#i've written every day of November so far !!!

[cecropiacrown]

Mu Qing's long fingers find purchase at the base of Feng Xin's skull, expertly threading through his loose hair with an unrivaled gentleness, until he's nestled there comfortably. Feng Xin heaves a great big sigh, a shiver of anticipation racing up and down his spine at the feel of Mu Qing's nails scratching his scalp—every touch and breath feeling like a thousand moments shared between them as Mu Qing starts to close his hand—and with no further warning or preamble, he tugs.

It's so torturously slow and deliciously firm in a way that drives Feng Xin wild. He squeezes his fist around this handful of Feng Xin's hair and the feeling sets Feng Xin's limbs aflame. He trembles, thighs tensing as he sinks his knees into the mattress from where he is straddling Mu Qing's lap.

Mu Qing may as well have pried Feng Xin's own beating heart right from his chest.

Just as suddenly as Feng Xin's entire existence was captured in that elegant, strong hand, he is released. Mu Qing always does this: rides this balance of keeping Feng Xin on his toes without any idea of what to expect and somehow giving him exactly what it is he craves most.

Just as Feng Xin has resigned himself to stillness, Mu Qing grips him again, the pressure steady and unyielding and so perfectly achy.

Feng Xin sinks further—in both mind and body—his eyelashes fluttering as he nuzzles his nose against the dip in Mu Qing's collarbone. He traces the line of his sternum as far as he's allowed with Mu Qing holding him in place, until he can just barely make out the roundness of the underside of Mu Qing's pecs.

His lips part even as Mu Qing's grip prevents him from nuzzling any further, and he opens his eyes just enough to look up at his lover—his partner—his equal.

Mu Qing is already staring down at him, his eyes dark and ravenous as if he's devouring Feng Xin from sight alone. It thrills Feng Xin to feel so wholly coveted in this way and he's powerless to resist the moan that shakes up from his core and out of his mouth. It's a wordless plea that even he doesn't know the purpose of, until Mu Qing loosens his hold on Feng Xin just enough to let his lips make contact with his chest.

Feng Xin's eyes slip closed, his blood rushing in his ears. He slumps forward and presses an open-mouthed kiss against Mu Qing's skin—right over the heart that knows him better than he knows himself—the heart that belongs to him just as much as he belongs to it—and he smiles, feeling loved beyond what words could possibly convey.

[bookshelf-dust]

healing

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 5,445

warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??

a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333

————

November 1985

“No.”

“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?” 

Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make. 

“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes. 

She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”

The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”

Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table. 

“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”

Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around. 

“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.” 

Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment. 

It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down. 

You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro. 

Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money. 

But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.

There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way. 

Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are. 

You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?” 

He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy. 

When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”

He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up. 

“Hey. Glad your test is over?”

That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”

You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch. 

“You have work today?”

Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment. 

Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge. 

“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.” 

You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”

The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her. 

“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say. 

The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is. 

“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice. 

“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.

“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation. 

Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek. 

Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it. 

“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”

“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”

Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together. 

Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale. 

He smiles at her, and El considers that a win. 

You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door. 

He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do. 

When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do. 

Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger. 

He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side. 

“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him. 

He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him. 

“Besides what?” 

You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself. 

Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless. 

“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again. 

“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it. 

“You know what.”

“I want you to go.”

“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”

————

The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there. 

Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims. 

She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom. 

Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…” 

You and Billy. 

You and Billy Hargrove.

Sharing a room. 

Sharing a bed. 

Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall. 

“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything. 

“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”

That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”

You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?

Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?

“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”

He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”

He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them. 

“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”

You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh. 

“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”

You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that. 

“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you. 

You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”

Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether. 

“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”

You nod your head, and try to move back from him. 

Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”

You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”

Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win. 

“Really?”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back. 

“Yeah, baby.”

Baby. 

It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”. 

And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.

“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”

“Mhm. Thought so.” 

This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.

“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.

When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips. 

You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind. 

You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them. 

Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one. 

“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.” 

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.

————

Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out. 

“Right hand blue.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”

Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card. 

“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”

“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger. 

He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can. 

Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask. 

He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.” 

“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”

“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass. 

“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”

You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder. 

“Something funny over there?” Steve questions. 

You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”

His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”

Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either. 

The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing. 

It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way. 

————

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you. 

You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in. 

He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you. 

When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own. 

You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this. 

He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.

“C’mere then.”

You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”

“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”

“Billy.”

“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side. 

Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined. 

He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?” 

“Yeah.” 

Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?” 

“Yes.” 

He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.

Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before. 

He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him. 

“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.” 

You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck. 

“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break. 

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”

He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous. 

It’s just me. 

“Do they hurt at all?”

Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean. 

“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”

You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed. 

He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them. 

“Goodnight, Billy.”

He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop. 

“Goodnight, baby.”

————

When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.

Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look. 

You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in. 

Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on. 

Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction. 

You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble. 

“Sleep okay?” she asks. 

“Mhm. You?”

“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.” 

You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up. 

“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”

You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”

“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”

You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”

“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet. 

“Oh my god.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”

“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”

“Or lack thereof,” Robin says. 

“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.” 

Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.” 

He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being. 

“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”

————

Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water. 

It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down. 

It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool. 

You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water. 

“Whatcha doin’?” 

Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you. 

“That sounds nice.”

“Mhm.”

“I can go back inside, if you want.”

Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does. 

“Okay.” 

He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do. 

“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”

“I understand, Billy.” 

You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see. 

“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say. 

“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”

He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water. 

Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with. 

When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest. 

He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child. 

“You motherfucker!” 

You get him back, and he’s laughing. 

Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.

You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder. 

“Billy!”

“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water. 

You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating. 

When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so. 

“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”

You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it. 

He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them. 

He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.

Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.

It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks. 

When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.

Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.

“I’m in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” you respond.

He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat. 

“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”

“Damn right you are.”

You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you. 

“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy. 

“So much for that,” Billy says.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

————

“I’m regretting this, Billy.”

“Stop whining.”

Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this. 

“Get off.”

“No.”

“Get off, please.”

“Make me.” 

There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.

He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”

And you’d do it again. 

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“No. Shut up and take it.”

By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.

You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content. 

He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up. 

He’s never had this before.

Hell, you’ve never had this before. 

And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro. 

You’re healing him. You. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[writingdotcoffee]

The "Alt" NaNoWriMo Challenge

I'm a big fan of NaNoWriMo and the energy the event breathes into the writing community. Hundreds of thousands of people start working on their novels at the same time. Lots of people share their progress and cheer each other on. Several now-famous authors have started their best-selling novels during NaNo over the years.

That said, it's not for everyone. Writing 50,000 words per month is a serious commitment. Doing it alongside school or work is no joke. In fact, most people who sign up don't finish. According to these stats, only 1-2 out of every 10 participants complete the challenge.

I've never joined NaNoWriMo myself. I'm a slow writer, and I know that I would burn out. Instead, I set a different writing-related challenge for myself every November.

In 2018, I started reading one short story every day. It turned into a regular habit, and I ended up reading hundreds of short stories over the following few months.

Last year, I wanted to build a 30-day writing streak. In the end, I wrote for 232 days in a row. 2023 became the most productive year of my writing life by far with over 250,000 words written.

This year, I will be doing something similar, and I want to invite you to come along for the ride.

The Idea of "AltNaNo"

The idea of finishing a novel in a month seems outrageous to most people. That's what makes it so compelling. It's like standing at the foot of a snowcapped mountain with a rope and a couple of ice picks. The challenge itself is inspiring.

The AltNaNo challenge is the exact opposite. The goal is as small as possible on purpose. The focus isn't to achieve this massive feat but to squash all excuses and merely start writing.

You may not be able to write 50,000 words in a month. But almost everyone can find 15 minutes to write every day.

The Challenge

The goal is simple: Write for at least 15 minutes every day in November.

Writing 100 words and calling it a day after 15 minutes is a success.

Spending longer and writing 500 words is a success.

Wrestling with a difficult scene for 15 minutes and writing only a single sentence is a success.

Spending 15 minutes trying to write after a long day and not producing a single word is a success, too.

Be a tortoise. We all know how the story goes.

How to Join

I've set up daily challenges for the first week in Writing Analytics, if you wanted to join us there:

Day 1/30 ✅

Day 2/30 ✅

Day 3/30 ✅

Day 4/30 ✅

Day 5/30 ✅

Day 6/30 ✅

Day 7/30 ✅

I'll be posting daily updates on the blog as well.

PS: If you'd like to learn more about developing a writing habit, check out this free course I launched a few weeks ago.

