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okaybutlikeimagine · 5 years ago

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hi there, please listen to the song Tommy’s Party - Peach Pit (link goes to YouTube)

okay now i want you to do something we don’t do a lot on this particular blog. I want you to think about Tommy H.

and i’m going to warn you now that this is angsty so…

TW: internalized homophobia, unrequited Tommy/Steve, mentions of/implied sex, swearing

okay. Imagine Tommy H. as a little baby toddler, first or second day of kindergarten, trying to find a friend and seeing a little baby toddler Steve Harrington. Imagine it’s snack time and he needs someone to sit next to and there’s Steve, the kid only the other rich kids know bc Steve was rich enough to go to preschool. Tommy didn’t get that luxury. but Tommy likes Steve’s hair and his little sweater bc it looks soft. and so imagine a wobbly, nervous Tommy walking right up to Steve, aware of the warning his mom has given him loads of times now about being “gentle” bc he’s an “active kid” who gets a little too “overexcited” and ��likes to hit”. Imagine him sticking a single little finger out, overextending it like that’ll make him more careful, and tapping Steve on the shoulder a few times. Very clear and direct. Imagine Steve turning around, hearing that request of “Wanna sit with me for snack time?” and knowing full well he already has a group of friends to go to, but seeing this new boy and liking his freckles. bc imagine a baby Steve being told by his mom that freckles are kisses from angels so this kid must be extra special to get so many extra kisses. Imagine that as the start of their friendship.

and imagine all of the other times Tommy has gotten Steve’s attention as they get older. imagine that single finger that eventually evolved into a whole, flat hand patting Steve’s shoulder gently, to the light slap of the back of his hand to Steve’s arm, to more and more playful actions, knocking into each other gently, always garnering a smirk or a laugh from one another. a secret code for them.

but don’t imagine it getting violent. don’t imagine it suddenly having mal-intent. don’t imagine Steve giving Tommy any reason to be pissed off or vice versa. don’t imagine them fistfighting in that parking lot, Tommy with tears boiling hot and searing behind his eyes bc Steve’s stupidly pretty face is the last thing he’d wanna fuck up this bad but hey, if it’s gonna get fucked up it’s gonna be by him goddamnit bc this is his best fucking friend and no one else gets to touch him but Tommy.

don’t imagine Steve seeing that freckled, “angel kissed” face turn blurry and red.

….

but do imagine the boys being friends. growing up together, like two peas in a pod. imagine their parents meeting for the first time and not getting along too well bc they’re from different backgrounds, different social classes, and they’re not mentally equipped enough to comprehend that but both sides are able to share a smile at their two boys who are running around like little menaces, laughing and shrieking and enjoying themselves. imagine Tommy and Steve being close. real close. physically close. imagine them sitting next to each other every day at lunch. imagine Steve making Tommy laugh so hard that he shoots milk out of his nose and Steve sitting so close to him that it gets all over his clothes too. imagine both of them not caring, not even Steve, who knows he’s gonna get hellfire when his parents see what happened to his nice shirt. imagine them always bumping shoulders when they walk and kicking feet when they sit next to each other and holding hands when one leads the other.

don’t imagine them getting bullied for it one day. don’t imagine someone shouting cruel names at them for being two boys that are close.

and don’t imagine them internalizing it either. don’t imagine them drifting further and further away. don’t imagine them evolving from sitting close to standing on the opposite ends of their friend group to nodding at each other on the other side of a party.

you can imagine Steve being invited to one of Tommy’s parties. Like he always fucking is. imagine steve always being the first one on the metaphorical “list” of invitees.

you can even imagine Steve enjoying himself. Steve being a little social butterfly at fucking 15. already knowing how to hold his alcohol fairly well bc he’s been sneaking his dad’s alcohol and his mom’s wine for at least a year now. maybe a little over. you can imagine Steve getting tipsy and watching girls get tipsy and them both getting handsy to the point that they’re clumsily groping on Tommy’s couch. where Tommy sits to eat his cereal and watch cartoons in the morning. where Tommy used to eat cereal and watch cartoons with Steve when the two would have sleepovers back in the third grade.

but don’t think about Tommy thinking about that.

no no, don’t imagine Tommy getting sad over it. real fucking sad. don’t imagine Tommy in love with Steve to the point that it hurts to see him with someone else. don’t imagine Tommy suddenly wishing he hadn’t invited anyone bc he wants to be the only one at the other end of Steve’s fucking tunnel vision. don’t imagine Tommy channeling his sadness into anger bc that’s all he knows how to do. fucking crushing the can in his hand bc he’s fed up and doesn’t know how to express this oppressive sorrow in his gut.

okay, maybe you can imagine Tommy going up to Steve the next day, asking about the party. how he thought it went, how he liked it, if he saw Cam getting plastered from all those drinks he was feeding her. maybe you can imagine Tommy giggling that goofy little giggle he gives, all teeth and crinkled eyes and smushed up freckles.

but don’t think about steve responding hazily. don’t think about Tommy’s face falling into something disappointed. something sad that switches to borderline angry. something that’s suddenly mad. don’t think about Tommy’s face hardening over, about his angry little fists being shoved forcefully into his pockets as he concedes that Steve probably didn’t see bc he was with that girl. whatever her name was. Tommy never caught it. probably didn’t even invite her. definitely won’t from now on. don’t imagine Tommy talking about her to a laughing and smirking Steve who doesn’t get the hint. who never gets the hint. don’t imagine Tommy thinking about it way too hard. thinking about that girl and how she seemed like she was having fun keeping up with Steve… drink for drink… just like Tommy used to do with him. just like they used to fucking do.

don’t think about Steve never getting the hint.

i guess you can think about another party, not Tommy’s this time. another party where Steve is wandering around and touching shoulders and the smalls of backs and haphazardly grabbing gently at hips bc he’s drunk and he’s popular and people let him. i guess we can all imagine Tommy watching semi-fondly bc while he hates that he never gets those, he loves Steve’s confidence. his cocky fucking confidence. he loves to see that smirk grace his lips. loves to watch him swagger around like the world is fucking his to play with.

maybe imagine Tommy getting excited bc Steve is coming his way. aiming right for him, looking at him with those lazily confident eyes that hold the fucking sun in them they’re so on fire. maybe you can imagine Tommy’s heart beating wildly, Tommy’s fingers fidgeting slightly, Tommy downing his drink, Tommy high out of his mind.

don’t imagine Steve coming over just for a girl. some other fucking girl. Tommy doesn’t know her either- maybe he does, maybe his rage is preventing any recognition from occurring, but he doesn’t think he knows her. thinks he’d remember someone like that.

thinks he’d remember Steve- his Steve -looking at someone like that.

and then they’re laughing. don’t think about it but Steve and her are laughing, brightly and loudly and no one else seems to be paying any mind… and definitely don’t think about it but Tommy minds… Tommy definitely minds. don’t think about Tommy watching that with his heart sinking in his chest - deep in his chest. because Tommy sees that and wants to run away. don’t think about Tommy hearing that and clenching his fists, reaching for another can, almost crushing it in his grasp, taking a long swig with vengeance, fucking angry. he can’t get away from it… don’t think about Tommy sitting there, listening to Steve’s laugh, hearing every bit and piece of it and not seeing him w/ that girl but rather seeing them as kids. Tommy is hearing Steve’s laugh, that same fucking laugh he’s had for years, and seeing himself sitting next to him, Steve’s arm wrapped around his shoulder and Tommy’s own wrapped around his middle, laughing themselves breathless as Brandon made a fool of himself at that one sleepover. Laughing themselves breathless as they watched their favorite movie together. Laughing themselves absolutely nutty reading that stupid comic Tommy was finally able to buy for himself w/ his own allowance. Laughing themselves free. Don’t think about Tommy watching Steve get a little too handsy and getting antsy over it because… because fuck that should be him. Please, please don’t think about the bile that fills up Tommy’s system when he realizes what he was just thinking.

