jules

silly little me

[onnightshift]

i dislike the whole “horror is so back” narrative people are throwing around recently with obsession and backrooms. both are great movies, but horror was also so back with the long walk. and sinners. and the substance. and nosferatu. and literally anything directed by jordan peele. horror as a genre will always have its flops. but there will always be those few that revive the hype.

[chujellys]

[lezkissgifs]

[terrapia]

the intimacy between them is overwhelmingly beautiful

VI & CAITLYN finally in ARCANE 2x08

[pinokkyoisdead]

loving her was funnier than a Saturday cartoon

A redraw of my 10 year old fanart:

[lilobsession]

I know who I am.

I talk to people and I don't know what to say.

I know I'm funny but I don't feel fun.

I know what I am and what I like, but I can't seem to express.

Tired — is what I feel.

I'm not tired.

Exhausted, must be it.

I'm twenty two, though.

Strange world — the world we are living in. I want to change, but I don't seem to find a way. Constant loop. Tired. Exhausted.

I know who I am, but there is no energy to share myself with others. Even if I want to.

Exhausted — is what I feel.

Constant loop — is where I fell.

by @Jules Nemo

[katya-zamos]

Trixie in UNHhhh Ep. 135

[tritzie-deactivated20250824]

[scrunchieandawig]

@sestramanning

[tritzie-deactivated20250824]

can you tell katie-bug about the show?

[lilobsession]

and in front of new friends who are not so familiar with their... chemistry... INSANE

[biadoreyou]

Trixie and Katya at the airport 💕

[but-sometimes-im-not]

✨instructions✨

[lilobsession]

I expected to start from scratch, but no one warned me that what I read in books could become my – or someone else’s – reality. And what you don’t expect is that this reality, like a speeding train, doesn’t just pass by –

it crashes into your little universe, knocks you off your feet, and leaves behind an indelible stain of nauseating memories.

[Jules Nemo]

[lilobsession]

I know how it happens. You see, you hear, you notice – but simply refuse to accept what’s really happening.

It’s easier to convince yourself it’s just your imagination, to find proof where there is none,

and to ignore the glaring red light screaming, "Run." If only there was somewhere to run.

[Jules Nemo]

[lilobsession]

He wasn’t the first, and he likely won’t be the last to try and sow doubt in me, hoping I’d find confidence in him.

And if you find this fabricated confidence – then it gets truly terrifying.

That’s when you’re truly alone. When you can’t trust yourself, you won’t ask for help. You don’t realise you need help.

It’s hard to hear your own voice amidst the clamor of those who try to drown it out.

[Jules Nemo]

[lilobsession]

"Honesty was his weapon. He wielded despair and pain, telling tales of betrayals

by those he cared for – those he stood before like a soul before God.

He spoke this way to make me believe his words, allowing him to win the game he played alone – against himself, against his ego.

Yet I knew:

he spoke too much about truth and betrayal, demanded revelations too often for someone who claimed to value the former, suffer from the latter, and wasn’t God himself."

[Jules Nemo]

[lilobsession]

The storm had finally passed. A soft halo from the sun closed the day, casting its gentle, purplish glow across the sky. There’s something mesmerizing about this view – deeply symbolic of my own story. I took a deep breath, savouring the moment, and turned a page in my book. Moments later, I stepped out of the carriage – and turned a new page in my life.

Or rather, flipped my life upside down.

I expected to start from scratch, but no one warned me that what I read in books could become my – or someone else’s – reality. And what you don’t expect is that this reality, like a speeding train, doesn’t just pass by – it crashes into your little universe, knocks you off your feet, and leaves behind an indelible stain of nauseating memories.

I know how it happens. You see, you hear, you notice – but simply refuse to accept what’s really happening. It’s easier to convince yourself it’s just your imagination, to find proof where there is none, and to ignore the glaring red light screaming, "Run". If only there was somewhere to run. I’m alone. I’ve always been alone – if I put the phone down and look around.

