#john harrington

[nofatclips]

Tonight's The Kind Of Night by Melanie from the album Antlers

[acrylicqueen]

[the-diary-of-harrington]

Winter 1399 - day ? on the ship

I've lost track of time long time ago. I'm bored, I miss books, I get annoyed easily.

More and more I think about home. About what was taken away from me.

About her.

Even now after what she's done I cannot blame her, not all can grasp the greatness of my work.

But now everything is lost, gone with the smoke of my lab.

It still seems like a cruel joke, a man like me, the one who mocks the god was saved from fire by him.

I need to go out, even now I constantly feel smoke on my body, maybe sea will make me feel better.

[thediktatortot]

Part 1 of ? Raising Steven

"Steven-"

Milk seeped slowly across the kitchen tile as John Harrington stood there in the door way, his young son barely holding the gallon of milk still uncapped and dribbling milk across the boys fingers and to the ground. It soaked the front of his corduroy pants and up the sleeves of his sweater where he had tried to correct his hold on the jug.

He couldn't stop himself from sighing heavily at the mess that was made, running a hand through his hair at the sight.

John had places to be, people to speak too and business to conduct, he didn't have time to deal with his son's accidents or messes. He didn't have time to coddle his son and help him clean it up. Janet Harrington was supposed to be the one to come in here and handle Steven when he was particularly rowdy or messy.

But Janet Harrington was a Modern Woman, who worked and socialized and did charities while speaking on the town committee and hosted dinner parties for the local justice department. Janet Harrington was a socialite, an influencer of strong woman and doer's like the little gaggle she hosted brunches on Saturday mornings and donated time at their church on Sundays.

Janet Harrington was, in her words 'not going to raise a heathen or play house like the barefooted cows at the grocery store.'

"I'm sorry...I was thirsty."

John sighed again, looking to the side at the open fridge door where Steven had climbed to pull the milk down from the shelf, the half full glass taken from the cabinet where Steven must have climbed up to get too on the ground, milk surrounding it where he had attempted to pour the heavy jug on his own.

John sighed again, "Set the milk down and cap it." He explained as he stood in the kitchen doorway of their temporary home, the one in Loch Nora still in the last few weeks of finishing touches.

"If you think you're big enough to get your own milk then your big enough to clean up your own messes. You know where the paper towels are, you know where the trashcan is, and with half the milk on the kitchen floor the jug shouldn't be too hard for you to put back in the fridge."

Steven stood there, brown eyes wide with caution to his father's reaction, young enough to not understand everything, but old enough to understand when he'd made a mistake. Tears began to well in his eyes at John's statement, the sight usually pulling at his heart strings but as of recently, he'd been too tired with Steven's constant mood changes and accidents around the house to feel anything but irritation.

"Don't start crying Steven." John wasn't going to let his son's emotions and whims get the better of him, especially not when he was already dressed for the golf course. He knew it was futile to tell his boy to not cry, always the sensitive one, always the one who seemed to know a little too much about the world around him or feel a little too much about things he couldn't understand.

Janet had wanted a daughter and got a son, but that hadn't changed her mind on how she was going to raise a 'free thinking' and 'unfettered' child.

"But daddy-"

"Steven."

Steve went quiet, a few tears slipping over his cheeks as he set the milk jug down at his wet feet and crouched down to grab the cap that was suctioned to the floor by the milk.

"Don't make me tell you again. Your mother is having guests over tonight for dinner and I will not have you be leaving messes behind for her to clean up. She's a busy woman and many people depend on her, so do not make her day harder than it already is."

John hated snapping at his son, he really did, but he couldn't help it. Steve just didn't act how they had originally hoped. Steven wasn't even the little girl his wife had hoped to raise.

"Now- clean this mess up. The cleaner is under the sink where it always is, you've watched your mother use it, just do as she does." John moved from the doorway to the kitchen and back into the hall, taking his keys from the hook.

"If I hear that this wasn't cleaned up by the time I get back then you are in big trouble, Steven. And remember Mrs. Hallburt is across the street if there's an emergency." John spoke loud enough for it to travel to the kitchen, the sounds of sniffling and small whimpers the only thing he heard in reply before he stepped out the doorway.

---

I really wanted to start putting into words how I feel Steve's parents would be with him. I'm basing them off family I know who were similarly wealthy and very much that sort of world where Steve would come from. There's a particular style of neglect that comes with the 80s, but there's a sort of across the board neglect that comes with wealthy households that some people don't get too see.

Everything is an image, and Steve calling his dad an asshole doesn't necessarily mean his parents are hitting him or verbally abusing him in the same sort of manner as we see with Billy.

[joemerl]

Today I learned that the flush toilet was invented by Queen Elizabeth's I's godson.

[skyrigel]

me: feels unloved *searches x reader tag*

[quicksiluers]

bah being all hyped up for mark after this goal....very cute, very endearing to me!

[kurogxrix]

me when the READER in the X READER has a name:

like babe the fic ate but i do NOT look like an Aurora🙁

[asuperconfusedgirl]

how I read the most toe-curling, spine-shattering, nerve-wrecking, nastiest smut ever written in this god forsaken app

[cinnamoodles]

smut is great but do you know what’s better? heart wrenching, soul twisting angst that makes you want to cry (take my money)

[rana030]

Pov: when i catch y/n wearing something i would NEVER wear

[zvdvdlvr]

thinkin about emotionally strong reader falling apart into bf’s arms… :,)

     He knows it’s bad when you can’t bring yourself to say anything: no witty remarks to play it off, no humble shrug to show that it didn’t phase you- not even a weak joke that you’d heard from passerby during the previous week. He would have known anyway but he knows how bad it is when you can’t hide the wobble in your chin when you meet him at the door and melt into his arms.