And don’t think about him leaving either. don’t think about Tommy walking by, making eye contact w/ Steve, slowing down, waiting only to get the most slurred “hello” out of Steve before the boy is giggling again with that girl, hands once again digging into her side and causing her to laugh into his neck and Tommy’s gone, his high feeling sour now. tommy’s heading home.

Maybe you can think about Tommy asking Steve if he wants to hang out the next day after school. in fact, please think about them hanging out in an open field, drinking beers, letting the sun be soft on their skin. please think about Tommy finding comfort in it, and Steve showing he feels comfort in it too. think about them being happy with each other. maybe you can even think about Tommy asking Steve how he felt last night. but don’t think about the poison filling his chest when Tommy apologizes for leaving so early… citing he was just too high. don’t think about Steve saying he didn’t even notice. don’t think about Tommy crinkling and crushing the can in his hand again, seeing that girl again in his mind, but trying to keep the small talk up. maybe you can think about Tommy talking about how Leslie saw Nat on his way home, puking on the side of the road. maybe you can think about him chuckling a little at that. but don’t imagine the tension in the air between them now. the awkward, strained silence. Steve telling Tommy he has somewhere to be so he needs to leave. don’t imagine the hurt it puts in Tommy’s heart.

and at this point, maybe we shouldn’t imagine another party. in fact, please don’t. please don’t imagine another one of Tommy’s parties, where Tommy talks with Steve a bit, even though he vowed he wouldn’t bc god fucking damnit Tommy can’t help it. he’s his friend and something about Steve will always grant Tommy comfort in the form of flutters. be it kind or bitter, it flutters just the same.

maybe you can think about Tommy there with Carol, bc she’s his now. think about Tommy being actually genuinely happy to have Carol, bc Carol makes him laugh and kisses his forehead sometimes and lets him do the same sometimes without getting too irritated and has sex with him. think about Tommy finding a gratefulness in Carol, enjoying playing with her soft hair. don’t think about him wishing the color of her hair was a little different… a little shorter…

maybe you can think about Tommy with Carol, swaying a bit to the beat as they dance, Carol whispering something softly and huskily to Tommy but Tommy looking away at something else. Maybe you can imagine Carol taking his chin in her soft hand and turning his face towards hers. but… no, don’t imagine him still not paying attention, still flicking his eyes over to the right. don’t imagine Carol noticing and looking that way too.

getting a little shocked at seeing it’s Steve her boyfriend is looking at.

and maybe it’s supposed to be a kind gesture, maybe she’s doing it bc she’s nothing if not a “generous girlfriend” (her words), but don’t think about Carol leaving Tommy to go over to Steve and whisper something in his ear. don’t think about Steve leaning down to hear and looking up to lock confused eyes with Tommy. don’t think about the second of lust Tommy sees there that sets a hopeful fire in Tommy’s chest and makes him down his drink, fingers fidgeting.

and i just… be careful about it, but maybe think about a few minutes later, when Carol is bouncing her way over to Tommy’s bedroom with Tommy and Steve in tow. be so careful about thinking about Steve’s hands, reaching out and fumbling but still groping with impressive skill at Tommy’s ass and hip bone and little tummy and then downwards. you can think about the falsely coy look Carol gives as she opens the door and flounces inside, taking her shirt off. but that doesn’t matter because… be careful thinking about it, but Steve is pulling Tommy in tight with his right arm wrapped around Tommy’s body, gripping and fondling his hipbone, making Tommy gasp as his fingers slide under the waist of his jeans and underwear to touch his skin. please be very careful thinking about Steve guiding Tommy through the doorway like it’s not Tommy’s own room- a place he obviously knows intimately. A place he knows Steve has become very unfamiliar with. and just… just don’t think about Steve putting his lips up close to Tommy’s ear, breathing unevenly, less than gracefully, moving his mouth down tommy’s jawline as he closes the door behind him and whispers into Tommy’s skin something that really sounds like: “I’ve never done… much like this… before….”

and… and…. and….

please be careful about it… but maybe think about Tommy waking up in the morning, body spent and throbbing and aching and mind racing because everything from the night before is so blurry. maybe just don’t think about it. don’t think about Tommy seeing and feeling it come back to him in waves, waves of pleasure and satisfaction and ribbons of guilt mixed in because… because… because Steve wouldn’t kiss him. as they moved around Tommy’s bed, Carol writhing and mewling between them, Carol on her front, unable to see them, Carol distracted by pleasure, and Tommy… Tommy tried to give a kiss, two, three… Tommy tried to steal them from steve. Tommy felt desperate for them, but please don’t think about him remembering that. don’t imagine Tommy, laying in bed, Carol curled up next to him, just… just picturing himself from the night before yearning and craving and practically begging in every wordless way for Steve to give him something he refused to let him have. for Steve to fucking kiss him. for Steve to touch him with more than just careful groping hands. please… please don’t think about the shame that fills Tommy’s chest at it… the pressing, smothering, choking shame that makes Tommy sob dryly for a second and causes Carol to stir.

and it’s just…. it’s not safe anymore. so please don’t imagine it. don’t imagine Tommy sliding out of bed to grab Carol a glass of water and maybe some breakfast because he’s actually a fucking gentleman and doesn’t fucking run out after sex, and as he places his feet down, he lands on shoes and sees… sees a pair of shoes he’s never seen next to his in this context before. sees Steve’s shoes next to his on the ground, next to his bed. don’t don’t don’t think about the pang of hurt that shoots through Tommy at seeing them. at the fleeting chance of it all being some vividly painful wet dream that’s now vanished bc Steve’s shoes just made it all real.

don’t imagine Tommy padding his way out to his living room, seeing the mess left behind from the party and hearing someone else padding around as well shuffling through things, mumbling darkly. don’t imagine the way Tommy’s chest fucking constricts at the sight of Steve, clearly hurrying himself around Tommy’s living room, looking for something desperately. don’t think about the bile returning to Tommy’s chest… the poisonous bile that consumes him.

and it hurts… it’s probably gonna hurt, but maybe you can think about Tommy getting spiteful. getting angry. leaning against a wall, watching Steve near panic, and asking: “Hey bud, how’d it go last night?”

maybe you can think about the sick sort of pleasure he gets when Steve jumps out of his skin. when Steve’s saucer-like eyes turn to Tommy and blink hurriedly. why don’t you take a page out of Tommy’s book and try not to think too hard about the way that Steve stutters a lame response of “Uhm… it was- uh…”

be very careful, but maybe think about the conversation going something like this:

Tommy: “You looking for something?”

Steve: “Uh… just my shoes.”

Tommy: “Mmhm. They’re in my bedroom, next to mine.”

Steve: “Oh.” (be careful thinking about the nervous chuckle he gives)

Tommy: “Uh huh. Kinda weird waking up to see them sitting there. Never seen that before.”

Steve: “Yeah, pretty wild.” (be very careful imagining the glint in Steve’s eye as he gets a bit more confident with the situation. Be even more careful thinking about the way it hurts Tommy’s heart and the tense silence that follows the statement.)