The worst part isn’t that it happened. No. The worst part is that it was happening long before I allowed myself to see, hear, and notice. Long before I allowed myself to confront what I already knew. He wove thin threads, trying to entwine himself into my life, my thoughts, my mind. You’re talented. You’re special. You’re the best. On days when he felt especially insecure and let his malicious nature show – You’re independent, and that is a curse.

Yes, I am independent. It is my salvation. He wasn’t the first, and he likely won’t be the last, to try and sow doubt in me, hoping I’d find confidence in him. And if you find this fabricated confidence – then it gets truly terrifying. That’s when you’re truly alone. When you can’t trust yourself, you won’t ask for help. You don’t realise you need help. It’s hard to hear your own voice amidst the clamour of those who try to drown it out.

There’s only one weapon against this. Do you know what it is?

Honesty was his weapon. He wielded despair and pain, telling tales of betrayals by those he cared for – those he stood before like a soul before God. He spoke this way to made me believe his words, allowing him to win the game he played alone – against himself, against his ego. Yet I knew: he spoke too much about truth and betrayal, demanded revelations too often for someone who claimed to value the former, suffer from the latter, and wasn’t God himself.

Honesty was my weapon. Honesty with myself. It’s hard to find the courage to admit that your life is in danger when you question everything around you. Searching for answers only entangles you further in the beast’s grip. Perhaps I should count the petals of a daisy – “Friend, or not a friend?” Maybe the last petal will reveal the truth you won’t find in an environment that – you feel, you see, you hear, you know – seeks to drown you in the Joker’s poisonous tricks.

The Joker is the strongest card in the deck: independence, transformation, adaptability – and triumph. I thought I was on the wrong page of my book. Yet it raised me strong and independent, much like those raised by parents who showed no attachment. And while I carefully hold on to the sun’s rays embracing the sky in my mind…

Let me deal the cards. It’s time to turn the page.

Take care, love.

~ Jules Nemo

[lilobsession]

Trixya fanfiction. F/F

1,890 words (friends to lovers, deep connection, intimacy, fluff, funny).

Caution: mention of alcohol use (very slightly, as a matter of fact, it happened already) and smoking.

Summary: Trixie’s head is spinning, and not just from the drinks. Tonight, everything is supposed to change - but instead, she’s stumbling through a blur of voices, faces, and a growing sense of panic. When she finally finds her girlfriend, Katya, in the quiet of the backyard, the last thing she expects is for everything to suddenly click into place.

Trixie’s walking is unstable. Her mind? Worse. Because tonight isn’t just any party. It’s the night she was supposed to tell them. Them – her friends, her family, her whole goddamn world. But now they’re all staring at her like they already know. Every drag queen she knows at this party is acting weird. It feels like her whole small world tightened to strangle her. She’s lost, and she just wants someone to tell her what’s wrong. That’s how she ended up here. In this never-ending corridor she can’t seem to escape. Family photos in the frames on the walls are a complete blur, except for the big-ass smiles she can see on the faces she cannot recognize right now. It was the moment she decided—no more alcohol in this lifetime. But now, she is crawling through the crowd at the party she was invited to as her girlfriend's "bring a friend with you." Damn it.

Her chest tightens. She can feel eyes on her, even though she can’t tell where they’re coming from. Every voice, every laugh, cuts through her, like she’s drowning in it. Like they are judging her, not only for being that drunk but also for having been that stupid to push back her friend for years. And now she can't even yell, "Look, we finally got there! She is mine!" So, she is still officially a stupid ass for her friends and the villain of this one-way love story they were developing. Plot twist, suckers. Except everybody acts like they know something she doesn't, too.

Where is Katya? She needs to find Katya. Katya is going to fix this. She fixes everything, every time, no matter how hard Trixie fucked up. It's funny everybody thinks that her girlfriend is the troubled one. Well, objectively—yes. That's probably why she deals with Trixie's and her own emotions so well and doesn't panic. Meanwhile, Trixie has panic attacks on a regular basis. She swears she’ll have a panic attack any minute if she doesn’t find Katya. Focus. Focus on the road. Who let Katya disappear like this?