[lucystark12]

what are you thinking, finn wolfhard?

everything i'm about to say aligns with my finn wolfhard is a genius agenda.

it was just made apparent to me that not only did finn wolfhard film it 2017 before season two, but he filmed his scenes as boris in the goldfinch literally DAYS before filming season three. this is extremely hard for me to conceptualize. but it also makes me think about finn wolfhard himself who obviously knows the truth about mike wheeler's sexuality. if byler is as deep seeded as we want it to be, odds are that finn knew what was up from the beginning. which makes a girl think- did he know the same about richie tozier when he first played him in 2017?

lets look at richie a bit.

richie is obviously gay. i will not be taking arguments on this. i'm reading a reddit thred right now where people are debating it and i'm like- are you kidding me. but he wasn't gay in the source material. stephen king has stated as much in a vanity fair article. though he calls andy muscetti's choice "genius" (which it is, btw), he makes it clear that it wasn't his intention. it's explicitly clear in it chapter 2, and being wired like a byler shipper, i was able to suss it out in the first movie, but was that andy muscetti's intention to begin with?

there are many ways this change can be interpreted. assuming that it wasn't something that was explicitly written into the original character description for richie in the first movie, you could see this as something that was put in as a sign of the times, a statement if you will. it chapter one was written in 2015-2016 while we were still under obama's presidency, one that saw drastic improvements for the quality of life of a gay person in america. it chapter two was written during trump's presidency and could have been trying to brand itself as a statement of sorts. i only say this because as far as i can find (and PLEASE tell me if i'm wrong) there wasn't nearly as much evidence hinting at richie's sexuality in the first movie as there is for mike or will to use a relevant example.

the idea that finn wolfhard could have gone straight from it filming (summer of 2016) to stranger things filming (early november 2016) just having played a character who he knows was in the closet and in love with his best friend in the 80s could open up new interpretation to mke in season two. oddly, the reason i bring this up is because richie tozier to me is the mirror image of a kid i was friends with in middle school. they acted the same, they even weirdly looked and dressed the same. the only time i've ever made the comparison between middle school kid and mike wheeler was during season two, specifically in the scene where max leaves them the note, which leads me to believe that he could have carried other things over from other aspects of the it production.

season two isn't what really concerns me though. i'm looking more at season three. the goldfinch only moved to production in albuquerque in april of 2018, which is obviously where finn wolfhard filmed all of his scenes. however, stranger things 3 started production on april 23rd, 2018, which means there might have even been crossover between finn's shooting dates if not at least a very short gap of time between them. it chapter 2 was filmed that same summer likely with some of it's own crossover with stranger things three dates. finn wolfhard's lack of scenes in the second movie are probably what made this possible, but the scenes that he did have tackled very delicate topics that had to be handled with care. most actors get their scripts for minor roles like this a few weeks out from filming, which means that finn could have had his scripts for it chapter 2 that very explicitly make it clear that he's gay during filming for stranger things 3.

so here he is with one gay character right before season 3 and one right after. he knows how to handle these things, which means that every move he's making, especially in season three, is most likely intentional, especially if he knows this far in advance about mike's sexuality. i think it's totally feasible that he does. i'm fifteen and i understand what was happening between byler during the fight scene, finn was sixteen and, being a part of this show, probably understood what was going on too even if he wasn't outright told. doing justice to a season like this when he was also having to figure out scenes like the boreo taxi scene or the arcade scene with henry bower's cousin or r + e was probably at the forefront of his mind.

in conclusion, i just have one question:

what does this mean, finn wolfhard?

[kinardsevan]

BuckTommy/911 fic masterlist

as promised, here is your master list for everything I've written so far (and will continue to update as it changes):

(Divide added because this is getting kinda long now)

UPDATE: UNDER CONSTRUCTION - (this list is getting fairly long, so it may grow in to separate pages as I work on it in the coming days/weeks)

The Song Lyric Series:

Just as the title suggests, these have mostly been lyrically driven. The intention is for them to remain looser than a story, but so far it's been the same plot. (subject to change)

what if there's a little boy that needs a safe place :

Chapters: 1 Rating: M Warnings: n/a

“I’m sorry Evan,” Tommy stated genuinely as he watched Evan drop his towel and then redress. “I honestly don’t know what to say.” Evan huffed, unable to hold all the feelings in any longer. Everything felt so tight—his chest, his throat, his stomach. He couldn’t keep it all buried inside against Tommy’s lack of an answer. OR. The one in which Evan is not okay with a drunk rando flirting with his very beasty, very sexy boyfriend and it leads to professions of love.

they all led me to him (he's one of the good ones:

“I might’ve mentioned fucking you properly earlier this evening,” Tommy says, and even in the midst of wanting the older man to tear his body apart, Evan knows that this moment is as serious for Tommy as it was for Evan earlier. “Yeah,” Buck rasps, unable to stop himself from grinding his hips against Tommy. “Please do so.” “I’m not going to,” Tommy replies softly. OR. Tommy wants Evan to understand just how in love with him he is. Chapters: 1 Rating: E Warnings: n/a

i'll be here (and you can lay by my side) :

Chapters: 2/? Rating: E Warnings: graphic depictions of violence

When Tommy has to look back on this weekend in the years that come to pass, he won’t have the words to express how things went from so right, to so wrong. He’ll struggle to even find a way to comprehend the trauma inflicted by having his soul shredded right in front of his face and absolutely unable to prevent it. And at its worst, he won’t even have words to explain it all. OR. part 3.

Multi-Chapter Stories

your arson's match, my somber smile (the love of my life): Chapters: 4/? Rating: n/a (subject to change) Warnings: graphic depictions of violence

In that moment, the nanosecond in which he had crystal clarity, only one thing mattered to him. As his feet finally slipped out from under him, just before the warped metal came swinging down at another angle, he looked Bobby in the eyes. “Tell Tommy I love him.” And then the world was black.

guilty as sin (i choose you and me, religiously): Chapters: 1/2 Rating: T Warnings: n/a

Buck and Tommy's first kiss, as told through Tommy's POV.

Never Til Now (Rolling Up The Welcome Mat) Chapters: 5/? Rating: M (for themes) Warnings: n/a

"Maybe there’s something about tangibility, about holding the real thing versus just the idea of it, but it cracks something open in him that hasn’t existed in a long time. Because all of a sudden, he can’t imagine not having this. Not getting to see Evan like this, every day. And it’s barely been thirty seconds." - In March 2025, with plans to propose, Tommy realizes Evan wants kids. the problem is, Tommy doesn't. In November of the same year, in a happenstance exchange, he meets their baby girl. (OR, we take a trip through a dual timeline in which the idea and reality of having kids drives Evan and Tommy apart, and then brings them back together.)

The Devil Doesn't Bargain Chapters: 12/? Rating: E Warnings: Rape/Non-con, Self-harm, Suicidality (discussed and attempted), PTSD, Anxiety, ALL THE TRIGGER WARNINGS

Tommy Kinard lived a whole life before he walked into Evan Buckley's life, and it's not one that he's offered up much of so far. Until Evan starts asking questions. Trigger warnings for sexual assault, abuse, and so forth.

you're the only one (who ever gave a damn) Chapters 2/2 Rating: M (for themes and mild sexual content) Warnings: Rape/Non-con

“I um… I don’t know,” he admits softly. “C’mon, Tommy,” Eddie replies. “No, not like that,” Tommy says, looking back up at Eddie. “Not like I don’t have a real excuse. I don’t know like…like I really don’t know, Eddie. I was drunk. I remember being at the bar with you and the other guys, and joking about you and Evan sparring the next time we were going to train, and then…” He pauses, shakes his head. “Nothing. I woke up in a house I didn’t recognize.” Eddie stares at him, coffee cup in hand and mouth slack, and Tommy waits for the judgment to come. He’s fully prepared for Eddie to tell him what a dick he his for going home with some other guy and having drunken sex. But Eddie doesn’t speak. Eventually, he’s quiet so long that it makes Tommy uncomfortable. “Look, I know you’re over there judging me-..” Eddie blinks a few times, shaking out of his reverie as he lowers his coffee mug to the counter. “Tommy, man, that’s not cheating,” he states matter-of-factly.

a set of empty bones chapters: 9/? rating: E warnings: rape/non-con, graphic depictions of violence

“You’re not even paying attention right now,” he growls. “Look, Eddie,” Evan tries, lifting his hands up in surrender. Eddie’s eyes trail from his eyes down to his lips, his chest, and then back up at him, and Evan doesn’t like the way it feels. Something about the entire moment feels uncomfortable to him. Eddie sets the bowl on the counter and puts his hands on Evan’s ribs, pushing him back towards the fridge. “Eddie, man, what’re you doing,” Evan stammers nervously. BTHB: "you can scream all you want", lacerations, betrayal

Minis:

the rhythm of your heartbeat: Evan has night-terrors. Tommy has to contend with them.

you are the reason: post 709 buck/bobby conversation in which Buck makes it to Tommy's.

Connecting: 709 deleted scene. Evan is getting dressed before the medal ceremony, and Tommy's pretty sure he's going to make them late.

oceans deep, rivers wide: Evan has a realization after a work incident. Tommy concurs. burn it to the ground: Tommy knew the first time he kissed Evan Buckley he was burning his whole life to the ground.

for a thousand years (and a thousand more): In which Tommy tells Evan what it was like falling in love with him. 30 Day Fluff Challenge: Concept list found here

Prompt Minis: here

Others/Oneshots:

something stronger than me (i can hardly stand up, i can hardly breathe): Chapters: 1/1 Rating: E (for language) Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, TW: Self-harm, TW: Suicidal ideation

It had been years since he’d been down this low. At least, that’s how he’d been presenting it to others. But in the darkness of his apartment, where his boyfriend couldn’t see his legs because their schedules were conveniently not aligning ever since Gerrard’s arrival…his thighs were coated in fresh wounds.