Tommy: “Yeah… wild.”

Steve: “Think this is what everyone means when they talk about growing up?” (careful… don’t imagine Steve sauntering up to Tommy, hints of that heated look that flash away as quickly as they came.)

Tommy: “Doubt it. Y’know… what I was thinking about the other day?” (don’t think about Tommy’s heart racing so fast it feels like it’s going to fail) “I was thinking about how we used to go out and blaze… late as fuck at night. Remember that?”

Steve: “Yeah!” (don’t do it. don’t imagine Steve’s bright laugh, his eyes crinkling, his large and warm hand patting Tommy’s shoulder and making Tommy want to crumble) “Not like that anymore, huh?”

please don’t imagine it. Tommy standing there, shaking, joints weak and brittle as Steve pushes past him to grab his shoes. don’t imagine Tommy standing there still, still as a statue yet shaking, unable to move as Steve sneaks into Tommy’s room, grabs his shoes, and sneaks back out, pushes past Tommy with a “See ya later, bud. It was fun. Tell Carol thanks.”

don’t. don’t imagine Tommy standing there, not breathing, eyes going blurry from staring unseeingly at the ground as he hears his front door open and then latch again. don’t think about him shaking with the memory of Steve’s hand in the waistband of his underwear… the memory of want flooding through him.

and please please please don’t imagine the jealousy in Tommy’s eyes… in his heart and chest and fucking fingers and toes but more importantly his eyes as he watches… watches Steve go fucking soft for Nancy fucking Wheeler.

don’t. don’t imagine Tommy with fire in his heart and rage in his head as Nancy pushes Steve away coyly in a way that only makes Steve draw her in even more. don’t imagine Tommy watching his friend drift away from him even more. Don’t imagine Tommy see every sliver of his friend fade away with this prissy fucking girl that he hates with his soul because she’s taking him. she’s stealing him right from underneath him and…. and… and forcing Tommy to think about how Steve was never his. not really. maybe not even when they were kids and their worlds belonged to each other and no one else. before girls and cliques and sloppy and inexperienced first kisses at parties. before everything before all the distractions… even fucking then Steve never belonged to Tommy. not in the way he was always hungry for. ravenous.

don’t imagine Tommy hearing the voice of a 10 year old Steve promising he would never put a girl before his best friend as Tommy watches Steve kiss Nancy in the parking lot, pushed up against his fancy car.

please don’t think about the fist-fight over Steve leaving them for Nancy. please don’t think about their falling out. please don’t think about Tommy with rage in his heart, pushing Carol away until she forces him back to his fucking senses because “what’s wrong with you Tommy? You’re being a dickhead!”

you can start to think about Tommy becoming friends with Billy, but be careful about it. because it comes with poison laced in it. because you may get the idea to think about the fact that it wasn’t out of kindness or genuine interest but rather out of spite. on Tommy’s end. you may get the idea to think about how Tommy did it just out of a want to dethrone Steve. you may think about the parties after Billy arrives, that include a heavily drunken Tommy following Billy like a puppy because suddenly Billy’s the support Tommy never knew he needed. and it’s not sweet, it’s not kind, it’s not understanding like Steve used to be. no. no, you may want to think that but trust me, you’re going to think about how it’s harsh and cold and empty. all closed fists. it’s ravenous like Tommy felt ravenous, but maliciously so. because Billy is tortured in a way that Steve isn’t. Billy comes with baggage Tommy isn’t strong enough to carry. Billy comes with pain and he dishes it like he takes it. he doesn’t hit Tommy but he isn’t kind. he doesn’t come with the same, charming, easy smiles Steve does and Tommy’s always thinking about it, late at night, when he lays in bed and wants… but don’t imagine that.

be careful about imagining Tommy finding comfort in Billy anyway… because… because he feels like he’s getting back at Steve and that’s all he wants now.

and… and please….

please be careful about imagining Tommy ditching 3rd period one day to go walk around the yard to get some air. be careful thinking about him heading to the bleachers on the far side of the football field to smoke under them. be very very careful.

because you might get caught up thinking about what Tommy finds. which happens to be Billy fucking Hargrove on his knees in front of Steve fucking Harrington… his Steve that was never really his… sucking Steve’s dick like he likes it and Tommy thinks he does and… and Steve is coming apart, coming undone, sobbing small cries into the chilled out air of the early spring as he… as he…

fuck.

don’t don’t don’t. don’t think about Tommy watching that with a fallen heart. or about Tommy’s heart lifting with some kind of perverse hope that maybe… maybe Steve just grew some balls and this is something they’re doing out of anger. this is the result of some weird, perverted fight. this isn’t anything with feelings… this isn’t anything to do with care.

and please stop. stop before you think about Tommy seeing Steve pull Billy up with force before kissing him. harshly but… but with care in his brows, passion in his hands as he spreads them across Billy’s back and up to cradle his neck, as Billy follows suit with his own large, calloused hands reaching up to tug at Steve’s hair. don’t think about the whine Tommy hears.

and don’t think about the slam of Tommy’s hand on the bleacher bench next to him- out of anger out of rage out of utter devastation at the sight because… because… because fuck. fuck! He… he doesn’t get anything he doesn’t get any kind of solace he’s lost… he’s lost it all and this is the end of it. the tail end of it. the last thread being pulled out and now he’s undone and rushing away in a storm of himself.

don’t think about him hearing a distant: “Shit! Goddamnit-”

followed by a: “Billy, wait! Let me get him.”

don’t think about the sound of footsteps rushing after him, don’t think about the calling out of “Tommy!”, don’t think about Tommy’s wild heart and wild eyes and tears, and please don’t think about Tommy feeling a hand on his shoulder.

Don’t think about Steve, voice near desperate with his: “Tommy! You’re… not gonna tell anyone, are you?”

Don’t think about Tommy fuming, body hot with anger as he says: “Just watch me.” as if he thought for a second to tell anyone. as if he would ever do that to Steve.

and don’t don’t don’t. stop it now before you think about Steve grabbing Tommy’s shoulder and shoving, straight into the brick wall of the gym building, pinning him there cleanly, pointing an authoritative finger in his face as he growls at him.

“You’re not gonna tell anyone.” Steve says it like it’s a command, an order… but don’t think about that.

Don’t think about Tommy’s heart running away with everything. every emotion and feeling and fear of anger and betrayal and want and desire and shame and fear and-

“Oh yeah? Why not?” Tommy spits the words angrily into Steve’s face, but don’t imagine it.

don’t imagine Steve searching Tommy’s face for the answer. don’t imagine the tension that’s there between them again. don’t think about how it’s different now and Tommy can feel it and Tommy knows Steve can feel it too. Don’t think about Steve’s finger lowering, his face relaxing into something less angry and something more like that pout he gives. you know the one. the one where his eyebrows furrow and his lips pout and he’s obviously thinking a little too hard about something.

don’t think about what he says.

because what he says is: “Because you love me too much.”

i’m begging you not to think about that. because if you think about that, you’re going to start thinking about the way it punches Tommy in the gut… the way it hurts Tommy more than any physical pain ever could. the way it stabs him and drains him of every bit of energy. the way it hurts.

the way that pain shows in his eyes and on his face, and the way Steve latches onto that like a fucking predator. be so careful or else you’re going to think about Steve chuckling darkly, like the cat that caught the canary. the look he gives that’s nothing short of wicked. truly wicked. mirroring something Tommy’s only seen in Billy. don’t think about how much that in particular hurts Tommy even more.