She knows Katya left her with their friends, convinced of Trixie's absolute safety, but it's been ten whole minutes since she was gone. Too much. Her hands start to shake. Her vision blurs. She can't deal with this right now. Even though she knows she is overreacting, her dizziness makes her feel helpless and lonelier than usual. Anyway, there must be a door to the backyard. She tries hard to think clearly, and it makes her headache worse. Okay. Backyard. In the backyard must be her girl.

Trixie is in the middle of a kitchen full of unknown figures. Everybody's so goddamn bright and colorful. She takes her time to see through them, to finally catch a door in her side-eye. She doesn't bother pushing people out of her way; they don't even seem to care. They keep talking, too loud for Trixie's taste. The second she reaches the door, she jumps out in excitement at the fresh air. The sudden change in temperature sends shock signals straight to her brain, immediately sobering her a little bit.

She spots a flash of red leather at the far end of the yard. She heads there, snuggling into her coat. She hopes it's her coat. She has no idea. It was on the couch, and she thought she might need it later. Katya is a smoker, and she disappeared. Simple math, right?

The backyard is almost empty. Or maybe it’s just the dark of the night playing tricks on her. But there’s Katya – just Katya. It makes her think about the recent article she read. It said stars would be incredibly visible on this exact night. She is curious, but unfortunately, she can't check. Turning her head up might be the death of her. The world is spinning and shit. At this point, she would lose her gravity—the thought alone makes her nauseous.

Katya is smoking. Her eyes focus on Trixie the moment she opens the door, following her walk with caution, like she is holding herself back from running with open arms toward her. Trixie can see Katya's arms flick with every step she's taking. She almost chuckles at how she must look to people around her.

"Jeez, slow down, princess." Katya's face lights up with a smile that reminds Trixie of the cat's smile from Alice in Wonderland—like she is observing the funniest and cutest little thing she's ever seen.

Trixie smiles proudly. That's her girlfriend, and she likes Trixie. Very, very much. Not like her friend, but like her lover. They did it. Gosh, they really did it. She reaches out to her girlfriend, making the last steps toward her. Katya's hands catch her halfway through, preventing her from falling. Trixie's head falls on Katya's shoulder. She inhales loudly. Katya smells like cigarettes, like her muscular but sweet perfume, like her mint shampoo. And she can't help but sink deeper into the red leather, fully losing herself in that sensation. Katya's silence and hands around her waist don't help either. She wishes she could stay in that feeling of Katya forever.

"Have you done smoking?" Trixie asks, mumbling into Katya's shoulder.

"Just one more minute, baby. I'll take you home after," Katya answers in a raspy voice. Her hold tightens on Trixie's waist.

Trixie straightens herself but keeps the short distance. Katya's eyes follow her again, now watching her reach out for the cigarette between her fingers. Katya is surprised by the move but doesn't show it, almost helping Trixie place the cigarette into her own fingers. But that's not what Trixie wants. Instead, Trixie firmly grasps Katya's wrist. Their eyes lock together as Trixie inhales a smoke from the tiny remainder of the cigarette Katya's been smoking. Katya's fingers are dangerously close to Trixie's lips. She exhales into the sky, barely focusing on the stars spreading before her vision. Yeah. Bright, as she thought.

She smiles frankly, her eyes back on Katya's, who seems deeply in her own head. Still observing her.

“Thanks, babe.” Trixie says, her voice teasing. She knows damn well there’s nothing left for Katya to smoke.

Before Katya could answer, Trixie leans in for a quick kiss. She wants to touch and touch and touch. She pulls away with a loud smack, watching Katya's lips form a grin. All the sensations sharpened by alcohol in her body, and she can't help but lean into a hug again. Closer, tighter. She wants to smell Katya, feel Katya, love Katya.

