatever. What. Ever. You’ve reached a point where if you don’t get his cock soon your heart may actually give out.
“Let me decide that.”
His jaw sets tightly before finally, finally, he cants his hips forward, pushing the tip of his shaft inside of you.
As soon as it’s in, your head falls back on the couch, hips starting to roll without your permission. Your body wants him all on its own, and you’re no longer in command of it. He groans, pulling out and then pushing it back in, only the tip again, and you whimper in half bliss and half frustration.
You want more.
You understand the true meaning of temptation now. You’ve had the first bite of the proverbial apple, and it’s shocking how eager you are to devour the rest to its core.
Everytime he pushes in, never going past the smooth head of his cock, you moan, wordlessly begging for more. There’s a worry in his brow and a tenseness to his jaw that indicates just how much self-control he’s exercising, and as you look up at him, you realize he’s still pretty much fully clothed—his tie is pristine around his neck, shirt fully buttoned up, only his dick out and vulnerable to your eyes.
It’s unfair, and you seek to change that.
Your hand loops into his tie and yanks him down by it, taking him by surprise. He has to catch himself on his hands to avoid falling on you, a grunt escaping his lips as it causes him to slide further into you.
In a lowered hiss, he asks you, “what do you think you’re doing?”
The tone is so vindictive it has any words dying on your tongue. All it takes is a moment before he’s forcefully breathing out and lifting himself off of you, cock withdrawing from between your legs.
You open your mouth to protest, and that’s when your world spins.
You were face up, but now you’re on your hands and knees on the couch, having to brace yourself as he manhandles you silently. There’s not even a moment for you to acclimate to your new position before you feel his fingers loop through your hair as you’d done to his belt, and in one motion, he grabs your hip with his free hand and slams all the way into you, pulling your hair back hard to make you arch for him.
A loud cry splits through the air and it’s only when he starts repeatedly fucking hard and fast into you with the entirety of his monstrous size that you realize the sound was from you.
“See what happens when you push me?” His voice is hoarse and gritty, more like a growl than a whisper, a dull ache inside of you where he’s currently remolding the shape of your walls.
All you can do is make incoherent noises, and you aren’t sure whether they’re from pain, pleasure, or a mixture of both. His grip on your hair isn’t letting up and it hurts, but you’ve also never felt so completely out of control of yourself and somehow it just feels freeing to you.
“Huh?” He asks, and it’s then you realize you never replies to him verbally. You muster up the strength to speak.
“Y-yeah…” it sounds breathy and whiney, completely foreign in the contours of your voice.
“You happy now? Happy you got me to fuck you like the greedy whore you are?”
The harsh word ripples through you hotly and you moan, nodding as good as you can. “Yes…”
“Yes?” He asks, breathless, and he lets go of your hair in favor of wrapping his hand around your neck from behind. “You like being screwed like a whore?”
Apparently, you do. This is new information to you as well. You nod, gasping as he grabs your hand and presses it over your abdomen, where you can feel the flesh rising and falling in tandem with his thrusts.
“Feel that?” He asks, “that’s me inside of you.”
“Oh god,” You rasp, the knowledge of him so deep inside your body going right to your head. You can feel your mound weeping all over yours and his thighs, the wet slap tell-tale of just how much you’re enjoying this. Just the realization has you fluttering around him, a sensation that isn’t lost on him.
“Fuck,” he breathes, “You really do like this, huh?”
You nod. “Yes, yes, Kento…”
He groans, leaning forward and kissing the juncture of your neck and shoulder, brushing your hair out of the way.
“Such a good girl for me…my good little slut.”
You shudder, eyes squeezing shut as he speeds his movements up, the hand that was pressing yours to your stomach moving down to the slippery mess that is your swollen clit.
The big palm of his on your neck slides the thin straps of your dress down your shoulders and dips into the neckline of it, grasping your breast as if to claim ownership of it.
“Oh my god,” You breathe again, hips twitching at all of the stimulation, face hot, entrance thoroughly fucked open and sloppy, debauched by Kento like a destructive form of artwork.
His middle finger massages circles into your sensitive pearl as he continues the grueling pace of his hips, lips pressed to the back of your neck, and all at once it becomes too much.
It crashes into you like the unforgiving wave of the raging ocean, sweeping you into the depths of pleasure.
You cum so hard on his cock he physically has to stop moving, your hold on him so tight he’s locked inside of you. That’s the moment that he follows, spilling his pent up, heavy load into you with a hiss of pleasure.
Your arms and knees feel like jelly. Your walls are sore and throbbing, completely exhausted from his ravaging. But all you feel is feather-light. Finally, finally you did it. And it was better than your wildest imagination.
Lips place a tender kiss on your shoulder, his labored breaths slowing back to regulation. You feel his cheek rest upon the skin of your upper back. Both of his hands massaging along the sides of your hips.
“I’m sorry we waited so long. I just figured it would be too intense for you.”
You shake your head, turning it to look back at him as he straightens up and carefully pulls out.
“Don’t do that again.”
The corner of his lips turns up slightly. “Oh no, I won’t make that mistake twice. In fact…there’s something else I want to do now.”
“And what’s that?”
“I want to test your limits.”
__
A/N: here's my Nanami masterlist :) this is the first piece but lmk what else you want me to write for him! Hope you enjoyed.
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk imagines#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#nanami smut#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami#nanami fanart#nanami x you#nanami x y/n
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i’m so totally normal about the fact that aziraphale’s last (known) deliberate foray into the queer community was when he learned the gavotte at the fictionalized hundred guineas club (!!!) in the 1800s and now in the 2020s he’s like “grindr? what’s that?”
many are talking about his repression which is very valid… and yet the thing to me that stands out about aziraphale is that he’s actually… incredibly stable in his identity and that identity IS incredibly queer. queer by the standards of heaven AND by human standards as well
metatron describes his “de facto partnership” with crowley as “irregular.” and in fact aziraphale in his entirety is irregular. he likes and makes it his business not only to understand but to be a connoisseur of all manner of things angels aren’t supposed to even remotely care about. food. music. books. theatre. sleight of hand. and more.
it’s the sort of behavior that would’ve gotten him othered, treated as a bit odd, in heaven even if he hadn’t chosen to consort all across the earth with a literal demon. and it IS treated that way - the fact is aziraphale even as an angel has got proclivities that set him apart from the rest of the host (even after offering him the highest position in heaven, metatron still acts deeply dismissive of him… like aziraphale’s bookshop is merely a quaint little hobby of his that can be easily transferred to another custodian, and not a literal extension of who aziraphale has become, full of his tartan and unique bibles and special vintages of wine and the books arranged in a very specific way)
so. aziraphale is a queer angel but of course he’s also queer to other humans. but in such a way that… he had his realization a LONG time ago, and put the matter very much to rest after that. aziraphale is perpetually something like several centuries behind schedule. he owns an ancient computer that probably continues to run windows 98 simply because aziraphale’s decided it should. he wears the same waistcoat and coat for generations because he simply likes them precisely the way they are and sees no reason to change them. but the idea that he doesn’t know how he comes across to others - of course he does. he knows he looks like your prim and proper grandfather and he prefers it that way
aziraphale looked around at humans in the 1880s and said: ah yes. this is where i fit. and promptly ensconced himself in that queer subculture. learned the gavotte. read his austen. loved crowley from afar. aziraphale is fiercely and vibrantly queer. just with the sort of assurance of someone who lives with his lover in a commonlaw marriage for decades and then shows up at city hall for the certificate once society decides it’s ‘allowed.’ like… he hasn’t had any need to know what grindr is because aziraphale’s ‘scene’ was a century and a half ago and it defined romance for him too.
but my favorite thing about aziraphale is how much of him is about appearances versus the truth. he can lie straight to angels’ faces and sleep at night. he knows he comes off soft but he once wielded a flaming sword. he dissembles helplessness but he’s far from it and he knows precisely how it makes others treat him. and at the core of aziraphale is rigidity, inflexibility of ideas… his sense of self is stable where crowley’s is malleable, and so on, and so on
and the fact that he’s continuously fixated on trying to misguidedly do the right thing, the fact that he seeks heavenly approval and wants to fit the world into his schema of good vs evil… in no way do i think that means he isn’t one hundred percent aware of how he feels about crowley or what it means about him by angelic or human standards. i’ve seen some folks saying that aziraphale doesn’t want to like kissing crowley and like… as much as i love me some brideshead revisited/atonement flavored angst; i put forth that it’s not internalized homophobia or queer panic but simply: “i’m trying to do the right thing for both of us and you won’t let me.” and “i wanted our first kiss to be different.” he was envisioning an entirely different flavor of romance than what he got but he emma woodhoused too close to the sun
like, y’all. aziraphale in all likelihood has a glorious collection of historical queer erotica. he just has a feathery diva coat hanging in his closet, and for what. “oh, good lord” he says at crowley’s revolutionary outfit in the bastille, while eyeing him up like an entire meal. he’s so good at affected propriety, at carefully constructed stuffiness, but between the two of them aziraphale’s got to be the one who has experience
aziraphale had been physically throwing himself at crowley the entire season. he orchestrated an entire regency ball so they could touch hand to hand. he spends the entire season (well, and season 1) looking at crowley like he’s particularly coveted. he looked at crowley before the fall like he was glorious and beautiful. aziraphale’s queer and he knows it and i think that isn’t his problem, it’s the fact that he wants to build a different sort of future for the two of them but crowley’s gone and thrown a wrench in it by reminding him of everything he can finally have. like. that’s the heartbreak. it’s how dare you make this ugly? i forgive you for our first kiss being all pain and salt. it’s my dearest, i wanted to make heaven as beautiful as you deserve. as sacred and safe for us as our bookshop. and i can do that for us, because once i held a flaming sword and i still remember how the hilt felt in my hands. and now the taste of you is in my mouth.
#coughs this is also why aziraphale’s a dom. but that’s a separate post#good omens#good omens 2#ineffable husbands#good omens 2 spoilers#this continues to be an aziraphale stan account#‘aziraphale is traumatized’ and ‘aziraphale celebrates the part of himself that loves crowley’ are two ideas that can coexist#feeling a bit like this take might get me flamed whoops but. i’m deep in my az feelings tonight so i guess i’ve decided to share anyway
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