The Saboteur: Chapters: 1/1 Rating: M (for language) Warnings: TW: homophobic language, TW: harrassment

Five times Tommy Kinard is faced with having to file a complaint against Vincent Gerrard, following his reinstatement at the 118.

take me to the other side Chapters: 1/1 Rating: E (for themes) Warnings: n/a

“So what’s on your mind,” Tommy asks him. “Are you imagining a specific scene? Or a particular want you’re thinking about?” “Not a scene, necessarily,” Evan says, twiddling his thumbs. He’s struggling to piece together the words in the right way to convey what he’s actually wanting. “Okay,” Tommy says, accepting his answer. When Evan doesn’t speak again right away, Tommy prompts him. “I want…?” Evan gulps. “I want…I-i want you to t-t-tie me up."

you're the only one (in the dark, i see) Chapters: 1/1 Ratings: T (for language) Warnings: n/a

He closes the door behind Tommy, his hand still resting on the handle for a beat as he stares at Tommy’s back. He wants answers, and if this is his last chance to get them, then God damn it, Evan’s going to get them. - Tommy breaks up with Evan after Gerrard's return to the 118. Evan is not okay with this decision.

BuckTommy Week 2024

Day 1, Date Night: Rating: General

clay wheels and no ghosting: Tommy and Evan attempt ceramics and talk about things.

Day 2, Emergency: Rating: M (suggestive language)

Under the Weather: Evan and Tommy fall ill

Day 3, Bad Weather Days Rating: M (Graphic Depictions of Violence) Chapters: 2/2 its hurting (but it ain't dead) : Tommy is pissed. No one called him to ask him if he was cool with this idea, and it really doesn’t matter to him in the moment that they didn’t actually have to. It was Evan. They had allowed his boyfriend to put himself in the line of fire without bothering to even ask if that was something he was alright with. He wasn’t even forewarned; just showed up to a scene where they’d been asked to send extra support in plain clothes. But if he’d known…oh, if he’d known…

[apparentlynotreallyfinnish]

I haven't written much in a few years. And definitely not consistently. It's been something I've struggled with a lot. I want to write. I love it and I miss it, but due to life and mental health it just hasn't been happening.

Last year, I was thinking about doing nanowrimo to get myself in gear again. I immediately gave up. It was just too much. I tend to do that whole thing where it's all or nothing. I didn't write enough the first day and couldnt catch up the next and soon, everything was ruined.

This year I wasn't planning on acknowledging November in any special way. But then the lovely people in the FAW discord decided to do wamaucmo (write as much as u can month) instead of nanowrimo and I found myself intrigued.

"As much as you can" doesn't necessarily have to mean a lot. Maybe some days as much as I can is one sentence. That's still more than I've done in months! I decided to try.

Now I've written for three days in a row. Every day of this month (so far) I've opened up Scrivener and managed to put words on a page! It's not many words. And it's definitely not good words (I'm so rusty it hurts). But I am writing. And it feels so fucking good.

[ponyregrets]

I wanted to write about Buck and Eddie going in the ocean and I'd written most of it before I thought to check what the weather in LA is actually like right now (look, I'm in New England, I just think of it as Warm down there, okay?) and I decided to go with it anyway. as @frightfullytreeish said, get chilly, idiots

(806 coda, 1900 words, also on AO3)

"Hey, what brings you joy?"

Eddie is expecting some waffling in Buck's response. Maybe some suspicion. It's a weird thing to ask, obviously. Joy isn't a word he uses much, isn't a go-to. But even if what makes you happy is a more normal question, it's not right. He needs something deeper.

And of course there's the Tommy of it all. Buck hasn't exactly been mourning or anything, but he's obviously down. It wouldn't be unreasonable for him to say that nothing is bringing him joy at the moment. It's not a particularly joyful time.

But Buck doesn't hesitate, doesn't question. He just says, "The ocean," and doesn't even ask why Eddie wants to know.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I never saw it until I left Hershey. We never went to the beach or anything when I was a kid. The first time I saw it, I fell in love. It was the best thing I'd ever seen."

"I didn't know that."

Buck shrugs. "Doesn't come up that much. And I guess I always think I'll get used to it? But it's amazing every time. I never get tired of it."

He should have known, right? They've gone to the ocean together. Or--well, they've had calls near the water before. That guy who got struck by lightning. The shark.

The tsunami.

But they've never just gone. Buck has never tagged along with him and Chris on any of their trips, and he and Buck have no reason to just take a beach day together.

Joy doesn't need a reason, right? He can just do it.

"Cool," says Eddie. "Let's go."

"Now?"

"What else are we doing?"

It hasn't been a problem, exactly, their lack of things to do. It's just kind of new, the way they're hanging out in the last week. Usually they have Chris, or girlfriends, or boyfriends. They have some reason to stop being together, and now they just…don't. And Buck just keeps on coming over, hanging out on Eddie's couch, in his space, like he can't bear to be in his loft now that Tommy isn't there.

Or something.

"You got some trunks I can borrow?" Buck asks.

"Are we swimming?"

"You want to go to the beach and not swim?"

Most of the time, that's what he does. When Chris was younger he'd get in the water, but the last few years it's been Eddie supervising while Chris does his own thing far enough away that it doesn't look like he's being supervised.

But Chris is in Texas. And, yeah, it's November, but Buck doesn't seem to care.

"I'll see what I've got," he says and finds he has two pairs of trunks in good enough shape that he's not embarrassed about anyone wearing them. Small miracles.

He throws the bigger pair to Buck and then goes to change in his bedroom. Buck will be doing the same thing in the bathroom, not for the first time, but he's never been changing into Eddie's trunks before. Did Ana ever wear anything of his? Marisol didn't. Buck might be the first person since Shannon.

As long as they fit, it's fine. Not a big deal at all.

They take Buck's car, the podcast he's listening to about the issues with the keto diet resuming as soon as he turns it on. Hen has gotten tired of explaining why his diets might be a problem herself and is outsourcing, which Eddie can't blame her for, but he doesn't find the resources nearly as interesting as Buck does. He already knows he doesn't want to do keto.

"You don't need to cheer me up, you know," Buck says, about halfway to the beach, without bothering to pause the keto thing. "I'm doing okay."

"I know."

It's mostly true. Buck has seemed fine with the breakup. Not happy, but not heartbroken either. He's been a little quiet about it, more so than Eddie was expecting. All he'll say is that Tommy initiated it, but he understands why.

"I'm trying to be happier," he tells Buck. "For me."

"Is that a thing you can try? Like, aren't you just happy or not?"

"If that was true, the ocean wouldn't bring you joy, right?" He lets out a breath, his stomach tied in inconvenient knots. "Someone pointed out that when I had the choice between something that would make me happy and something that wouldn't, I picked the one that wouldn't."

Buck mulls this over for a long moment. "I always figured that's because you're more mature than I am." It's only half a joke.

"Yeah, that's one way of looking at it." His breath shudders more this time. "Anyway. I'm not doing that anymore. I'm looking for things that bring me joy. So I figure if the ocean does that for you, maybe it'll do it for me, too."

"I hope so."

They set up like Eddie would with Chris, towels and belongings planted in the sand, the only difference that they left their phones in the car since no one is staying behind. He keeps his back turned as they shed the layers of clothing they have on, but when Buck hands him a tube of sunscreen, he has no choice but to stare at the expanse of bare back. The motions are familiar, nothing he hasn't done a thousand times for Chris, but…

Well, he's never done it for Buck.

Buck makes him turn around so he can return the favor, a much less familiar process. These days, he usually leaves his shirt on.

But he knows Buck's hands. They're familiar, all heat and callus. Careful, incongruously so. Buck looks like he's built clumsy, someone who can't do delicate work, and maybe he knows that too. Like happiness to Eddie, precision doesn't come naturally to Buck. He has to put the effort in, and he does. Eddie's skin lights up with every stroke of Buck's hands, so he's sure that Buck gets every inch.

And then he keeps going a little longer. Just to make sure.

"Okay," says Buck at last. "We're good to go."

Eddie is expecting Buck to run into the ocean like an overgrown puppy, all bright enthusiasm despite the chill, but he's cautious. He dips a toe in, then his foot, then the other. He walks in slowly enough that Eddie overtakes him, even though he's not running. He's just eager.

"The first time I went into the ocean, I was in Virginia Beach," Buck explains without making Eddie ask. "It was May, and I thought it would be warm enough, it was a hot May. But I ran in and it was so cold. I ran right back out."

"Goes to show," says Eddie.

"What, exactly? I know how the water's going to be today. It's cold."

The water is probably around the same temperature as it was in Virginia Beach in May. Eddie shivers, but doesn't stop, not until he's up past his knees. He smiles at Buck, who's still just letting the waves lap his toes. "Yeah, it's nice anyway. It's hot out."