     The sound of your stifled cries weaken his heart because he just knows how long you’ve been trying to hold it all together. You don’t know that he sheds his own tears at your sorrow. You don’t know that he feels his own pained heart grow just a touch because you trust him enough to be able to comfort you- to run to him when there is something you really can’t make better.

     When you finally stop trying to smother out the sound of your cries, it breaks his own heart into pieces because your grief is his. He doesn’t know what to do in this pile on the floor- your arms wrapped tightly around him in fear of him leaving with one hand resting at the top of your head and the other one of his hands supporting your neck as you weep into his shoulder- so he just holds you.

     And later, when your cries turn hoarse and the tears run dry, you let him pull you to your feet. He carries you to the dark bedroom because he knows you get headaches after crying. When you still don’t say a word he goes to the kitchen and scavenges some Tylenol and a cup of water.

     He knows you don’t like to feel helpless- to feel like you need to rely on someone. But if he’s being honest, he likes being able to care for you. He likes how you curl up with your head on his chest and your hands wrapped around him. He likes how you let him draw shapes on your back because you secretly love the physical touch. He likes how you let out soft sighs throughout the course of the movie because he knows you’re still awake.

     But most of all, he likes the intamacy of being the one you run to when it’s all too much because damn it all to hell if he made you feel like you weren’t free to be vulnerable with him.

[deunmiu-dessie]

he misses you. he misses you like a flower misses the sun. like the desert misses the rain. like you are the entirety of his being. as if you hold the key to his fierce, thumping bloody heart within the palm of your hands, like he is nothing without you— and perhaps he isn't. he doesn't feel like himself, no, in fact, he feels empty. like a shell of the man he used to be before you. he feels as though the world has lost its color, its meaning, and it makes him feel bare— it makes him feel.

he misses you. he misses the warmth of your perfume, a sweet and spicy blended aroma of saffron and sugared lavender. he misses your smile, all wide and pretty— genuine and charming, and always all for him. he misses the sound of your laughter, raw and boisterous, but sometimes soft and breathy, intimate. he misses your kisses, shy and cloying— yet fierce and angry at times as well. he misses the small things, like the scatter of moles across the expanse of your body that he finds himself counting when he can't fall asleep. or the way you fuss over him, mumbling curses and your love for him all in the same sentence.

he is nothing without you, and he knows it all too well.

the soft jangle of your keys in the lock makes him look up from his journal, the door swinging open. and despite himself, he finds that he's softened underneath your warm, loving gaze. ah, he also misses the sound of your voice, euphonious and soft, a tone you use for him specifically.

❝why are you looking at me like that?❞

he can feel his heart dance within his chest, pounding fiercely as you slant your hip to the side, the very same hips he adores holding onto when swaying with you to music. your eyes, which always seem to sweep him under with their intensity with no fail, are glittering with mirth, it knocks the breath from his chest. ❝ i adore you,❞ he utters— he sounds like a fool in love, and he doesn't particularly mind it. your cheeks flush with color and you playfully roll your eyes. that's alright, you don't need to say it back, he knows.

❝help me with the groceries?❞

he? ⸺ SIMON, gojo satoru, DAMON SALVATORE, soap, older!TANJIRO, scott mccall, GAZ, clark kent, EMMETT CULLEN, leon kennedy, STEVE HARRINGTON, giyu tomioka, JOHN PRICE, loran, ULYSSES, rick grimes, KÖNIG, dick grayson, SPENCER REID.

honestly it can be anyone you envision.

[the-diary-of-harrington]

Winter 1399 - day 1 on the ship

And so my exile begins.

I've decided to keep this diary as a companion through my journey.

I want to write at least once per season - not much, but I was never a writer to begin with. But maybe let's start with basics.

My name is John Harrington, I was born in London in year of our Lord 1379, January 20th.

I had good childhood, although unlike my brother I always preferred books over people.

Our parents were... troubled people. Even if as a younger sibling I was fortunately spared most of their anger.

My brother wasn't as lucky.

I often wonder if this is the reason why he joined the army. I never dared to ask.

I should get some sleep.

[toothachepup]

Hello Hello!

Me and my good friends are starting up a group roleplay and are looking for anyone who might be interested!

It centers around the adult characters but back in the late 50s when *they* would be in high-school because, uh, well- who doesn't love that? Join us in figuring out how our favorite tired adults became the way they are- or, at least partially.

We are open to any and all adults of hawkins and there isn't a character list- just come on in, tell us who you wanna be, and you'll get them! Wanna be mean girl Karen? Popular boy Harrington? Sure! Why not?

Characters that are ***taken*** however are:

Joyce Horowitz, Wayne Munson, Bob Newby, Murray Bauman, Henry Creel

My DMs are fully open! just throw me a message and I'll get back to ya!

Quick disclaimer: The server is not strictly 18+ as it should be completely SFW- it is 16+ instead, please keep this in mind if you choose to join, thank you.

[ivuhe]

I hate reading a x reader fic (or any fic tbh) where one character is like "big, buff, scary, man" and then "scared, defenseless, innocent girl." ... Like there's a way to write about a masculine character without pushing stereotypes or taking away from them (yk?)

Also, here's my incredible and accurate rendition of how those fics depict the relationships: