#Cherrydreamer

[ihni]

Don't Leave Me (Hanging on the Telephone) by @cherrydreamer

This fic. Listen. Listen. This fic, I've been following it since it was just random ramblings in a discord chat, and I also recced it last year (when it was a WIP). It is now complete.

I have known this fic since it was planned to be only eight chapters. I have heard every and all apologies by Cherry when the chapter count was increased, and I have waved them all away - because more of this story means more of the GOOD STUFF, and I will never ever complain about that.

The premise is this: Billy's stuck in the Upside Down, although everyone think he died. One day Steve gets a phone call ... from his own house, in the Upside Down ...

Long-distance (surely it can still be called long-distance when they're in different dimensions, although in the same house?) boys falling in love. It's sweet, it's romantic, it's got monsters and action. It's got it all!

I have this fic printed into a book. You won't regret reading it.

[shaken-up-sofa]

Stop by and We’ll have a Blizzard!

He’s mister White Christmas. He’s Mr Snow, He’s mister Icicle, he’s mister Ten-Below. They call him Snow Miser, whatever he touches, turns to snow in his Clutch! He’s too Much!

She’s miss Green Christmas, Shes Ms Sun, She’s Ms Heat-blister, she’s Miss hundred-and one. They call her Heat Miser, Whatever She Touches, Starts to melt in her Clutch! She’s Too Much!

Oh and Floyd as an Elf, lolol

I posted this to one of my instagrams as well, CherryDreamer, if you’d like to check that out as well

Honestly Velvet and Veneer have been eating my brain!

[passivenovember]

Happy Valentines Day!

Dedicated to my babies over in the smut cave. Thanks for making everyday so saturated in horniness that I can’t feel anything but love. You’re the best.

And to @cherrydreamer , who is so good I’m pretty sure God could learn a thing or two.

--

Steve’s not his boyfriend. Billy ties honesty around each wrist to keep himself in place whenever things start to feel a little too much like a roll of party balloons.

And they always do, with Steve. Because Steve’s an idiot.

He’s full of shining romance. He parks the Beemer outside Billy’s house every morning before school even though Billy’s got a car because Steve hopes, against all hope, that Billy will roll over and be his girlfriend.

That he’ll let Steve hold his hand and carry his books and allow Steve to drive them to school. Billy and Max, fighting over the radio station and tracking mud onto the floors while Steve grins like a moron.

Harrington has a death wish disguised as chivalry.

Because even though Billy aims to chew his head off and Neil would probably bury them both alive if he ever caught on, Steve climbs through bedroom windows and tucks notes onto mattress pillows and in between the slots of lockers because he’s got flowers growing out his ass.

Love’s gonna win out, for him.

Billy doesn’t get it. 

The hope. The peppery, love-sick gestures. He could pick them by the handful, each colored for a different moronic display of Steve’s lingering affection. 

And it’s not that Billy hates flowers, it’s just. 

It’s spring. 

It’s the promise of the days getting longer and air gusting warmer and the hope that even though he’s still living like a stoned crab under the ever-present weight of his father, Billy could relax into Steve’s attention and summer will drape itself over the land. 

If he just gave in, July would burn hot on his shoulder blades.

–

Billy doesn’t give in. 

He can’t.

He could lie and say it’s all part of some rude awakening. He’ll take Steve’s dick up his ass, down his throat, blooming like cactus blossoms between both hands, but he doesn’t love him.

But, turns out, as January melts into six more weeks of winter and Heather’s warning that this thing between Billy and Steve’ll vanish as soon as the ground starts to thaw, Steve gets restless.

Billy can’t blame him. Knows they’ve both got a lesbian ear-worm chewing their confidence to shit. 

Heather urges Billy to stop being such a piranha and Robin tells Steve he’s gonna get his heart smashed and tossed like a new penny into the ocean. Lost. Forgotten on its descent to the bottom of the hapless sea. 

And to be honest, no one’s ever been able to guess why Steve chose this. Billy, in all his pathetic glory. 

But he did. He picked Billy like a thorn from his side.