"Not hot enough."

"It's fine."

He's in up to his ankles now. "You're not getting the joy, though."

"I am."

"Eddie."

"I'm getting used to it."

"You're not supposed to get used to it. You're supposed to be be making choices that make you happy right away, right?"

"I am happy," he says again, and it doesn't feel like a lie. "It's nice, there's no one else here. And it's not cold enough for us to get hypothermia."

"Are you sure this isn't just for me?" Eddie cocks his head, and Buck clarifies, "For my benefit."

"Should it be?"

Buck kicks at a wave. "He said I wasn't ready. Tommy. That's why he broke up with me. I asked him to move in with me, and he broke it off instead."

"So he's an idiot," Eddie says. "Always knew there was a chance, but I was hoping I was wrong."

"Is he, though? Was he wrong? I didn't really want him to move in. I just wanted…" He huffs. "I want to be done with this, you know? I'm ready to be with someone. And I think it could have been him."

It's not like getting shot, or even like getting punched. It's like a bullet or a fist going past him, close enough to graze the skin. Close enough that he's thinking about how much it could have hurt.

"But that's shitty, right? Like, how long could I have kepg going just because I didn't have a reason to break up with him? He was…fun. I liked him. I liked feeling like I'd figured it out. Like that was the last piece. I like guys too."

"Maybe it was," Eddie says. The water is lapping against his legs, the surf gentle. He's used to the temperature where he's submerged, but it's only halfway up his thighs. Every time the droplets splash higher, there's this shock of sharp little pinpricks.

He's so fucking happy.

"Maybe that was the last piece, but that doesn't mean Tommy is it. Maybe you're ready, but you're not ready for him."

"I'm just tired," says Buck. "I'm tired of waiting for someone to want me enough, you know? I'm ready to settle."

"You shouldn't," says Eddie. "You shouldn't be with someone just to be with anyone."

"You can build it," he argues, like Chris angling for a later bedtime or more video games before homework. "Love. Like you and Shannon did."

Nausea roils his stomach. "We didn't. It wasn't like that."

"I know it wasn't perfect, but you two were working on it. You were going to--"

"She wanted a divorce. Before she died. That was one of the last things she told me. We weren't going to have another kid, we weren't going to get married again, we weren't going to be together." He's not crying, but in that way where he is very aware that he's not crying. Where Not Crying is currently defining his existence. "I think we could have been friends," he says. "And maybe we could have figured it out. Been together again, made it good. That's what I told myself. And that's…easy."

"Easy?" Buck asks, in a small voice. Like Eddie is telling him a fairy tale he wishes could be true.

Which Eddie is, actually.

"If she was the love of my life and I lost her, then that was it. No one else would ever measure up. Nothing else could ever be as good. It was never going to work."

"But she wasn't?"

"Maybe she was. Or maybe--" He's Not Crying. "Maybe I don't just get one love, or even just one life. Maybe it doesn't have to be about finding her again. It can be about finding someone new. Someone who…"

He chokes then, the words dying in his throat. Buck is dazzling in the sunlight, his eyes as blue as the sea, his expression open, waiting. His whole existence focused on Eddie.

Eddie would marry him today. Eddie would marry him tomorrow, Eddie would marry him yesterday. Eddie would tie himself to Buck in any way Buck could think of, in every way, with wills, with contracts, with mortgages, with handcuffs, with string.

"Someone who brings me joy," he finishes.

"Joy," says Buck. He looks over the horizon, smiles, shakes his head.

Eddie's chest is too small and too big. He's never had so much in him.

"I've never had that," he muses. "Someone who makes me feel like the ocean."

"Like the ocean," Eddie says. "Yeah."

[bellaxgiornata]

October Update Information

Tuna-Tober starts next week and I figured I'd give a bit of information about what to expect from me during this next month. It's fitting this writing challenge happens during my birthday month and after reaching over three thousand of y'all lovely people following me! I have absolutely no idea how we got here and I want to celebrate, but I am far too busy to do a follower event specifically. BUT I'll be dropping quite a few fics throughout the month of October for Tuna-Tober so we can pretend it's serving multiple celebration purposes! It's like my birthday gifts to all of you!

I'll be giving a bit of important information below the cut, but you can keep up with my updates for this event in my Tuna-Tober Masterlist.

I'm going to try to schedule posts for the days I have a fic to drop on tumblr (which I've never done and hope it works) in order to update on the correct dates. Though for those of my AO3 readers, you'll either have to read the fics here or wait because I will most likely not be able to get those posted on the correct days. I'm far too busy to actually sit down and update almost daily, unfortunately (and I don't think AO3 let's you schedule posts).

I will not be updating any of my series' during the month of October. I'll be posting far too much already (currently seven pieces completed but I'm aiming to get a couple more written/finished that you see on the masterlist and some you don't) But I should hopefully resume those stories in November.

I will try to use the character one shot tag lists for each of my Tuna-Tober updates, but I will not be adding to it during the time since I'll be scheduling posts ahead of time. I'm hoping tumblr will properly tag, but if not, the days I have fics going up will be listed in the event masterlist. You can always go there to see what updates are out and when more are coming.

I love all feedback and will absolutely try my best to respond to everyone, but I will probably be slow since I'm posting more fics in a month than I've probably posted...like ever. But I absolutely read every comment and reblog when I see them and I appreciate each one ❤

With that, my first fic should drop on October 1st! 🙃

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Kaiju Week in Review (November 26-December 2, 2023)

I wasn't over the moon when Toho announced that Takashi Yamazaki's Blockbuster Monster Movie was in fact the next Godzilla film. I had seen a few of his works—none bad, but none spectacular either. Well, I've set my sights on watching the rest in the new year, because Godzilla Minus One is an unqualified masterpiece. A tagline from the original Godzilla, King of the Monsters! comes to mind (as it often does when you're me): "Mightiest melodrama of them all!" A lot of the post-Showa films suffer from an abundance of characters who just spout exposition and look at monitors; here, almost everyone in the small cast gets at least one close encounter with Godzilla, and the monster's backstory is conveyed with extreme efficiency. This tale of a war veteran trying to rebuild his life in the ruins of Tokyo, stumbling into a family, finding fulfillment in blowing up leftover mines, and haunted by what he perceives as his cowardice in combat, would have been plenty compelling without Godzilla.

Since it does have Godzilla, it's high on my list of the best movies of the year, and I only need one viewing to call it one of the best installments in the almost-70-year-old series. Yamazaki patiently waited some 15 years after Always: Sunset on Third Street 2 for his shot at a Godzilla feature. You certainly get the sense, watching one of the most brutal, pissed-off incarnations of the monster ever to grace the screen, that he spent every day of it in preparation. Watch it often while it's still in theaters, and watch it big.

Godzilla Minus One will gross about $10 million in its U.S. opening "weekend", a third-place finish that beat expectations. For context, Godzilla 2000, the last Toho Godzilla film to receive a wide release here, made about $10 million during its entire theatrical run here. Ticket prices were cheaper then, of course, and Minus One was helped along further by almost half of attendees going to premium-format screenings. Conversely, it had to overcome Americans' subtitle phobia, and the first weekend of December is usually a slow one. I was pessimistic at the outset, but now I expect larger theaters to carry the film into the new year, especially with near-universal raves from critics and audiences.

Yes, a third section for Godzilla Minus One; it's well-deserved, I promise. MyKaiju is risking life and limb by hosting an English translation of the film's novelization, written by Takashi Yamazaki himself. It appears to be at least partially machine-translated, but the Japanese text is included for comparison. Haven't read it yet, as I want to see the film a second time first, but quite a breakthrough given how mysterious this sort of thing usually is.

Monarch: Legacy of Monsters could never hope to compare with the opening of a stellar new Godzilla film; unfortunately, I also thought this week's episode was the weakest so far. It's bookended by Frost-Vark action, but the rest just drags. All's forgiven if the teacher and the hacker smooch though.

Toho and Legendary used to let each other's live-action Godzilla movies breathe; now the U.S. opening weekend of one is coinciding with the opening marketing push of the other. IGN released a trio of pics from Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire, showing Kong with his axe; Dr. Andrews, Jia, and Trapper (Dan Stevens's character) in uniform; and Godzilla "evolving into a powerful new form." The same article included an interview with director Adam Wingard. Naturally, he didn't give away much... besides the return of Doug.

Earlier in the week, Legendary put out a trio of posters featuring Godzilla, Kong, and the film's antagonist, now christened Skar King. The taglines ("Unite" for our heroes, "Bow to Your King" for SK) sound like kaiju campaign slogans. Makes me wonder if, like Godzilla vs. Megalon before it, the movie will improbably capitalize on the presidential election next year. To steal a joke from Titanollante: Godzilla/Kong unity ticket? They'd have my vote.

Godzilla's new form, meanwhile, has already been spoiled by a T-shirt on Legendary's own site and some dire-looking Playmates figures. It makes sense that Wingard would want to have his own spin on the character after keeping the design from Godzilla: King of the Monsters for Godzilla vs. Kong. Hard to cast judgment without seeing the real design in full, but there's one particular detail I really like.