“Holy shit… I’m right, aren’t I?” Steve says like it’s something disgusting but please don’t think about that.

don’t think about Tommy chewing his lip in a nervous habit because he just can’t help it. his eyes shifting back to the bleachers where Billy is standing, arm leaning up against them, hip jutting out, standing like he owns the world. don’t think about Steve’s hand gripping Tommy’s shoulder harder to bring him back. get him looking into his eyes again.

“I’m right.” Steve says with a chuckle that’s sinister but it’s best not to imagine it.

“What?” Tommy’s mad but it’s best not to imagine that either.

“I’m fucking right. You love me. I mean… I thought as much but… wow.”

don’t imagine Tommy shaking again. shaking from all of the pressure building up inside of him. shaking like he’s a goddamn overblowing kettle.

“You’re not gonna say anything.” Steve says, and best not to imagine it coming out like the dickish season 1 Steve Harrington he’s acting like right now. “You won’t say anything. I don’t even have to threaten you. You love me too much to say anything.”

don’t think about Tommy shaking. about him spitting out “Fuck you.”

don’t. be careful now, don’t think about Steve rolling his eyes, taking his hand off of Tommy’s shoulder to place it on his own hip and say in that cocky voice: “Yeah yeah, you wish.”

don’t think about Tommy seeing red. stumbling away from the wall, glaring, hissing: “You’re an asshole, Steve Harrington.”

don’t imagine Steve licking his teeth and calling out in his cocky-confident voice, heat in his eyes that isn’t nearly as lustful as it is spiteful as he says: “Yeah, well, you are what you eat, huh?”

don’t think about those words hitting Tommy hard. please… please be kind to yourself. don’t think about Tommy stumbling to the gym to shower off everything. to shower off how gross he feels. or about Tommy in his room, thinking about those words for days… for weeks. or about the shame he feels as he jacks off and pictures Billy on his knees for Steve, or Steve with his tongue in Billy’s ass like he insinuated… don’t think about him doing that for weeks, not being able to get off w/o his mind going there. don’t think about the few nights that just the actions of getting off to that makes him cry… cry himself to sleep.

don’t. don’t imagine Tommy in a whirlwind of fear and anger and sadness, ignoring everything, ignoring Carol, ignoring responsibilities, ignoring class. don’t think about him desperately grasping for any kind of relief from himself and his thoughts in the form of bottles or cigarettes or weed or threesomes w/ Carol and random girls in their grade. don’t think about him trying to drown himself in porn focused on women, trying desperately to get the idea of men out of his mind. don’t think about him flailing drastically and dramatically don’t think about the fear he lives in don’t think about the grief just… just don’t.

and please. please don’t think about when he sees Steve again. with Billy again, kissing up against the back of the gym, so into each other it makes Tommy nauseous.

don’t think about Tommy filling with fire. don’t think about how Steve gives him a look that looks like pity. don’t think about how it feels shameful to Tommy when it’s aimed his way. don’t think about how Tommy is the one that internalizes that shame for himself. don’t think about Steve calling after him, reaching out, asking “Tommy? You okay? Come… c’mon, bud, talk to me-”

and maybe you should stop now, or else you’re gonna think about Tommy snapping. full on snapping. whipping around to shove Steve’s hand down and scream: “Shut up!”

because once you think about that you’re gonna think about the worry in Steve’s eyes that make Tommy want to scream. make him fully aware of the comfort he used to find in that expression that now makes him want to scream and… and rip his hair out, make him want to punch someone because: “I’m not your friend! How does that feel, huh, Harrington? How does that fucking feel? And get this straight, I said I’m not your friend, not the other way around. I’m the one taking away my friendship this time, huh? Huh, King Steve? How does it fucking feel? You don’t get to be my friend anymore! So stop fucking faking it, you goddamn piece of shit! I’m sick of it and I… I hate you! I hate you so much I swear I could… I could… I could kill you I hate you so much!”

and don’t don’t don’t, don’t think about Tommy’s heart racing, don’t think about his breath getting short, don’t think about his freckled face red with anger and shame as he turns around and don’t think about his heart skipping a beat or two when his wrist is grabbed.

don’t think about Steve mumbling: “Tommy…”

don’t think about Tommy pulling his hand away with a “Get the fuck away from me.”

don’t think about Steve reaching out again, grabbing again.

don’t think about Tommy ripping his wrist away harder, with a “Get away.”

don’t think about Steve reaching out to hold onto Tommy’s shoulder now with a mumbled: “Bud, c’mon-”

don’t think about Tommy throwing Steve’s hand down before rounding on him with a sound punch that makes Steve take a step back.

and please… don’t. because if you think about that you’re going to think about Billy, who’s been standing back quietly, jumping into action and stepping up heavily and moving like a storm of thunder and lightning and anger and pushing Steve back out of the way and glaring daggers and bullets and pulling his arm back quickly and pushing it back forward even quicker, cutting through the air and landing squarely on Tommy’s jaw with a sound like a crack.

you’re gonna think about Tommy staggering. you’re gonna think about the air going still. you’re gonna think about Tommy’s ears ringing. you’re gonna think about the way it stings. you’re gonna think about Tommy looking up from his hand that’s now covered in the blood from his mouth to see Steve place a ginger hand on Billy’s shoulder and try to pull him back. you’re gonna think about Steve mumbling: “Billy, wait-”

if you think about all that, you’re gonna think about Billy’s eyes, fiercely protective and fiercely loyal, glaring heavily into Tommy’s own as he growls: “You touch Steve again, and you die. Got that Hagan?”

if you think about all that, you’re gonna think about the pain in Tommy’s chest. You’re gonna think about how his heart runs cold. you’re gonna think about how his world goes gray. you’re gonna think about his head throbbing before he closes himself off to the world. you’re gonna think about that last look he gives to Steve… that last time he sees Steve… which is a look of pity and sorrow on his face, pooling in his eyes, looking at his childhood friend that Tommy wonders if he even recognizes anymore now that he’s bloody and spiteful and shamed.

if you think about all that you’re gonna think about Tommy walking away that day with something gray and shattered in his chest.

don’t think too hard, bc if you do you’re gonna find yourself thinking about the checklist going through Tommy’s mind, that says that Steve was the first and last happy thing for him in Hawkins and now his best friend for life is gone and has taken his new friend with him and… and he still loves Steve but he lost Steve and hates Steve and every inch of Hawkins is stained with memories of Steve and the only way to escape Steve is to… is to escape Hawkins.

so don’t think about it too hard, bc if you do, you’re gonna think about Tommy packing his things and getting in his car and getting away. and he takes a pit stop by Carol’s house and maybe it’s a sudden lapse of judgement bc even Carol is stained with the color of Steve but it’s fine bc when Tommy pulls up to her house, saying “either you get in this car right now or you never see me again” she calls him crazy and insists he’ll be at school tomorrow bc “This is insane Tommy and… and you’re not insane.”

and it’s probably gonna hurt you like it hurts Tommy, so don’t think about Tommy driving away, into the night… driving until he can’t think of anything to do with Hawkins- not his deadbeat dad or Billy or Carol or even Steve. until he’s in a Motel 6 with no family and no friends and no high school degree and just the faintest, smallest, weakest thought of Steve.