And they hammer themselves into something like the mockery of a relationship because that’s what people do. They fuck. They smoke pot and dry hump and fuck again, each chewing on the idea that maybe this won’t last. 

Billy’s good at ignoring it and Heather and himself until the weekend before Valentines Day. 

Steve pulls out of him. Rolls onto his back and says, “You never gaze at me,” even though his spunk is cooling the sheets under Billy’s naked thighs.

Billy shifts on the pillow, blowing smoke at the ceiling so it won’t end up in Steve’s eyes.

Steve won’t look at him.

He’s got the sheets tucked up around his chest, arms crossed over their slick face like he’s ashamed of himself, maybe, for the first time ever. Regretful of Billy. Of this thing between them.

Billy frowns. “I don’t do what?”

“You don’t gaze at me,” Steve tells him, Adam’s Apple bobbing like he needs a cool drink. “Y’know. Like when you see a pretty girl–”

“Don’t like girls, remember?”

“Okay, then,” Steve rolls onto his side, propping himself seriously on one elbow. “Say it’s a cute guy. Handsome.”

“Alright.”

“When you see a handsome guy, you know? In a nice car, do you ever–”

“Is it a fast car?”

Steve blinks. “Does it matter?”

“‘Course it does,” Billy sucks on his smoke again, teasing, “Fast car’s a sign of taste. And to be able to afford that kinda car you’ve gotta have money. And in my experience, any guy with money’s got a cock on him.”

“Every guy’s got a cock.”

“Yeah, but not every cock’s a good one,” Billy winks, “Ain’t that right, Rolls Royce?”

Steve turns red, all the way down his chest. Billy has the familiar urge to pin him to the mattress and lick at his nipples, see if they taste like strawberry jam when he blushes like that.

But Steve’s eyebrows are threaded together. Serious, when he says, “You’re saying the only thing that’d trap you in a gaze is a nice car?”

Billy shrugs. “I don’t gaze.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“I could, though,” Billy looks over at him, guilty for the thrill that rolls through him at the sight of Steve, naked and pissed off. “If we’re talking about a fast car, and a rich guy, and a nice cock–”

“Forget it,” Steve snaps, sitting until the sheets pool around his waist. “Forget I said anything, alright?” Harrington jostles the bed, swinging his legs over one side. He reaches for his pants, tugging them on so roughly Billy’s worried he’ll give himself rug burn. 

Billy puffs on his cigarette. “Where you going, pretty boy?”

“Gotta piss.”

“You’re putting clothes on for that?”

Steve drops his pants as if they’ve caught fire. “Maybe I’ll leave.”

Billy snorts. “You live here.”

“Well, I’m not gonna kick you out,” Steve snaps. Annoyed. He’s never been this irritated with Billy before. So pressed he won’t even look at him.

Steve always looks at him. 

Gazes. 

It’s not a great feeling.

Billy props himself against the headboard, trying to backtrack whatever landmine he ate shit over. Steve’s seething on the edge of the mattress, so far away he might as well be in Asia. So close Billy can map the constellations between his shoulder blades. “Come here,” Billy says softly.

Steve shakes his head. 

“Steve.”

“You’re such an asshole sometimes.”

“I know,” Billy pinches the butt between his teeth. “Come here anyway.”

One moment yawns into the next and then Steve’s toes follow each other back onto the mattress. He tucks under the sheets, eyes tacked to the ceiling. 

“What,” Steve says. Taught and fragile. Bitchy.

Billy chokes on a swell of something. Swallows it down. “You don’t wanna cuddle?” He asks, exactly how Steve always does. Batting his eyelashes where he knows Harrington can see. 

But Steve won’t budge. He crosses his arms. “Tell me what you want and I’ll consider it.”

And Billy. 

He’s a pro at flipping the script. At hiding in plain sight. He’s been pretending to want this and nothing more if it means he’ll get Steve. A couple nights a week fucking in a bed he never sleeps in, watching every flash of desperate pleasure on Harrington’s face because there’s no chance he’ll run into the weight of anything when he’s caught in orgasm land. 

Billy doesn’t say the only time he feels good is when Steve comes. Doesn’t own up to the way it gets him through the swell of night, the memory of being so close to someone who’s good because it’s his nature. 

Steve never has to try. He’s perfect.

And Billy isn’t ready to admit anything. That he recognizes it. Feels Steve’s brilliance like a twisting knife in the back; Tell me what you want–

Billy clears his throat. “Do you want me to leave?”

The possibility makes him nauseous. Steve takes the cigarette that’s handed to him, perfect plush lips closing around the butt of the thing.

“Tell me, baby. I’ll go right now. You’ll never have to see me again–”

“God, you’re a dumbass, too, you know that?” Steve hands the cigarette over, jaw tense. “If I wanted you gone I would’ve kicked you out forever ago.”

“You. You mean tonight, or–”

“Yeah,” Steve tells him softly. “Months before that. Before I fell in love with you.”

Billy chews on their cigarette and watches Steve in between puffs. The way his lashes flutter when he’s trying not to give the side eye. 

Billy feels haunted. By everything. His future. The way Steve’s so free with his words and his truth, tossing them at Billy like red roses and rotting tomatoes. Steve says he loves him, and Billy’s heard it before. Steve’s sentiment gets lost in the roiling anger that makes Billy who he is. 

But tonight, it’s silenced.

Steve’s I love you’s have that effect on him. Cutting all the noise from the sky as his attention drapes over Billy like the lid of a coffin. Like sunlight, too. 

Daylight.

Billy turns to face him, his wrist cracking under the weight of his head. “Do you want me to gaze at you more?” He asks.  

Steve chews on a mouthful of smoke and then blows it at the ceiling until it looks like a cloud.

A bunny or an anvil. Something.

“I could,” Billy says. “You’ve got everything that grabs my attention, you know?”

“What? Money and cars and–”

“Yeah, but. It’s not only that shit, I was. I was kidding.”

Steve blinks. “You were kidding?”

“Mostly.”

“Mostly,” Steve says, as if tasting the caramel drop word on his tongue. He shifts on the mattress, glancing over and away again. Teasing. “Alright. What else about me grabs your attention?”

“You’re really gonna make me spell it out for you? Itemized list style?”

Steve’s demeanor falls flat again. A punctured balloon trickling from the sky. “Never mind,” He says, “Forget it. You obviously don’t feel the same about me as I do about you–”

“You make me laugh, okay?” Billy spits. 

He swallows thickly. Fiddles with the lip of the sheets. His words burn like acid. He’s cut to the bone. 

“I like the way you drum on your knee when there’s a song you dig. You have passions. You read, but you’re not very good at it. You help me study even though you mispronounce everything. You’re kind.”

And suddenly, Steve’s looking at him. Through him, too, past every swirling atom, toggling layers of bullshit and titanium walls meant to keep everyone out.

But under the cosmic starfall of Steve’s gaze and his attention and his love–

Billy’s walls never stood a chance.

“I like you,” Billy grits. 

There. 

He said it. He told the truth and now Harrington can out a lid on those eyes and stop looking at Billy like he ran over the family dog–

“You mean it?” Steve asks.

As if Billy’s saying something else. Like he’s admitting to a crime, or accepting a ticket to go anywhere in the universe.

Billy frowns, not understanding. “I guess so.”

Steve watches him for another endless, yawning moment. “Prove it.” He says, and finishes the cigarette.

–

It’s kind of how Max was, in that weird space between Billy’s first I’m Sorry and where they are now. 

Billy had to work for it because Billy has to work for everything. It’s like purgatory. Paying out of pocket for all the shit he’s done wrong in his life. 

Steve says, “prove it,” and Billy doesn’t really believe him at first. 

They aren’t together. Billy isn’t his fucking girlfriend, and Steve’s old enough that he’s supposed to have stopped wishing for grand gestures. 

Doesn’t he know that shit isn’t real? That husbands get their wives flowers because they got caught fucking their secretaries, and boyfriends only tuck fuzzy animals into their girlfriends arms to apologize for getting drunk and covering her in bruises?

But the more Billy turns it over in his hands, the more he realizes he should’ve seen this coming.

Steve’s got a pension for anything sappy and romantic. 

He goes hog wild for John Huges and sets money aside for February 15th, when all the Valentine’s candy is on sale. He sings the Ronettes at the top of his lungs when Billy’s pissed off, wiggling his hips and begging Billy to be his little baby. 

Steve pretends not to trace love hearts on storefront windows. He ignores thoughts of dinner reservations and avoids all conversation of expensive springtime bouquets until someone asks his opinion, and suddenly Steve’s a florist. 

Last year he even helped Max and her Nerdy friends plan a romantic double date night, complaining all the while even though he made Billy hide with him in the back room so they could spy–

And.

It hits Billy like a freight train.

“No,” Billy tells himself. He shakes his head, curls catching obnoxiously on the pillow beneath him. “No way–”

He’s not asking the Nerd Squad for help/

He’d never hear the end of it. They’d roast him alive and it would cost him every cent in his California fund. Curly top would accuse him, all over again, of not being suave or good or smart enough for someone like Steve, and the rest would co-sign without ever saying a word, and–

No.

Billy isn’t going to put himself through that type of ego-death all for a pair of legs, and that’s final.

But just as he starts to doze off, dreams lapping at his toes like warm ocean water, Billy settles with the fact that he has no other choice.

It’s his ego or Steve, and if Billy doesn’t play this right he’ll never love again.

–

“He says you never gaze at him?”

Billy digs his nails into his palm. “That’s what I said.”

“Steve’s kind of confusing.”

“You’re telling me.”

“I mean, it’s so weird,” Max’s shoes thump against the base of the couch, filling their empty house on Cherry lane with music. “You throw plenty of gaze at him.”

“I know, right?”

“You are gay-ze,” Max teases.

And if Billy were any less desperate, he might stick a wet thumb in her ear for that one. But he’s on his last leg. He’s tearing his curls out by the root. He’s climbing the walls, he’s–

Max frowns. “Tough crowd.”

“It was funny,” Billy tries, smile stiff and unnatural. “I was gonna laugh, but–”

“But you’re worried if you don’t do something grand and rom-com perfect Steve’ll dump you.”

Billy glares at her. “There’s nothing to dump. We aren’t dating.”

“Sure,” Max says slyly. 

She’s such a little shit. She’s the worst.

Billy bites against the urge to bully her. To pinch her arm and revert back to his old self to get what he wants out of the situation.

Max shrugs her knobby little shoulders and admits, “Steve’s not that hard to romance.”

Billy drops the act entirely. “How the fuck would you know that?”

“When he helped Lucas and Mike plan our double-date last year he gave this obnoxious speech about how girls pretend like we want diamonds and flashy declarations, but really it’s the thought that counts.”

But. “Steve’s not a girl,” Billy thunks his head on the back of the couch, exhausted.

This is bullshit.

This is so difficult–

“It’s not like you could afford to do anything obnoxious even if you wanted to,” Max tells him. 

And Billy gets that it’s meant to be reassuring.

Steve was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Anything he wants he can get for himself, including expensive bouquets and five-star dinners. Hell, he could get himself off, too. Doesn’t need Billy for anything. Not really. 

But that’s half the trouble.

If Billy can’t live up to the Valentine's Steve can plan for himself, he doesn’t know why he’s trying. 

Why he’s losing sleep, sick to his stomach over the thought that this might be it.

“Stop spiraling,” Max sits on the coffee table in front of him, knocking their toes together until Billy pins her with a heat-less glare. “When you imagine a perfect day with Steve–”

“I’m not talking about this with you.”

“Why? Max demands, “Because it involves a lot of open mouthed kisses?”

“Just tell me what you think he would like.”

“A handjob, probably.”

Billy sits ramrod straight. “Max, let’s watch the mouth.”

“Don’t take it out on me. I’m pretty sure that’s what every guy wants.”