The film also has a booth at CCXP in Brazil, with a panel later today, so I think a trailer is incoming (the main reason I hammered out this whole post so quickly).

I missed this one last week: Tsuburaya announced an anime project called Ultraman: DARKNESS HEELS. The DARKNESS HEELS branding has been around for a while, spotlighting prominent evil Ultras—and, of course, Jugglus Juggler. No details on the anime yet, but if the Juggleman's there, so am I.

The big toy reveal this weekend was Super7's ULTIMATES! MaiGoji figure. Previous Godzilla figures from this line haven't lived up to the official photos, but hope springs eternal. It's $85 (much less than the MonsterArts); preorders started Friday. Other highlights: a Super7 ReAction figure of the original Godzilla's skeleton, which comes with a little Oxygen Destroyer, and a plush Mothra from Surreal Entertainment that can flip to imago form to a neck pillow-shaped larva.

[endcant]

Crossposted from my Tumblr Community: The Trans South

--

The Trans South Monthly Bulletin Board

Our pinned post for the month of November, 2024.

comment anything you want to add, and i'll add what fits in this month's post. i'll be making a new post each month, so you may need to resubmit any links that are applicable for multiple months. check the comments for anything i missed!

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

the bright side:

the fact that you're alive is good news to me!

"Good News: Some States Passed Protections for Abortion Access, Marriage Equality, and More" | Here is an article with some upshots and progress from the 2024 election.

"Lipstick Lounge Owners Break Ground on Sports Bar Venture" | "The Lipstick Lounge is one of only 32 open and operating lesbian bars in the United States registered with the Lesbian Bar Project."

"Florida's LGBTQ+ community defies queer repression with advocacy & preservation" | "I will not paint a desolate picture of the state. And, there still is hope."

"The Candy Shop: Columbia SC Rallies to Honor Landmark Black Gay Bar" | "Researchers and preservationists at Historic Columbia have joined the struggle to correct the way the club has thus far been "written over" in the historical record."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

TTS crowdfunds:

help fellow transgender people in your community today!

Catgirl-smash needs help with bills and moving!

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

fun links:

things that gave me dopamine and kept me going

Read "When We Call a Place Home" by Chinelo Onwualu | "A utopian tale of historical memory, the dangers of forgetting…and vampires."

WEBFISHING | "WEBFISHING is a multiplayer chatroom-focused fishing game! Relax and fish (on the web!)"

Memory Games | I've been using these memory games to try to heal my brain a bit from long covid brain fog.

Mahogany's List of Black Banned Books | Read some books they don't want you to read!

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

useful links:

interesting resources and organizations you should know about

Trans Reads | "Trans Reads is an ambitious project created by and for transgender people to openly access writing related to our communities."

Southerners On New Ground | "SONG is a home for LGBTQ liberation across all lines of race, class, abilities, age, culture, gender, and sexuality in the South".

Winners from The LGBTQ+ Victory Fund | Check out this list of winning LGBTQ+ candidates for various political offices from around the U.S. who were supported by the Victory Fund.

Lambda Legal's Help Desk | "a resource for the community we serve in providing general legal information and resources relating to discrimination based on sexual orientation, gender identity and gender expression, and HIV status."

Every State has a DD Council! | Did you know that it's federal law that every state must have a council whose job it is to hold their state accountable on behalf of developmentally disabled people?

Help the Palestinian People with a Click | "Your free click generates donations from our sponsors. Remember, you may click once a day, every day. Donations raised will go to UNRWA to assist the Palestinian refugees."

--

If you're an adult trans person in the U.S. South, join my Tumblr Community: The Trans South.

If you're a teen trans person in the U.S. South and you create a youth community for trans southerners, let me know and I'll link to it in The Trans South.

[simonnebethel]

Writeblr Introduction

Just learned what a writeblr intro is so I'm gonna make one before I go to bed lol

I've already done something like this a few days ago but that was when I had no clue what I was doing lmao, so might as well make a more in depth one

About me:

20, she/her, bi

American

I write mostly fantasy and urban fantasy, and honestly i dont think i've ever written a story that was non-fantasy lol

Started writing when I was 10, but it was mostly Warrior Cats fanfiction on Wattpad lol. I went through a writing slump for most of highschool but last year I decided to get back into it since I'm not doing anything else lol

I like to read fantasy and classic lit, also anything with vampires. I also have a soft spot for slowburn romances where the main characters dont kiss until, like, the 4th book heehee

In love with anything gothic, vampire, and wlw 👩‍❤‍💋‍👩

I think one of my more niche interests is any early 2000s fantasy/sci-fi movie with a nu-metal/rock/alternative soundtrack like Queen of the Damned and The Crow. They are just...*chefs kiss*

My current stories:

A Chant for Blood (Formerly known as Account of Calamity)

Account of Calamity is a gothic victorian fantasy about a Grand Marshal, Karliah Helisende, and a blood-drinking fiend, Yorick Gwynplaine, who work together to investigate the mysterious portals that spawn dangerous creatures into the city of Isarnan, all the while Karliah is being haunted by the mysterious ancient temple that watches over her every move.

I'm currently working on the second draft, and I may start looking for beta readers once I'm finished, although I know I'm not far from finished with this novel. I also plan to make it a 4 or 5 book series, and slowly add a slowburn romance.

12/30/24 - Second draft has been finished!!

Looking for beta readers! Look here!

Our Demonic Hearts - The Craven Pact Series #1

Our Demonic Hearts is a urban fantasy about a cambion woman, Ana Kravens, haunted by her past. Taking place in a small Mississippi town, a man she went through a traumatic incident with, Beau Motloe, shows up on her doorstep one day with a deal; help him find his missing mother, and he'll give back the memories she lost during the traumatic incident. Her father, a demonic creature of unknown origin, wants nothing more than the Motloes dead, claiming that they were the very reason his daughter was almost killed 6 years ago. Ana goes against her father's wishes and accepts Beau's deal, suspecting that her father isn't telling the whole truth about that fatal night.

It is completed and available on Wattpad and Royal Road!! It was just a small project I had done for Nanowrimo, and has been edited at least once before being published. However, I plan to make it a trilogy and maybe have some spin-offs. This story is fairly new, but most of the characters are at least 5 years old and I love them very much <3

What I plan for 2024:

Finish the second draft of A Chant for Blood and look for beta readers(In the beta reader phase!) ✅

Start the second novel of The Craven Pact Series(Outline complete)

Write a short story/novella or two taking place within the A Chant for Blood universe. My brain is currently exploding with ideas rn ✅

Write a short story about Ana Kraven's mom and how she met Marchosias, Ana's father.

Plan something for Nano?? Idk where I'll be in November lol (Finish a project I started in february, which is To Hear a Lovebird!)

I'm interested in following other writers and reading everybody's stories! I would also be interested in a beta read/beta swap ^^

Other sites I'm on:

Wattpad: LillithOfBees

Royal Road: SimonneBethel

18+ Writing discord!!!

[yellowloid]

ten people i'd like to get to know better

i was tagged by @uhbasicallyjustmilex @arcticshadowturtles @rearviewghost - thank you so much!! 💖

last song: girl, so confusing - charli xcx feat. lorde

favourite colour: purple and black 💜🖤 all shades of purple are just my favourite but especially lilac which i made my whole personality ever since i was like 13

last book: currently reading normal people by sally rooney, i'm really enjoying it so far! can't wait to catch up with the tv show, i've heard very positive reviews of it + i love daisy edgar jones' and paul mescal's on-screen chemistry, plus i miss ireland sm and the book is continuously feeding my dublin blues </3

last movie: i honestly can't remember bc i don't watch that many movies (i'm more of a tv show girlie) but it was probably visconti's 'death in venice' after reading the short novel - thomas mann is one of my favourite authors and the movie perfectly captured the languidly eerie atmosphere of the book

last tv show: tim burton's wednesday! i purposely avoided it back when it came out bc everyone was talking about it and you know how it goes, the more people talk about smth the less i feel the desire to watch it lmao. but then last month i was in the mood for smth with a spooky autumn vibe that was also kinda light, so i decided to give it a chance and it was a really nice surprise! i wasn't expecting to like it so much but i found it really entertaining, i loved jenna ortega's portrayal of wednesday and i also found her and enid so cute (GOD i hope they make wenclair canon in s2 it'd be so good)

sweet/spicy/savoury: savoury all the way, but after that then also a sweet treat

relationship status: blessedly single and also the dating scene is so atrocious i'd rather put my hand in a blender than open tinder ever again

last thing i googled: t.s. eliot's poem 'the naming of cats' because i remembered i had it saved somewhere but couldn't find it so i just looked it up - it's so silly i love it

current obsessions:

am/tlsp as always - i  finished writing a very long chapter of my wip the other day and even tho it was very angsty i'm so happy i finally finished it because i'd been bogged down in a slump for quite some time and i'm just so glad i managed to pull myself out of it. just a couple of chapters left and then the fic will be completely written :')

taylor swift as always - last couple of days i've been losing my mind over her new surprise songs outfits specifically. i see. i see it all so clearly

garrett and andrew (my favourite youtubers along with dan and phil): i LOVED the new spooky video and ugh every single one of their videos has the power to become a comfort video to me

bungo stray dogs and soukoku in particular - i watched the anime for the first time back at the start of 2020, then i rewatched it around this time last year and i'm afraid ever since then it's been living in my mind rent free, especially these two chaotic bitter exes </3 i'm on volume 18 of the manga but i need to catch up asap!!

looking forward to: having dinner with my friends on saturday night, the new bsd chapter at the start of november, christmas time, planning another trip with the girls <3 also having a break (isn't going to happen soon unfortunately) and getting some quality SLEEP i'm so tired

tagging: @alexturner @mrschwartz @reconciledviolence729 @hesterias @partynthem @depressedraisin @glorious-blackout @1llusionmachine and anyone who wants to do it 🫶

[thisapplepielife]

My Current Masterlist:

Hi! I'm Apple. I currently write for Stranger Things. The majority is Steddie, but I do branch out from time to time, and you'll probably also notice some Gareth-centric fics popping up from me these days.