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snarkwriteswrasslin · 5 years ago

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FFT: all the guys want cheerleaders; jon moxley

Notes:

So... I think that arguably, my favorite universe/pairing to write is Jon Moxley and my OC Jane. Apparently so because I have like 5+ universes just for them and counting. I’m seriously tempted to definitely sit down and like... plan out an actual fic bc this is getting outrageous lmao. Anyway, here’s another thing. This is a teenage!jon and jane. So this is one of those inflexible / non changeable parts, btw.

{ wanna send in one of these? here’s how | masterlist of fake fic titles }

Summary:

Jon decides to surprise Jane by coming home just to take her to some stupid dance. And surprise her, he does. Fluffy af. I mean.. In Mox’s typical way of being fluffy.

Pairing:

Jon Moxley x OFC, Jane

Warnings:

Uhhh... fluffy surprises.

“Everything looks like shit on me. That’s it, I’m not going to this fucking dance.” Jane threw down the fourth dress and stared at herself in the mirror, shaking her head. She was only even going to this stupid thing because her grandmother was making a big deal about her going.

It wasn’t like she wanted to go. The guy she’d rather go to prom with was gone, he left town to go off and become some kind of famous wrestler or something. His own words.

As if on cue, the phone rang and Jane grabbed for it. Mox promised he’d call her the second he got where he was going. “Well, dickhead?”

“Hey to you too, Janey.” blue eyes darted around the bar and when the guys got too loud, Mox gave them all a silencing glare. It only got him teased by Callihan and Cole, but Mox ignored the two jackasses and turned away, busying himself by doodling on a napkin. “Ya find a dress?”

“I’m not goin to that stupid prom.”

“Janey, c’mon. Ya promised ya grandma.”

“I know, I know.. I just.. I don’t wanna. Besides, I look like shit in all the dresses she picked up for me to try. Besides, I asked that dumbass in my Bio class if he’d take me as a friend. Turns out he’s already goin with someone. Or I’m ugly as fuck and he’s just too polite to point it out. Or he’s lyin and…” Janey trailed off, rolling onto her back on the bed and Mox sighed on the other end of the line.

“First of all, ya not ugly. Second, ya don’t have t’ go with somebody to go.” Mox calmly pointed out. He grabbed the beer Callihan bought over to him and took a long sip, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth as he finished. “Ya grandma just wants ya to have a good time. She’s tryin to cheer you up.”

… just tell her already, damn…

He was hell bent on not ruining the surprise though. He knew how much Jane really wanted to go to prom and thanks to peeking in her journal when he stopped by to see her before he left town, he knew exactly why she was digging her heels in about going.

Apparently, she only wanted to go with him. But she’d never admit it, she’d never admit a lot of things she wrote about him in her journal and those things… They were another huge reason he was out of Ohio and trying to make a name for himself. He wanted to be the best he could be, for her. He wanted to be able to give her everything he thought she deserved, despite knowing that she’d be fine with just being with him.

He wanted to give her so much more.

Jane eyed the phone and bit her lip. “ I don’t wanna go, okay? Why’s it so important I go, huh? It’s gonna be lame.”

“If you don’t go, ya gonna look back and regret it.”

“Or maybe I won’t, Mox.”

Mox took a deep breath, trying to keep from telling her exactly why he wanted her to go so badly. If she didn’t go, then he couldn’t show up in the stupid damned tuxedo. He couldn’t give her the necklace he’d bought for her.

… but if she doesn’t wanna go, maybe you could surprise her at home… take her out somewhere real nice… ya gonna have plenty of money, man… and the thought had him taking a deep breath.

“Maybe ya won’t. If ya don’t wanna go, don’t. I gotta ask ya somethin, okay?”

Jane raised a brow and rolled over onto her stomach, propping on her elbow. She tried to picture him, all sweaty and probably bloody, probably fresh from a fight.. She found herself wondering if he was wearing the sleeveless vest, or if he’d just fought in jeans tonight. She found herself wishing that she wasn’t stuck in stupid Ohio, doing what she promised him she’d do. She didn’t get why it was so important she stayed, she could’ve easily finished high school wherever he wound up. It would’ve been their big adventure, just like they always talked about. She could’ve gotten by on her photography and worked as a waitress too.

She just missed him.

She hadn’t seen him in over a month and she was afraid it was going to be like her parents all over again.. One day, she’d try to call their face to memory and realize she couldn’t anymore. The thought had her eyes stinging with tears and she wiped at her eyes, scowling about it.

She just didn’t want to forget him or lose him too and now that he was gone, despite him diligently keeping in touch, she was so afraid that very thing was going to happen.

“Ya there, Janey?”

“Yeah. I was just thinkin.. Ask away.” Jane sat up and took a deep breath or two. This happened, it was a fact of life. Sooner or later, she reminded herself, even the best of friends drifted away from each other. It sucked and it was sad, but it was true.

And she was most likely going to lose him before she ever got to tell him just how special he was to her and how much she loved him, faults and all.

“Ya trust me?”

“That’s a stupid fucking question, Mox. You know I trust you. Probably one hell of a lot more than I trust anyone else.” Jane answered quickly, wondering what made him ask that.

“I need ya to go to our place. Saturday.”

“But you were saying a minute ago you wanted me to go to the stupid fucking prom too.. What do you want me to do, Mox…” Jane trailed off and he chuckled. “You said ya didn’t wanna go to prom. So, I thought maybe if ya went somewhere you were comfortable instead, might make ya feel better.”

… it’s only gonna remind me you’re not here, but okay.. Jane almost said it aloud, but she didn’t dare. Instead, she agreed to go to their spot on Saturday night at 6. And given that her grandma had already given her a ‘free pass’ for the night, Jane decided that maybe she could just get ready like she planned to go to prom, go to their little spot down by the docks and change somewhere in a bathroom. Why Mox wanted her to go, she had no idea, but it certainly seemed urgent.

( SATURDAY NIGHT )

“Okay, grandma. I’m heading out.”

“Wait, I want to get a picture of you, sweetie.”

Jane tapped her foot against the floor but she smiled, nodded and let her grandmother get a picture of her. She felt guilty for not just telling the woman she wasn’t going to prom, but she was going to wander around the docks, she knew it wouldn’t matter but her grandma would worry the entire time, but she also knew that she might disappoint the older woman.

That was the last thing Jane wanted to ever do was to disappoint her grandma.

After her grandma got another picture or two and hugged her, Jane set out, walking quickly, cursing the stupid heels and the wind and the fact that the stupid dress didn’t have any sleeves at all and herself for not bringing a jacket.

She hadn’t even been able to grab a change of clothing, her grandmother had wanted to hover close, to reminisce about her own prom and how her grandpa saved her from the unwanted advances of some “uppity jock guy” that night. And Jane, well.. She’d had fun listening to the woman’s stories, and letting her grandma do something. They’d been talking and her grandmother admitted that it wasn’t so much wanting her to go to prom, but wanting her not to stop living just because that “sweet boy two doors down” was gone. Her grandmother had apparently been worried about her as of late, because she hadn’t been as bright or as happy as she had been before Mox left.

Jane stopped to lean against a factory and leaned down, taking off the stupid heels, glaring at them as she rubbed her foot.

It was almost 8 now and she was within sight of the docks.

Someone was standing there, their back facing her.

In a suit.

They weren’t so much standing there still as they were pacing a little. Jane almost just turned and left whoever it was to their pacing, but then, the pacing man turned to face her and when she saw him, she didn’t think or bother censoring herself, she just started to run right for him, flinging herself at him as soon as she reached him. Mox wrapped his arms around her, easily lifting her off her bare feet, breathing in the scent of her shampoo because God knew he’d missed it the entire time he’d been away.