“Steve’s not every guy, he’s. He’s fucking perfect and he was born in a castle and he’s always had anything he’s ever wanted and I’m a piece of shit–” 

“Billy, you’re fine,” Max tells him. Because, of course, she sees right through Billy’s vitriol.

He’s made of glass.

He’s a window. A crystal slipper, plummeting to its brain-shattered death.

Max knocks their toes together again. “Even if you served him a burnt pot of macaroni on a dirty plate, tucked over a sticky dining room table, he’d love it.”

“Why,” Billy snaps, “Because it’s me.”

“Because it’s you,” She says, eyes blue and earnest. “Now, walk me through your perfect date.”

–

In the end, mop top and the wheeler kid think it’s sweet that Billy’s trying in the first place.

They give him his blessing.

On February 14th, a day that’s so cloud-covered and rain drenched that Billy almost wants to call the whole parade off and stay in bed until the sun rises red and new, Steve’s dorks manage to get him out of the house.

His parents are in Rome, because.

Of course they’re in Rome. The city of love.

And Billy’s been shaking hard enough to cause an Earthquake since the second he got into the shower this morning, but Max smiles and says, “Tonight, Hawkins is the most romantic place in the world.”

So Billy chooses hope.

They light candles. They decorate. Billy orders heart-shaped pizza because he’d probably give them food poisoning if he tried to cook, and suddenly it’s 5:00.

The dorks clear out.

When the front door opens, Steve runs headfirst into a hallway covered in wilting daisy petals. He’s immediately tangled in the strings of four stubborn Get Well balloons because Max tried her best.

He drops his shopping bags when he sees the candles.

He almost brains it on the stairs, because Billy’s waiting in a suit, collar uncomfortably tight around the knob of his throat.

“Billy–” He says, with tears in his eyes.

But Billy’s gotta spit it out, before the words choke him to death. He takes the stairs two at a time, arriving at the bottom.

“Steve,” He says, kind of breathless. “I don’t just like you. I love you, and. Max helped me plan this because I’m an idiot. And the balloons are all wrong and I didn’t cook you anything, not even macaroni, but I love you, and--”

“It’s perfect,” Steve tells him.

And Billy doesn’t want to brag, but.

He proves it. Seals the deal with a kiss.

[catharrington]

Little King Trashmouth (and his raccoon friends) by Glitter_Bug.

The porch light may be dim, but it's easy enough to see that both of the trash cans have been pushed over, their lids rolling away and their bags spilling everywhere. One of which is rustling and shaking and...moving. Because there’s definitely something there.

Steve reaches behind him, pushing Billy back towards the house. It's like trying to push a damn brick wall.

So Steve steps forward instead. And then he sees it.

"Oh!”

A striped, fluffy tail is poking out of one of the ripped trash bags. It looks a lot like Mr. Richardson's grouchy tabby cat from over the road, so Steve gives the fluffy butt a gentle nudge with his big toe.

“Hey, go on. Get. Shoo."

The creature attached to the tail does not budge. Steve nudges again, a bit harder, and the cat disappears even further into the bag.

Steve kneels down, grimacing as some trash water soaks into the knees of his jeans, trying to coax the cat out with a gentle stroke, and then a bit more of a tug when it doesn't work.

He wonders if it's stuck, got its head lodged in a can of tuna or something, so he reaches in even further, managing to grab the kitty by the scruff of its neck and pull it gently backwards, grinning in triumph when the animal allows itself to be manhandled with a surprising lack of fuss.

Steve stands up, his arm outstretched in front of him, holding a fat, fluffy...critter by the scruff of his neck.

It's not Mr Richardson's tabby. It's not even a cat.

It's a damn raccoon.

He turns to show Billy, waiting for the sneer of disgust or a huff of annoyance. And instead, Steve watches as Billy melts. Instantly.

"Oh. My. God!" he gasps, and Steve blinks as Billy’s voice leaps up a few octaves, his hands flying up to his face.

"Oh oh oh! He’s so cute. Steve, look! Look at his squishy face and oh my god, oh my god his little hands! Oh he's a baby!"

(Thank you so much @ihni for your donation to harringrove for Turkey! The request was for a moodboard for one of the lovely fics from @cherrydreamer aka glitter_bug. And we all love little king trashmouth so so much, I picked that one!!! Thanks to both of you for bribing such joy and warmth into the community and for donating 🖤🖤🖤)

[dragonflylady77]

Ghost!Billy fics

(they're all harringrove because that's what I'm into)

*disclaimer* I only included completed fics or one shots that were Harringrove and ended in a happy way.

If you follow the Ghost Billy Hargrove tag on Ao3 you'll find 17 fics (as of today).

I Ain’t Fraid Of No Ghosts by @heck-in-a-handbasket - the second smuttiest fic I’ve ever read (the smuttiest is never gets old by @brawlite - modern AU, Steve is a cam boy and Billy is a model)

You're A Vision by @jellyfishloveletterghosts - OS, smutty and fun

Cocktober 1: Ouija Board AKA Billy is DEAD horny by @cherrydreamer - Steve + Ghost!Billy + a ouija board = smutty & fun OS

This Ain't Ghostbusters by @wilddragonflyingg - not quite a ghost in the end... OS inspired by a wonderful piece of art by @wrecked-fuse you can find here

you're cold (and i burn) by @keroujack - post Starcourt, Steve helps Max move out Billy's stuff, and he takes home a pretty glass ashtray... (I love that one)

Who you gonna call? by CasuallySpooky - OS, ghost hunting with a ghost

Purgatory by boltplum - Post S3 introspective Ghost!Billy, OS (I'm dying for more)

tides will bring me back to you by eternalgoldfish - Post S3 fix it dark comedy fic (32k fic - I haven't read that one yet!)

the boy and the car by @lazybakerart - wonderful OS set in the future

in your neighborhood by rvspberry - a 2-chapter sweet and smutty fic with Ghost!Billy and Ghost!Steve! So I guess a ghost AU?

A night with the King by @cieldepeanut - OS, Billy comes back as a ghost and spends Halloween night with Steve (not exactly happy ending)

Room 35 by @memes-saved-me - Harringrove AHS Hotel AU, Resident ghost Billy Hargrove takes a liking to the hotel's new guest Steve Harrington, causing what started as a simple trip to LA ending in a mess of emotions and some new stains on the carpet… (this one wrecked me and put me back together again).

This list is by no means closed, feel free to DM me other HG fics with Ghost!Billy to add to the list!

[grey-sides]

HHE2022, All the Way Home I'll Be Warm

Happy New Year, everyone!! Creator reveals have happened, so I can finally share what I gifted @cherrydreamer this year!

Featuring: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Coming Out, Fluff, Baking, Miscommunication and Light Angst

This fic takes place After Season 3 and Season 4 never happened but it's a few years in the future so things have settled down in Hawkins.

The summary and link is below- I hope you check it out and enjoy!!

Since Steve's mother has evidently decided to not take on the role of mother-henning him about meeting someone, Dustin has definitively taken over. With Joyce and Hopper's wedding only a few short weeks away on Christmas Eve, Steve needs to find a date, and fast. Billy's available, single, and Steve's roommate. It's the perfect plan! As long as Steve can keep his feelings in check.

[bigdumbbambieyes]

I haven't seen anyone mention @lazybakerart who writes some of the most heartwrenchingly honest Harringrove I've ever read. There are too many amazing authors to mention, but some other favourites are @passivenovember @ihni @cherrydreamer

another one for sara and some super lovely writers!! 🤍 thank you so much for sharing this and spreading the love!

i’m inviting people to give shout-outs to their favourite fic writers, send me an ask (anon or not)!

[weird-an]

Last Line Tag Game!

Rules: Post the last line from your current wip and tag as many people as you want.

Thank you @aeon-of-neon for the tag! ♥️

“Why do I dream of monsters with a shit ton of teeth?”