Last updated: November 1, 2024.

Quick Navigation:

my ao3 | thisapplepielife: short fics | steddie micro | corroded coffin fest | steddie song fics | spicy six | sub eddie week | steddie week | a stranger summer | steddie angsty august | steddie smutty september | steddie spooktober | steddiemas | steddie holiday drabbles

My hashtag #thisapplepielife: short fics gathers nearly every fic I post on Tumblr in one place. Short is relative, of course, but I've ended up using it for anything that isn't a long fic or series. There's gotta be 150+ standalone fics in there by now. With a lot of them not on ao3 at this time.

I also run the event blog @corrodedcoffinfest - if you'd like more Corroded Coffin fan works in your life, come join us!

Author's Self-Rec Fic: Tuesday's Gone With the Wind - this is my favorite thing I've written. So, if you wanna know what I'd tell you to read? It's that one.

(Some of my work is rated E, so please be mindful of ratings.)

I found myself way overdue for an updated masterlist, as my original one looks like I've only written three fics. So, here we go:

I've currently got three long fics all complete and ready to read in full. Tuesday's Gone With the Wind is my personal favorite, Take the Money and Run is my most popular and All Across the Universe is my most recent!

Tuesday's Gone With the Wind, Complete

Steddie, E, 184K, 9/9 Chapters (Read on AO3) Corroded Coffin's leased plane went down on June 13th, 1995 in the woods of Louisiana. Ten people on board died. Eddie Munson survived. Before he survived, he really lived.

Take the Money and Run, Complete

Steddie, E, 144K, 22/22 Chapters (Read on AO3) “Rules. Like, there’ll be no eating in my car. You’re not driving my car. No heavy metal,” Steve keeps listing, “you’re not picking up women and fucking them in m-” “I'll try to control myself,” Eddie interrupts with a quip, a smirk. Fucking girls in Steve’s car, or anywhere else for that matter, isn’t going to be an issue, unless something pretty fundamental shifts in him. Steve continues, completely ignoring Eddie, “You’ll wipe your feet. You’re not dragging dirt all over my car. No hitchhikers. No cutesy road games. No smoking in the car. I’m not paying for all the gas.” “Ass, gas or grass, got it,” Eddie says, like he's taking this very seriously. He is not taking this seriously. Or: Road trip!

All Across the Universe, Complete

Steddie, E, 135K, 16/16 Chapters (Read on AO3)

Steve Harrington knows this world isn't permanent. They never are. He blinks into existence, brand new and disoriented. He might not know where he is, or when, but he knows he's searching for something, for someone, as he's called on and on, all across the universe. He always finds him. Eddie.

I've got two series so far, and they can be found below:

Wildflowers...and All the Rest, Complete

15/15, Various Ratings, 151K, (Read on AO3)

Wildflowers is a companion series to Tuesday's Gone With the Wind, but with a focus on Gareth. So, I'd recommend reading Tuesday's first, to get all the context needed for this series. But if you like Gareth, especially if you enjoyed the version of him I explored in Tuesday's, than this might be for you. (Steddie also features.) It's some of my favorite work of mine, to date.

Jagged Little Pill, Complete

2/2, M, 26K, (Read on AO3)

My first foray into writing for Stranger Things and Steddie! Set in the 90s. Eddie runs, and Steve and the kids decide to find him using El's powers.

First part from Steve's POV and the second is from Eddie's.

My one shots that are a little bit longer than a 1000-ish word ficlet:

Steddie:

No Loose Ends, E, 6.5k, ao3 or tumblr

Never Not Mine, E, 3.2k, ao3 or tumblr

Secret Santa, E, 6k, ao3 or tumblr

Permanent 99, E, 2.8k, ao3 or tumblr

Oh, He Wants, E, 4.6k, ao3 or tumblr

Ready For It, E, 2.5k, tumblr

Of Wolf and Man, E, 5.5k, ao3 or tumblr

Vigilante Shit, E, 7.7k, ao3 or tumblr

King Steve, M, 9.9k, ao3 or tumblr

If You Only Believe, M, 4.9k, ao3 or tumblr

Let the Boy Be Merry, M, 3.3k, ao3 or tumblr

Yours For The Weekend, M, 8.3k, ao3 or tumblr

Gravity Always Wins, M, 6.4k, ao3 or tumblr

Tip Your Driver, T, 4.1k, ao3 or tumblr

Different Lessons, T, 3.3k, ao3 or tumblr

I'm An Island, But You're An Ocean, T, 2.2k, tumblr

Can't Miss Us, T, 1.9k, tumblr

Bats in the Belfry, T, 2.4k, tumblr

Others:

Firing on All Cylinders, T, 3k, tumblr (Jeff & Goodie, Corroded Coffin, Set in Tuesday's verse)

Save It For a Rainy Day, T, 1.9k, tumblr (Wayne, childhood Steddie)

Set Sail on Your Ocean Of Flavor, T, 2.5k, tumblr (Chrissy, Eddie, Steve, Robin)

You Hear That?, T, 3.8k, tumblr (Robin, Corroded Coffin, Pre-Steddie, The Party)

And I run the event @corrodedcoffinfest that is currently hosting pop-up events. If you'd like to join, please come on over there!

The current event is the Black Friday pop-up scheduled for November 29th, 2024.

After writing Tuesday's, Gareth wormed his way into my brain. Since then, he's been featured quite often in my fics. Here are some of those things:

Tuesday's Gone With the Wind, E, 184k

Wildflowers...and all the Rest, E, 151k

Paint It, Black, M, 1k

No Loose Ends, E, 6.5k

One Nap at a Time, T, 2k

Bang Dem Sticks, T, <1k

Corroded Coffin Fest - in general, but specifically:

You Win Some, You Lose Some, E, 1k

Louisiana Rain, E, 1k

Got You Good, Kid, T, 1k

You Love Me, Now Act Like It, M, 1k

Oh My, Good Lord, T, 1k

Room 1015 - Gareth, E, 1k

It Was His Year, M, 1k

Headlines, M, 1k

Zipper, M, 1k

I'm Done, T, 1k

These Keys?, T, 1k

Just Have to Feel It, T, 1k

In 2024, I started doing an end of month wrap-up of what I've written and posted. At the bottom of each post there is links to of everything I posted during that month:

OCTOBER 2024 - 14 fics or chapters

SEPTEMBER 2024 - 8 fics or chapters

AUGUST 2024 - 11 fics or chapters

JULY 2024 - 52 fics or chapters

JUNE 2024 - 10 fics or chapters

MAY 2024 - 14 fics or chapters

APRIL 2024 - 12 fics or chapters

MARCH 2024 - 8 fics or chapters

FEBRUARY 2024 - 3 fics or chapters

JANUARY 2024 - 2 fics or chapters

I made a Gareth fanvid for a Corroded Coffin Fest pop-up event.

[ladymazzy]

Five years ago I would not have imagined feeling this ambivalent about Labour winning uk elections after so many years of tory hellishness, and yet here we are

Tories getting slapped to oblivion is great, but a huge chunk of the party that did it have proven themselves over and over again to be racist, transphobic, anti-palestinian, islamophobic, anti-immigration and pro dismantling public services

Rather than actively challenging any of the tories crackpot 'culture wars' talking points, Keith haphazardly leaned into them, giving them further legitimacy. Wittering on about 'stopping the boats' as if it's a normal, sensible proposition (that's centrists for you)

And of course the other reason that the tories got slapped to oblivion is because a huge portion of their voters are racist as hell and voted for reform

This one goes out to every lefty who still says 'it's not race, it's class'; Fuck You

Wake up and recognise that, yes the working classes are routinely fucked over by the state. But if you're from another marginalised community *on top of that*, we'll, the state has many creative ways to ensure that your very existence is precarious

This country has been *loudly* shifting to the far right for years. Black and Asian people *have been dying* because of racist polices on immigration, and structural inequalities that lead to worse outcomes for us.