Her sweet dreams are interrupted by Katya's uncontrollable wheezing. She laughs with her whole body, and Trixie immediately distances herself.

"I mean, I know I can be a little too much sometimes, but have you seen yourself?" she starts softly. Katya's joy seems to level up at this sentence, so Trixie follows up with offense: "Sorry I can't stay away from you, but can you stop laughing at me? Oh my God."

"You won't believe how drunk you were," Katya finally answers, wiping tears from the corners of her blue eyes.

Katya distances herself even more, letting Trixie's waist out of her grip. It confuses Trixie. What is going on? She might get really offended if not for yesterday. Yesterday was very real, and there is no way her feelings are one-sided. There is no way Katya would make her believe that ever again. Trixie might be the one who pushed Katya away from the very beginning, but Katya is the one who hid her real desires for a long time. She had a reason, though, and Trixie will never forgive herself for it—even if Katya already did.

Trixie rolls her eyes, leaning into Katya’s ear. "Don't play with me, Katya. I might be drunk, but I can still see through you. Hug me, or I swear to God..." She doesn't finish. She is pretty sure she just heard somebody coughing in the back. The realization hits her. "Oh my God, are they all here?"

Katya scratches her nose awkwardly, trying to hide her smile. She just nods. Trixie's eyes widen. She can feel an "Oh, there ain’t no other way!" joke on the tip of her tongue. She used to laugh out every situationship they had, and they are not coming back. Besides, they probably heard and saw enough. Besides, Trixie doesn't care. Besides, Katya was the one who wanted to tell their friends straight away, but Trixie asked to wait until they finished their project together. "Don't date your colleague" type of bullshit she cared for. It was something she used to be afraid of – letting everyone see just how much she cared, just how long it took her to stop running. But that fear died the second they got together, replaced by something softer, steadier: trust in Katya.

She whines – too many thoughts. She feels even more lightheaded than a second ago.

"Katya," she simply says, softly. "Take me home." Even softer. "I can't deal with it today." Defeated.

Katya giggles, and Trixie can feel herself smiling, too. Katya finally takes hold of her hand and starts to guide her to the door. As she turns to the front of the yard, Trixie can see probably all their friends standing there with the naughtiest and most mysterious smiles on their faces. She whines loudly, seeing every fucking friend of theirs who was at the party—now in the backyard. How lucky are they? Jeez.

The crowd seems to unfreeze, like they weren't allowed to be noisy, like they came here just to watch a scene in silence, to watch girls being madly in love with each other. And then they suddenly are alive again, mumbling loudly about something that Trixie cannot hear. Too many voices covering each other. She is confused and might be drunk, but she can clearly see some people high-fiving. She can see Bianca giving five dollars to Bob. Jinkx smiling at them like she saw that coming. Wait. Stop. Money? Did they bet on them? She frowns, looking for the answer in Katya's reaction. Katya’s smile is a little too knowing, like she was in on some joke Trixie hadn’t caught up to yet. It tells her she is the only one who didn't know about this whole thing of why-is-nobody-actually-surprised.

“I mean, duh!” Bianca cheers them with a bear. “Please don’t fuck each other like that in public ever again. We’ve seen it before, and it’s getting worse every day.” Regardless of what she is saying, her voice and eyes stay gentle the whole time.

Everybody’s giggling, and that’s the puzzle-pieces-made-a-picture moment for her. Their weird behavior finally makes sense. She tells Katya with her eyes only that Katya is in trouble for that. And Katya answers her with a wide smile. Katya feels so happy. So happy, she is glowing like the stars in the night sky Trixie observed earlier. She can't help but feel pure happiness, too. Maybe Katya always knew it would end like this—with everyone watching, with no fear left to hide. And maybe Trixie’s just realizing now that she was always ready, too.

Hi, balds! I’m Jules, and I really hope you enjoyed this small piece of my craft.

⋆ I’m considering turning it into a full-length story, so please let me know if you’d be interested in that! ⋆

You can find me and this work on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilObsession/pseuds/LilObsession