This is for a soulmate AU (my first try!) for the Billy Hargrove Bingo in which they dream of each other's memories when they first touch each other at practice. Steve's POV and he also dreams of Billy's mom throwing the plate at Neil…

Tagging without pressure: @bigdumbbambieyes @chrisbitchtree @ihni @cherrydreamer @callieb and everybody else who wants to!

[witchsickness]

🎶✨ when u get this u have to put 5 songs u actually listen to, publish. then, send this ask/tag 10 of your favourite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)✨🎶

tagged by @chrisbitchtree CHRIS. you’re so cool. an overall 10/10 human bean. thank u 🖤

crush (stripped) - ethel cain

time comes in roses - bess atwell

kill her freak out - samia

vanderlyle crybaby geeks - the national

now you’re alone - eliza shaddad

tagging @thesmellofstorms @cherrydreamer @somekindofmetaangel @desert-dino @eternalgoldfish @amidstardust @saintbronte @opaldraws @karadenizin @passivenovember if u want <3

[harringrove-flip-reverse-it]

🎶✨when u get this u have to put 5 songs u actually listen to, publish. then, send this ask/tag 10 of your favourite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool) 🎶✨

I was tagged by @smellsliketwistedaddiction but you KNOW there's only one song I can publish right now....

Anyone else remember this legendary track from back in the day? If you like it, just remember to come and Flip Reverse it in the last week of March!

Questions? Want to know how to play? Check out the FAQs!

What songs have you all been listening to? I'm tagging @ihni, @cherrydreamer, @chrisbitchtree. @keziahrainalso, @prettyboybillyhargrove, @imsodishy, @soldotnaandqueens, @lazybakerart, @serenity-lattes, @shieldofiron and anyone else who wants to play!

[ihni]

Tagged by @dragonflylady77, thank you!

How many works do you have on AO3? 83 on the ihni account, 125 on the Thei account

What's your total AO3 word count? 26.918 on the ihni account, 1.017.239 on the Thei account (which, wohooo!! and that's gonna increase with 100K as soon as I finish my current one, which I'm very excited about")

What fandoms do you write for? Mostly Stranger Things these days (although there's been lots of rhymes for other fandoms too)

Do you respond to comments? I try to, yes, because I loooooove comments. <3

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of, thankfully. They're probably not good enough to be stolen, which suits me fine.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? ... not really? I've gotten help with parts of Fast and Frightening (car and driving parts!), but I haven't really co-written a real fic with someone since me and @mikajupiterjonesingtimcurryfeet used to write self-insert crack fics when we were younger XD (This is supposing that random scenarios that me and @callieb and @missroserose and @cherrydreamer come up with in the group chat doesn't count, lol)

What's your all-time favourite ship? Listen. Ships ... are ships. I like different ships, but I'm not IN it for the ships, you know? I'm here for the characters, and my all-time favorite character is Billy Hargrove. (Which means that Harringrove is probably closest to me, since I have read most of that. But I don't mind Mungrove or Metal Sandwich, and I've been reading fics that ship Billy with other boys/men, too.)

What are your writing strengths? Dialogue, I imagine.

What are your writing weaknesses? Everything else; vocabulary, descriptions, flowery language, lol.

First fandom you wrote for? ... I couldn't tell you. Depends on what counts!

Tagging: Those of you who I have already tagged in this text, as well as @shieldofiron @robthegoodfellow @bigdumbbambieyes @brawlite and @magniloquent-raven, and whoever else wants to do this!

[ihni]

@callieb @cherrydreamer Our groupchats, complete with the "oooh"'s.

fic planning be like:

[passivenovember]

Last Line Game

Tagged by the lovely and talented @neonponders

rules: post the last few lines from your current wip and tag as many people as you want.

From the next chapter of If Snow Loves the Trees and Fields

Billy knows. He’s exhausted. Isn’t in the mood to be preached at. “Is this going somewhere, or–”

“To be honest? I don’t think so. He’s in love with you and I think you’re a nice guy, but you���ve got some growing up to do.”

Billy bleeds. He tries to stop it.