Disabled people *have been dying* because of inhumane, contradictory, ableist policies that claim to be intended to 'give people the dignity of work' whilst stripping them of the means of working and/or attacking those who cannot work.

Trans people keep being reduced to a 'debate' talking point, riddled with wild nonsense from a platform lead by a random woman who happens to be very rich having written some kids' books. The lived realities of trans peoples lives routinely ignored in favour of supposed concerns for women's rights from people who increasingly seem to have nothing to say about the actual issues affecting all of us. Trans people are dying and we're expected to believe that the biggest threat comes from schools accepting kids for who they say they are, and people using a toilet

And the response to the genocide in Gaza - so hot on the heels of Russia's invasion of Ukraine - speaks volumes. Where the UK opened up the means for Ukranian refugees to seek sanctuary (which was, of course completely reliant on the humanity of the public and not an actual government thing because, you know; tories), the leading UK political parties have studiously ignored the mass murder and displacement of Palestinians by Israel, bombed Yemen for trying to support Gaza and provided military assistance for Israel in their genocidal campaign via base's in cyprus. And continued to arm israel

I've never seen so, so many horribly dismembered and maimed children as I have in the past 9 months. Absolutely horrific images of atrocities being meted out relentlessly day after day on a besieged population (who were betrayed by the British in 1948) who have been forced to film their own genocide because the west, by and large, continues to deny their very existence. And, once again, far-right Israelis have been given platforms to disseminate their lies in the same way Farage, Braverman, Meloni, Le Pen, Wilders, Modi Trump and others have been legitimised

No one should ever ask 'how was the Holocaust allowed to happen' because we live those conditions every day

Keith suspended Labour MPs for merely calling for a ceasefire back in November. How the party has treated Faiza Shaheen, Diane Abbott, Kate Osamor and others is beyond disgusting. The fact the Labour would rather tories - IDS himself no less - took the Chingford seat than let Shaheen win as an independent speaks volumes

To say we've got work to do is an understatement

[foxes-that-run]

Where do Broken Hearts Go?

WDBHG and four overall has a 80s sound. WDBHG sounds like a Belinda Carlisle's Heaven is a Place on Earth, both are anthemic 80's songs. In this video is the Spotify visual, TV Special, Four Hangout and when Harry changed the lyric to "Will you ever F*** me again" in Sydney 8 February 2015. It refers to I Love You which Harry wrote under a pseudonym and included lyrics from Taylor's Red.

When was it written & who with

Harry wrote WDBHG with Ruth-Ann Cunningham, (who later wrote No Control and on Niall's solo album) Teresa Geiger (Little black dress), Ali Tamposi and Julian Bunetta. It’s likely it was written over a period of time (December 2013 - May 2014) with these collaborators rather than all in one day with all these people.

7 December 2013, London, seems to be the day shown in the Spotify visual, based on clothes.

12 March 12 to March 25 2014 Teresa Geiger, posted pics on him being in a studio in LA and Harry was in LA and has lunch a 21 minute drive from the LA studio it was recorded at (Dojo Studio). (it was also recorded at Wendyhouse London) This also close to when JALBOH and Stockholm were written.

On 8 May 2014 One Direction record Change your ticket in Fasano Hotel, Rio De Janeiro which is credited in the booklet. The TV Special shows Harry recording WDBHG there (2:25) but the hotel is not credited so that version is not the final vocals, or they used an earlier one.

It was announced 10 November 2014 and Niall says it is his favorite in the Four Hangout and Harry says thank you.

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Niall, All] Counted all my mistakes and there's only one Standin' out from the list of the things I've done All the rest of my crimes don't come close To the look on your face when I let you go

The theme of crimes (stealing, kidnapping)

So, I built you a house from a broken home Then I wrote you a song with the words you spoke Yeah, it took me some time, but I figured out How to fix up a heart that I let down

Home theme, Harry refers to home often. Here the is broken between him and the muse and the muses home. At this time Taylor parted with her publicist who cited her parents fighting as an issue.

The song with the words you is “I love you” performed by Alex and Sierra:

[Chorus: Zayn, All] Now, I'm searchin' every lonely place Every corner, callin' out your name Tryna find you, but I just don't know Where do broken hearts go? Where do broken hearts go?

Lonely is a theme of Harry’s work. Harry is searching everywhere for this person, drawing imagery of how far Harry was travelling, as if always in search of this person.

[Verse 2: Liam, Harry, All] Yeah, the taste of your lips on the tip of my tongue Is at the top of the list of the things I want

Harry was seen wearing the outfit in the Spotify visual on 7 December 2013, this first line (taste of your lips is top of the list) reminds me of Christmas, when what do you want from Christmas was a common 1D interview question.

Mind is runnin' in circles of you and me Anyone in-between is the enemy

Circles refers to the theme of round again, a cyclical relationship. The only other circular lyric of Harry’s is ‘same mistakes’ which also refers to mistakes. Here like in Same Mistakes Harry is singing to a muse with an on/off relationship that keeps coming back. And in A.M ‘swimming round in our glasses’. Taylor has also posted about cycles and the winding wheel.

Anyone in between is the enemy refers to people others coming between them.

Shadows come with the pain that you're runnin' from Love was something you never heard enough Yeah, it took me some time, but I figured out How to fix up a heart that I let down

'Shadows come from the pain you're running from, love is not something you’ve heard enough.' Brings to mind “who’s this shadow holding me” in Stockholm Syndrome. Here the shadows are haunting the muse, earlier Harry referred to a broken home and here they have not heard love again and he feels sad for having added to their feeling of wanting for love. Harry has figured out how to not let them down and needs to find them to fix it.

[Chorus: Zayn, All] Now, I'm searchin' every lonely place Every corner, callin' out your name Tryna find you, but I just don't know Where do broken hearts go? Are you sleeping baby by yourself Or are you giving it to someone else? Tryna find you, but I just don't know Where do broken hearts go? Where do broken hearts go?

Harry is not with the muse when the song was written, he’s wondering if they are with someone else.

[Bridge: Harry, All] Tell me now, tell me now Tell me where you go when you feel afraid (Where do broken hearts go?) Tell me now, tell me now Tell me, will you ever love me again, love me again?

In the bridge Harry asks where the muse goes when they are afraid, presumably of love. In Sydney on 8 February Harry changed the first “will you ever love me again” to “will you ever f*** me again?” On the same day Taylor watched Ariana perform JALBOH at the Grammy's, Harry and Taylor had broken up but she was not yet dating Calvin.

The bridge further confirms Harry is singing to someone he shared love with before and was not with.

[Outro: Louis, Harry, Zayn & All] Tell me where you're hidin' out Where do broken hearts go? Come on, baby, 'cause I need you now Where do broken hearts go? Tell me, 'cause I'm ten feet down Where do broken hearts go? Come on, baby, come and get me out x2 Come on, baby, 'cause I need you now Where do broken hearts go?x4

In the outro Harry writes that he needs to find the muse, asking them to tell him because he is “ten feet down” as in dead and buried. This is a theme of love that is alive at the cemetery referred to again in HYGTG, Two Ghosts, OOTW/LAWYMMD transition, down bad and loml.

Harry goes on to write “Get me out” of the grave, as in come back and bring him back to life. He has no life without this person. Earlier in the song Harry says he let the muse down, now he’s asking them to pull him up out of the grave he’s found himself in for breaking her heart. He’s asking for forgiveness

[sequinsmile-x]

The Final Say

Emily wants to put the Christmas tree up in mid-November. Aaron does not.

It's a good thing Emily is an expert at getting her husband to see her point of view.

-x-

Hi friends!

This fic came from a conversation I was having with @cloudlessly-light, who after seeing my Christmas tree in the background of a photo of my cat, told me off for having it up so early haha

Naturally my brain went to 'imagine Aaron and Emily having differing views on when the tree should go up'...and that then turned into a smut fic.

I'm sure I say this every time I write smut, but I truly think this is the filthiest thing I've written so far.

Let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: Smut, 18+ (oral sex, a smidge of dirty talk)

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily loved Christmas. 

She always had, ever since she was a kid. It was something that had always been the same wherever she was in the world, a piece of home that followed her and her mother no matter where they lived. She knew it was for show, she’d known that even when she was young. The tree and the decorations weren’t for her, but for the parties her mother would host, for the dignitaries that would always seem to be in their house, but that never diminished her enjoyment of it. The sparkly lights and brightly coloured ornaments never failing to warm her from the inside out. 

She’d always hoped that one day she’d decorate a tree with her own family. Pulling the same ornaments and decorations from a box they stored in the attic every year, not new ones in every city, and placing them on a tree they picked out together, not one that seemingly appeared one morning. 

She loved Christmas, and that meant she felt the pull to put the decorations up as soon as the days ticked over into mid-November. She wanted to sit on the couch curled up with her children and her husband and look at the tree. She wanted to bathe in the warm light the string lights emitted, a hot chocolate with whiskey in her palms. 