“Mox? Is this why you kept tryin to make me go to prom?”

All Mox could do was shrug and stare at her. “Fuck..”

“What’s wrong?” Jane cocked her head to the side, looking up at her friend. Mox blurted it out before he could stop himself.

“Always thought ya were beautiful but goddamn..” he mumbled quietly, rubbing the back of his head as he stared down at her.

Jane almost laughed, thinking he was just kidding her, but the look in his eyes stopped her in her tracks. He dug around in the pockets of the stupid suit, swearing, almost panicking when he thought he might have left the box with the necklace inside on the bus he’d gotten off of earlier, but finally, he found it and pulled it out.

“I got ya somethin.”

“Jon…”

“Shh.. There’s somethin I been wanting to say. If I don’t say it now, I won’t.” Mox was doing it again, the pacing and mumbling thing he tended to do when angry or nervous. Jane reached out, stepping in front of him and stopping him where he stood. “Say it then, Mox. You know you can tell me anything.”

“I love ya. I love ya so goddamn much and goin away, it wasn’t cos I wanted t’ leave ya, ya gotta know that. It was cos one day, I wanted to… I bought ya this. I saw it and I remembered how upset ya were when ya lost the one like it ya mom gave ya.” he held out the box and Jane opened it, staring at the rose gold heart shaped locket that was almost identical to the one her mom always wore when she was alive. She wiped at her eyes and for a second, his face fell.

Why was she about to cry?

“I fucked up.”

“No, no. No. This is.. It’s perfect and it’s beautiful and I..”

Words were failing her at the moment, so she rose to tiptoe, tugging at the tie that he hadn’t even tied right, pulling his mouth down to her own, pulling him into as deep a kiss as she could. Mox deepened it even more, gripping at her lower back, holding her up as best as he could.

“Ya what?”

“I love you too. I always have.”

“I was gonna take ya to that one real fancy restaurant.. If ya hungry?” Mox broke the kiss to ask and Jane gave a soft laugh, nodding.

#jon moxley fanfiction #jon moxley fanfic #jon moxley fic #jon moxley oneshot #jon moxley imagine #// this is another part of Jon and Jane's universe - it's from when they were teenagers so that doesn't change tbh #// i have a world building problem ahem... addiction

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lovexdejun · 7 years ago

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🖤NCT Boyfriend Series🖤

- [🌅]Kun

>>no warnings; just super long because i really liked this scenario >>also, kun with kids is a whole concept

•a responsible one •we’re gonna pretend like kun has a lot of family in this even tho he’s an only child bc it works with the storyline and i can see kun being a huge family man •he’s your best friends older brother (let’s make it by like 3 years), so of course you’ve known him all your life •to your mortification, he’d witnessed you go through all your awkward phases •especially the one when you were 13 and had a massive crush on him •it was at his youngest sister’s birthday party that you realized you never truly grew out of it like you thought •he had been living quite a ways away for college, so you lost touch for a couple years due to conflicting schedules •you were so unprepared when he busted through the front door with a “surprise!” •when he wasn’t being bombarded with questions by his family, he was practically interrogating you •”when did you end up leaving the emo thing behind?” •”you gotten accepted to any colleges yet?” •”are you still seeing that douche bag from st. charles?” •during the party, you’ll watch each other play with all the little ones •the way he picks up the little girl who tripped and wipes her tears away just makes you mELT •and kun seeing you hold his cousin’s baby would make him want to see you with HIS baby •the whole family ships you guys already •bc he’s been attached to your hip ever since the party started and the they can’t help noticing the way he looks at you •the next few weeks after that are full of him subtly hitting on you •so subtly that you don’t notice •and you’re best friend has shipped it since middle school so she’s actually dying •you get frustrated when he gets jealous because you don’t realize it IS jealousy •one day you come into the kitchen while he’s cooking and for some reason he’s being really short with you •so you, finally fed up, confront him about it •which turns into a full blown argument until you accidentally slam your hand onto a hot burner •he doesn’t think he’s ever heard such a high pitch sounding his life •immediately flies into parent mode •while your sitting there with tears running down your face, he’s wiping them away and wrapping up your hand simultaneously •”yah, i said it was hot when you came in” •which just makes you cry more so he begins to coo over you like an actual mom •once you’ve finally calmed down, you guys are just staring at each other for a minute •then he’s kissing you •and that’s how you ended up dating your best friend’s brother •he cares about you sO MUCH •an actual father •like, being with this man would give you a serious case of baby fever •he keeps you grounded while your head’s in the clouds •you keep him on his toes •you have to yell at him sometimes for subconsciously treating you like a child •but in his defense, you have the tendency to act like one •he would rather study that cuddle •but when he would rather cuddle, you weren’t going anywhere any time soon •you’d have to seduce him to get him in bed if you’re in the mood •if he’s in the mood •again, you won’t be going anywhere any time soon •a reoccurring event of you giving him head out of the blue while he’s studying or trying to do something productive •he would cook for you •you’d steal his clothes all the time •you’d be his solace when he’s stressed •when you’re upset/angry/stressed, he’s the only one who can calm you down •loves that fact that you get so amazed by his magic tricks bc you’re an actual child •you roast him 24/7 •pathetically tries to roast you back •he’s funnier when he isn’t trying •you like when he gets jealous because then he gets clingy •he hates when you get jealous because you give him the cold shoulder •when he goes back for college you feel like you’re dying •like you used to spend every ounce of your free time stuck up his ass and now he’s just gone •so surprise him in his dorm at the most random times •you’re the first person he wants to see when he comes home •once he’s graduated, you guys move into your own house together •you’ve asked him to marry you about six times already •but he always says no •then one day, you’re sitting on the kitchen counter while he’s cooking, just showering him with compliments of being a good cook, a good bf, handsome etc… •he drops what he’s doing all of the sudden, sighs, and you think he’s gonna get mad bc you’re distracting him •but he just kinda looks at you with this weird expression •”let’s just get married already so you can annoy me like this for the rest of our lives.” •when you realize he’s serious… •you love him more than you ever thought you could love someone in your entire life •so of course it’s a yes for you •a relationship with kun would have both of you testing your limits, and you would probably get irritated with each other quite a bit, but a love like yours only comes around once in a life time •i would throw kun in with the relationship lines opposites attract, responsible, and old married couple.

>>kun isn’t just a boyfriend,, he’s a wholeass husband. he was super easy to find pics for and he just looks so natural in all of them

A/N: sorry i’m so late again!! i got called into work early😅

A/Nx2: this was probably the most fun to write so far!! i feel like i could have written a novel out of this lol love you guys and enjoy!!

nct | requests are always open!!

#nct boyfriend series #nct reactions #nct scenarios #nct u #nct dream #nct smut #nct #nct 127 #nct kun #qian kun #nct boyfriend #nct photos

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awed-frog · 7 years ago

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Hi! I realized something the other day (I'm really slow wth) My parents have the same age as Dean, lit (I know weird but wathever) and my mum is homophobic (I'm bi, sad story lol) and she watches the show with me. The thing is that I annoy her with Destiel and she gets really angry (at some point she started disliking Cas, imagine that) and she looks for back up in my aunt for example, peolple her age. But me? My friends know that I'm bi, one confessed she thought she was too 1/2

2/2 and one of my bf ships Destiel really hard too. And it made realize of just how difficult it must be for Dean to “came out of the closet” if he is bi (I’m sure he is but till it becomes canon…) I mean, it’s not easy for me, it’s not easy right now for a lot of people but I’m positive that it’s better than before. Dean and people his age had it worse I think and it opened my mind to how much he must have struggled, how possible it was that Jhon could have hit him for that, oh too long 2/3

3/3 Bc before realizing this? I was like “Jhon beating hip up for this? no way. Maybe if he caught Dean while drunk and half out of his mind, but sober and knowing exactly what he’s doing?” And i must sound really stupid sorry, bc now it happens this too but it’s just WOW poor Dean, I wanna hug him. Also Charlie is a champion, and those married hunter couple 😢 Why do people do this (Also, if you have more idea of how it used to be, could u tell me? Correct me if I’m wrong?) bye ❤

Hey there! Sorry you’re having some trouble with your mom, here’s to hoping she’ll grown more accepting with time!

(But even if she doesn’t, remember that has nothing to do with you - she can choose whether to be tolerant and kind, while you can’t choose whether to be bi or not, so the ball is in her camp.)

As for Dean - yeah, he’s more or less my age, but he moves in a background that’s vastly different from mine - I’m sure other people (maybe @bert-and-ernie-are-gay or @mittensmorgul or @thejabberwock?) could tell you what it was like to grow up in the States around that time, and how queer people were perceived. All I can tell you is that in my corner of the world, being gay was something people expected you to keep quiet about - in my school, only one kid was out, and five other had that kind of ‘we all know but they never said anything so we pretend we don’t know and maybe we’re wrong’ status, and I know life had its ups and downs for them. Some people were really antagonistic (it was mostly boy on boy banter that was the problem, and I know that the worst time for gay kids was P.E., because here everyone is expected to shower together, so a vague ‘Tom looks sorta gay, haha’ can quickly turn into a ‘Hey why is that f*ggot staring at me now I’m naked’ and then all bets are off), and most people didn’t really care one way or the other, but still - the trouble is, you grow up in a culture where you don’t really have positive representation of any kind - gay people were either men dressing up and wearing feathers in funny movies or hospital patients dying of AIDS in sad movies - even for someone like me, who grew up in a weird household and read all kind of books, it was difficult to imagine a gay person being - a normal person, you know what I mean? Someone who’d have a relationship one day, and a house and a whatever job and would fight over whose turn it was to wash the dishes. And for kids with conservative parents, things were often much harsher, as I wrote here. Plus, even in the 1990s, AIDS was a big concern for most of us, gay or straight, so that was a problem as well - the illness was no longer perceived as a ‘gay’ illness (which it never was, by the way), but the fact we were bombarded with messages about the importance of condoms and safe sex, even as kids, played a role in our general understanding of sexuality (our own and other people’s).

For me, personally, the consequence of this climate of silence and diffidence in how we approached the matter meant that I considered my crushes on girls to be ‘just a phase’, or something like ‘I want to be like her’ rather than ‘I want to be with her’; whether this prevented me from seeking out romantic connections with women, we’ll never know, but since I’m insanely happy with the relationship I have now and am deeply in love with the man who shares my life, it’s not really a problem for me. That said, yeah, it doesn’t really surprise me to see that the more openly we discuss the subject and the more we respect what we feel, the fewer people identify as straight - in the UK, 49% of young people are not straight, and to me that’s a figure that makes perfect sense. We generally fall in love with souls, not bodies, so the more open-minded we are about such things, the more our potential to form relationships with anyone broadens. And, of course, as we’re heading into an age where AI will be a thing, it’s likely our understanding of what a suitable partner is will change a lot over the next few decades.

As for Dean Winchester - as I said, I’m not an expert, but this is a guy who grew up in a very different - and often hostile - environment. Unfortunately, the US is still a country where members of the LGBT community face significant risks - risks teen!Dean would be very familiar with, since half his job as a hunter-in-training was going through the newspapers looking for cases. For instance, in 1993, when Dean was fourteen, there was the murder of Brandon Teena, and the year before, Allen Schindler was killed - since he was a soldier on duty, it’s likely John would have discussed that sooner or later, and the wider ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell’ issue. And, I don’t know - I don’t see John as homophobic, exactly, but still - he would have considered his kids’ legitimate wish to form a relationship with someone an annoyance at best (I wonder if Sam or Dean ever sulked when they had to move because they’d lose touch with a crush or a girlfriend, for instance - they must have, right?) and an irrational luxury at worst (a partner can distract you or get targeted by enemies, as John knew from experience), and as for Dean being bi - objectively, men are more dangerous than women, and there is a significant risk a predator will pretend to be gay to trap you and hurt you, so I’m thinking this is the reason John would have objected to Dean’s choices, if nothing else. Furthermore, we’ve seen how conservative the hunter community is (or used to be) - I think John would have agreed with the adults I met growing up - would have said that okay, whatever - if Dean wanted to have fun with a man, who could stop him, right, but he’d better be careful and he’d better be private about it and ‘Jesus, let’s hope the kid doesn’t like it up the ass’ because, whatever, people have been having trouble with this particular thing for the past three thousand years and that’s not likely to change any time soon. So, yeah - I think there’s a good chance Dean took a long time to even understand he was attracted to men as well, and there’s a possibility that his acceptance and understanding of himself was muddled by the fact he was abused at some point, and turned tricks later in life - personally, my headcanon is that his experimenting years happened during the Stanford era, when he was mostly alone, and since then he’s not really thought about the whole thing a whole lot - partly because he’s always with Sam (and Sam can be very judgemental), and mostly because Dean’s got zero time for any of that stuff, and a lifespan to match - we know he thinks he shouldn’t have any relationships at all, for a bunch of reasons, and that honestly breaks my heart.

Poor guy. I really, really hope he’ll get his happy ending - God knows he deserves it.

#ask #dean winchester #dean meta #kid!dean #the 90s #gay teen #lgbt issues #guys please feel free to pitch in #it's important that kids learn about history #and i'm really not qualified to answer this question

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thattaekwondoblog · 5 years ago

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My Martial Arts Story (TKD)

2020.04.26

today i miss my dojang extra... i woke up from a dream where i was supposed to spar but didnt have my dobok?? and one of my instructors handed me a.. dobok skirt?? and i was like? and he was like yeah u right this isnt gonna work sdbsmdfjsdd i dont really ever have tkd dreams (i think bc i usually am always doing tkd) but since i stopped for a bit the dreams are coming out. it made me miss sparring so much :( so below i wanted to talk about my tkd story in more detail. Enjoy!

i've actually always been a martial arts nerd, but moved around/focused on studying too much to commit to one until recently. I was talking to my mom the other day and neither of us can really remember what got me into it. I just remember wanting to be able to defend myself and be/feel strong from a very young age, and i knew martial arts was a way to do that. As a girl I also received a lot of messages that my gender was ‘weak’ and needed ‘protection’, which i really didnt like (it made me hate being a girl for some time). This is why i wanted to try martial arts. I discovered taekwondo when I was around 10 years old at a small dojang in my hometown. I loved the school & the master, who I remember always had a bamboo stick he would play around with when the kids started being rowdy (he never hit anyone, it was just his way to say ‘dont fck with me’ haha). but had to stop going after yellow belt because i was the oldest out of all the kids and i tried to go to adult classes for a while but i remember not liking it because it was ‘too slow’ for me and my mom couldnt drive me to late night classes. I was swimming a lot at the time too (fun fact i almost competed in synchronized swimming as a kid but had to stop due to illness (am totally fine now and it wasnt bad dont worry)).

I didn’t do any martial arts in middle school, and only had brief encounters when i started high school. I dabbled in kick boxing (which i still love) through an intense week long training while i was on holiday with family, and then did a bit of karate, for which sadly i had not such a great experience with the instructor which made me distance myself from the sport. The instructor brought up a heavy personal life event during class and i broke down (what did she expect i was like 15 and that event was really hard). When my mom picked me up, she shook her head to her and said ‘girls...’ in a very demeaning way, as if me crying because she re-awoke trauma was a result of ‘feminine weakness.’ i have not forgiven that person for that comment yet. she shouldn’t be a teacher if she treats students like that in my opinion. High school was very competitive and intense so i focused on studying and didnt really do sports then.

In college I really want to do more martial arts, but the lack of proper clubs or instructors made it difficult. I then went to study abroad in seoul and thought to myself if i dont try tkd again in the literal birthplace of the sport what am i doing with my life. i had good experiences with classes at uni; the two masters i had had very different personalities (one was very outspoken and funny while the other.. you could FEEL the power of tkd when he touched your arm slightly to place it correctly sdhfskdj he was very nice though). I had to stop because i was focusing on my academic projects though.

i then graduated and moved to the city, where finally there were plenty of martial arts opportunities! the first thing i did after moving to the city, even before moving into my apartment, was to visit my current dojang. i audited a class and in my head was like ’oh my god i MUST join them right now give me a dobok let’s GO’. I signed up for classes that day. The dojang master (my dad. my father, the love of my life (in the most platonic way)) was a seoulite (we bonded over that) and realized I hadn’t started my job yet so he gave me a discount, which i felt incredibly surprised by and grateful for. I started lessons the next day. at my dojang beginners usually get 3 private classes at the beginning to get the basics down before joining the group. after my first, the instructor said that i was probably ready to go with the group if i felt comfortable doing so bc i already had basics. i went every day until i moved into my apartment, when i had a mental and physical breakdown and got really sick for a week (like.. i dont remember feeling this weak and sick my entire life).

But thankfully i got better and pushed myself to go to dojang again. and it was hard. it was the summer and i hadnt used my body really in years, if ever at that level of practice. three times a week as Difficult for me, physically. i remember being frustrated that my ego wasnt satisfied haha (i thought i remembered a lot more than i did). but i loved the instructors a ton and practice was a great safe space/stress relief for the other sht that was going on my my life. I do remember that i was ready to graduate from white belt and start feeling better about my moves by the end of that summer (i was pretty frustrated that i couldnt do higher level moves, though mostly at myself).

i finally got yellow stripe and tkd things went uphill from then. i got to know ppl at my dojang better, started to go to practice more progressively. I got my yellow belt and decided then that i wanted tkd to always be in my life as much as possible. I started going to practice every day or almost every day. my tkd friendships were developing, there were small disagreements too but overall i fell more and more in love with my instructors, the dojang master (again, my dad) and the sport. we laughed so much, sweat so much, lived well.

after green stripe, my self consciousness during practice spiked a bit more than usual. this is probs bc my life outside of tkd was stressful and i was looking at my friend fellow tkd members who were higher level more. i wasnt jealous of them, far from it, i just felt small compared to what they were able to achieve and felt bad that the instructor had to stop to explain the technique to me Again. in case it wasn’t clear, i am no prodigy; i learn slowly and with long consistent practice. the two disagreements i had with my closest member friends (two separate very different reasons; we kept things civil on both sides but having to deal with that was a new experience for me so i wasnt great at it haha) didnt help my anxiety shut up during practice. i still kept at it. in january my school has an attendance challenge where you win prizes if you go every day or more than 20 days out of the month. I almost made it, but got really physically tired & kinda sick 3 days before then end of jan and had to miss one session. i was also mentally drained by life stuff so i decided to prioritize grad school applications and did less tkd in february. but that experience of going every damn day was so fun; i realized I needed to do this so much more. if there was a tkd seminar where they send you off somewhere to to tkd for like 3 months i would be down. that is when i realized my love for the sport, and the significant changes in my body that had been occurring over the past months really revealed themselves. i hear you thinking there’s no way i could fall more in love with my instructors but guess what... spending every day with them really made the love Explode dudes. In jan and fed i also really started loving sparring, even though im not great at it.

and then... march came. i got lucky to have been able to celebrate my birthday a few days before they decided to close my state down. at first i was still able to go to my dojang with smaller classes and different format of classes that respected health guidelines, but eventually everything was moved online. during that week of limited classes, i got to hang out with friend members and instructors for what would be, unbeknownst to me, one of the last times. one night after (6 feet no contact) starring, me, 2 friend members who also went very frequently and an instructor had a beer on the mats just talking and chilling. we said that we would do it again the week after. and then the state decided to shut down small businesses. i was helping the dojang transfer their classes to an online format with another student for a week (we two were the members with the highest attendance in the recent times), but then the instructors decided they should not let students come in anymore.

i was angry, i was sad, i was devastated. it was the sound solution to take and all these closings are essential and needed for public health safety, but emotionally i was not ready to let go of the dojang. i was angry at the circumstances for taking away the one thing that i truly loved and kept me going all those months of less than ideal job situation and lost of existential questions. the dojang had been my challenge, my rock, my family. i was especially angry because i had to mourn the loss of it a lot earlier than i wanted; i was already supposed to leave in june of this year. the closer june came the more teary eyed i got when i thought of leaving the dojang, but after the news i had to stop going now... i broke down. i cried so hard and loudly, alone in my room. i realize now it was the first time in my life that i cried because of love. pure, unaltered love. i thought to myself ‘how lucky is it that i felt this amount of love for something and some people’. ive moved a lot in my life but rarely felt sad when leaving a place; i often had made my goodbyes and knew it was just time to go. there were few or no things keeping me back, or i knew i would find those things somewhere else. it was also the first time i had let myself fall in love with something and people only for me. i love studying and learning for example, but when i started doing it it was mostly to make my mom and family happy, not for me. i didn’t feel like i had had a passion that i completely gave in into, a truly ‘me’ thing no one asked me or expected me to do but i just did not to have a better resume or be perceived better by society. until tkd.

now, i am still following online classes but mostly have my own training routine because it’s still hard to deal with the emotional stuff; i dont really do to live classes cause it hurts. it probably sounds strange but ive already done the emotional work of distancing myself to make the leaving less difficult. i also didnt really like the the idea of practicing in my room in front of the camera. seeing the other students on zoom would also make me feel v sad. im slowly getting out of that state of mind though and might start taking online classes again in a bit when i can’t do my regular training routine. im not sure when things will go back to normal but before i leave i will definitely send them gifts and goodbye messages, probably by mail. but yeah as of now i mostly follow my dojang’s videos, do my practice routine, and scroll through tkd tricking videos on instagram to keep motivated.

it’s kind of a sad note to end on but my tkd story does not end here. wherever im headed next I will find another dojang where i will continue to practice. i can only hope it is half as good as the family i found here. and of course now I have this blog! and will continue nerding out about kicking endlessly hahaha.

thanks for reading if you made it this far! you can ask me questions if you’d like! also tell me your tkd story!! its so cool to hear how life lead people to kicking.

#tkd #taekwondo #life story #story #martial arts #kicking #sports #tkd story #me #mind #origin story #lol #taekwondo story #martial arts story #budoblr

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