The next breath Billy takes sounds like he’s being waterboarded. His lungs contract, pushing wet out of every orifice and Nancy blinks huge, green eyes at him.

Like this is his fault.

Like he’s doing something to hurt her. “Billy,” Nancy says, saccharine sweet and innocent as a lamb, “I’m not telling you this to be a bitch.”

Billy shoves away from the counter, “Could’ve fooled me.”

.

Tagging (if you fancy it): @witchsickness @cherrydreamer @imsodishy @cherry-sorry @cuepickle

[myrtleclangen]

Myrtleclan Moons 6-10

Moon 6

Bored of his life as an elder, Whisperingleaf decides to become a mediator. He isn't half-bad at it, either, much to the shock of the clan.

Just as Cliffdapple recovered from her illness, the harsh leaf-bare wiped the medicine cats' herb store.

Fallingpaw has received her warrior name after a successful assessment. She is named Fallingfang. However, on one of her first walks through the territory as a warrior, she gets her leg caught in a Two-leg trap.

Not too long after, Thymeflare and Pinestar discover an injured cat near the Thunderpath. They take the molly, named Rainbow, into the clan to heal.

Friendstripe is seen walking around camp, chest puffed out, wearing pink and red petals. Speculations that these were a gift from Murkdrizzle are almost proven true as they eat their meals together every day.

Moon 7

Cliffdapple has developed a little crush on Burrowspirit and follows him around often.

On a hunting patrol, Jollybramble saves Friendstripe from a dog, but is badly injured herself.

However, Friendstripe is also badly injured after challenging Pinestar's ability to lead the clan. With the help of Burrowstripe, Pinestar shuts down Friendstripe, though all parties are injured.

Thymeflare and Fallingfang are killed by a pack of rogues. Murkdrizzle is subsequently named deputy.

Friendstripe asks Murkdrizzle to be his mate, but is shut down. Rainsplash comforts Friendstripe saying that, despite his past romantic failures, Murkdrizzle is simply too stressed about his new position to take a mate at the moment.

Moon 8

Whisperingleaf convinces a few other clanmates that Murkdrizzle has been rather stuck-up and rude since becoming deputy.

While Burrowspirit quickly heals from his wounds in the scuffle with Friendstripe, the latter's becomes infected.

Cherrydream and Whisperingleaf are seen returning from a midnight stroll!

Moon 9

As Pinestar's and Friendstripe's wounds remain infected, and Burrowstripe sustains an injury on a border patrol, Murkdrizzle is the only warrior who can hunt. Food is scarce as-is, and rations are put in place to ensure no one starves.

Moon 10

Pinestar's wounds are still infected, but the infection left Friendstripe's still-healing wounds. Burrowstripe, though, is perfectly healthy now.

Jollybramble and Rainbow, still quite injured, enjoy some gossip with Cherrydream. The two previous-outsiders love learning about the clans through one of their favorite pass-times.

Murkdrizzle approaches Friendstripe and asks him to be his mate. Friendstripe, obviously and excitedly, says yes.

[dragonflylady77]

This is a fic rec because OMG I'm so in love with this fic rn. It's 'billy is stuck in the upside down's x 'billy and steve get together' so basically my 2 favourite tropes.

@cherrydreamer i love you

[ihni]

@weird-an @cherrydreamer @suspiciouslackofclowns @shieldofiron @chrisbitchtree @passivenovember @grey-sides @stranger-rants @lazybakerart @ickypuppi3 @harrgrove @thatgirlwithasquid @bigdumbbambieyes

Reminder, in case you guys don't do it already

As a fandom Vet please, please back up your fanfiction. I see so many fics posted exclusively to tumblr and it scares me.

I've seen so many tumblr purges, I've seen staff delete blogs irreparably by accident, I've seen cyberbullying involving reporting a blog so many times it's taken down and all the posts are lost.

All these new baby fandom accounts who are writing tens of thousands of words of fic (in a readmore so not even reblogs work to save it if your blog is lost) and not backing it up are causing me anxiety. Please, I'm so worried for you all.