She was even more excited this year than usual. It was Issac’s first Christmas, and even though she knew the 3-month-old would have no clue what was going on, she couldn’t wait to include him in all of the traditions they’d come up with since she’d moved in with Aaron and Jack. 

The only issue is, that no matter how much she loved Christmas, Aaron did not. 

It’s not that he hated it, far from it. As it got closer to the actual date he got involved in the festivities. He’d walk alongside her at the Christmas markets, one hand in hers and the other in Jack’s, letting them drag him from stall to stall. The debate about the Christmas tree would always begin as soon as she started to think about it, making sure she dropped not-so-subtle hints that would make him raise an eyebrow at her. 

It was during their first Christmas together, their relationship only a few months old at the time, when she realised she could use his inability to say no to her when she was naked for her own gain. She’d seduced him easily by walking into his bedroom with nothing more than his favourite lingerie on, and once he’d fucked her into the mattress he’d agreed to her putting the tree up whenever she wanted to. 

It had become a tradition in itself. A game between the two of them that would always end with her winning, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t have some fun along the way. In fact, she’d just laid the evidence of last year's fun down for his afternoon nap in the nursery. 

Issac was asleep, Jack was at a friend's for a sleepover, and she had Aaron all to herself. 

She finds him in their bedroom, focused on putting away laundry, and she wraps her arms around him from behind. She kisses his shoulder through his shirt, and he stops what he’s doing to place his hands over hers on his stomach. 

“Did he go down okay?” 

She hums and nods, “He’s fast asleep,” she says, kissing his shoulder again before she encourages him to turn to face her, her hands on his hips, “Which means we have some time to ourselves,” she says, looking up at him through her lashes. 

“Oh really?” He asks, his hands skating over her waist before they land on her lower back, “What were you thinking?”

She pretends to think about it, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, “We could…put up the tree?” 

He groans, shaking his head at her as if he hadn’t known this was coming, “Em, it’s too early.” 

She pulls him towards the loveseat they keep in the corner of their bedroom and she pushes him down onto it before she sits on top of him, placing her knees on either side of his hips. She pouts as she settles into his lap, purposely making a point of grinding against him as she does. She bites her lip when she feels his hands tighten on her hips almost involuntarily. 

“But it’s Christmas,” she complains as she frowns at him.

“It’s mid-November,” he quips, raising his eyebrow at her. He knew how this would end, that he’d end up giving in like he did every year, but it didn’t mean he was going to give in easily. Especially when it usually ended well for him. 

“The boys will be excited,” she says, cupping the back of his neck, making him shiver as she runs her fingers across his skin, “They love Christmas.”

“Jack is 8, he knows when Christmas actually is, and Issac is 12 weeks old, he isn’t even aware it’s Christmas. Or that he has feet.” He replies, watching as she attempts to suppress a smile, “The only things he’s aware of are your breasts and when it’s the most inconvenient time to wake up from his nap.” 

She leans in to stamp her kiss against his, smirking when he chases her as she pulls back. She cups the back of his head. “Well,” she says, kissing him again, “Then we’d better hurry up and make sure we don’t give him a chance to interrupt us.” 

Aaron groans when she rolls her hips against his again, and he grasps her waist, his thumbs pressing into the bottom of her ribcage. 

“We’re not putting the tree up,” he says, the challenge weak even to his ears, and she leans in, her lips against his ear as she responds. 

“We’ll see about that.” 

She kisses him fiercely, her tongue sweeping through his mouth as she tightens her hold on his head, her nails scratching at his scalp. He groans and his hands slip to her hips, holding them tightly as he pulls her closer. He pushes his hips up into hers and she whimpers at the feeling of him half hard under her. She only pulls away when she needs to, sucking in a breath before she sinks her teeth into his lower lip, tugging at it before she lets it go. 

“Let me convince you,” she says, kissing him quickly before she shifts back in his lap, her fingers reaching for his shirt. She unbuttons his shirt, kissing and nipping at his skin as she reveals it, paying close attention to his scars like she always did. It was something they’d done for each other since the beginning, lips and fingers delicately pressed against the raised skin. Neither of them ever forgetting to worship the other where they’d been stitched back together, proof of what they’d survived to make it to each other. 

She gets out of his lap and kneels in front of the loveseat, her hands reaching for his belt buckle and she looks up at him as she undoes it and his pants. He lifts his hips just long enough for her to pull his pants and boxers. She kneels in between his legs and takes his cock in her hand and clenches her thighs together, desperate for some friction, at the punched out groan that escapes him the moment she touches his heated skin. 

“Fuck, Em,” he grunts, his eyes fixed on her as she leans forward, maintaining eye contact with him as she licks the tip of him, a smile flashing across her face as his hips twitch towards her face. 

“Impatient,” she teases, slowly pumping him up and down, her breath skipping over him, her smile turning into a smirk as he all but growls at her. 

“Sweetheart-”

He’s cut off as she takes him in her mouth, his words lost to a moan as he feels himself hit the back of her throat, the sound of her gagging sparking a fire in his gut. He pushes his fingers through her hair, tightening them in the strands as she bobs up and down, using her mouth and hands in tandem. 

“Fuck, baby,” he says, “You’re so fucking good at that.” He says, and the praise makes her stomach flip, forcing her to once again press her thighs together. She takes him as far down her throat as she can, only spurred on as she chokes around him and he thrusts up into her mouth. He feels a familiar tug in his gut, and he stops her, gently tugging at her hair, smiling as she lifts her head and looks at him with a dazed look in her eyes, a line of spit trailing from her lower lip to his tip. 

He cups her chin and encourages her upwards, steadying her on her feet as he pulls her in to kiss him, groaning as he tastes himself on her lips. When he breaks the kiss he smiles at her.

“Take your clothes off and get on the bed,” he says, his voice low and raspy. She follows his instructions without really thinking about it, shedding her clothes with little fanfare as she watches him finish the job she’d started by taking off his clothes. 

He’s on her the second she’s on the bed, pressing her into the mattress by laying on top of her, finding his place in the cradle of her hips. She groans as he kisses down her chest, his touch turning gentle as he skates over her breasts, well aware that was his youngest son’s domain for now. He licks along the length of the scar beneath her ribcage, mapping out each line of it from where he’d memorised it long ago. The topography of her body his favourite thing, each hill and valley of her skin somewhere he could happily get lost in. Since she’d had Issac he’d taken the opportunity to learn the ways her body had changed, every part of her infinitely more beautiful to him now she’d carried their son and kept him safe. 

She’s squirming beneath him by the time he reaches her thighs, his hands surprisingly gentle as he pushes them apart. He feels pride swell in his chest at how wet she is already, how she glistens in the light of their bedroom, and he breathes her in. 

“So wet for me already, sweetheart,” he says, nipping the top of her thigh with his teeth before soothing it with a kiss, smiling when she bucks her hips, “I’ve barely touched you,” he says, turning his head to her other thigh and giving it the same treatment, “You like being on your knees for me, don’t you?”

She whimpers at his words, her heels finding their place on his shoulders, digging in as a silent form of warning, “Please.” 

As much as he enjoyed teasing her, he knew their time was limited. The baby would be up soon and he didn’t want this to finish before it had really got started. 

Aaron leans in and licks through her, his groan at the taste of her matching the one that escapes her at the pleasure that rushes through her. He pushes two thick fingers inside of her, curling them upwards as he does so, smirking against her skin when she rolls her hips just as he hits the right spot. 

“Oh god yes,” she says, trying to keep quiet, “Please don’t stop.” 

She pushes herself up onto her elbows to look down, to see his face buried in her, the tension in his arm as he moves his fingers in and out of her. The burning in her belly starts to build, crackling through her nerves as it’s ready to ignite. He looks up at her, and as their eyes meet she falls over the edge, the intimacy of it giving her the final shove she needs. 

He’s on her in a second, his lips against hers as he captures the moan that escapes her, pushing his tongue into her mouth, sharing the taste of herself with her. It’s only when she comes down from her high that she realises her legs are still over his shoulder. He’s bent in her half, something that a few short months ago she would have thought was a move that was now beyond her, and his cock notches over her sensitive and swollen clit. 

“I didn’t know I could still bend that far,” she says breathlessly, smiling when he grins at her, his eyes blown black with desire, “Thought I’d lost that ability around the time my hips got wider.” 

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he grunts, pushing forward so he enters her, both of them groaning at the familiar stretch, “You’re fucking perfect.” 

She clenches around him, the angle, the fact she’d barely come down from her last orgasm, making everything seem more sensitive, closer than it usually did. He stills his hips, clearly trying to give her a moment, but she doesn’t need or want it.

All she needs is him.

“Move,” she insists, purposely clenching around him, the breath knocked out of her as he does so involuntarily, “Please move.” 

He never could say no to her, not really, so he does as he’s asked, his rhythm unforgiving as he thrusts in and out of her. She grasps his back, her hips matching the rhythm he has set, one she was as familiar with as she was with every inch of his body. Even back when they did this for the first time there had been a sense of familiarity about it, something that felt like coming home. 

She eventually feels the spark in her belly again, and she can tell he’s close too, his hips slowly becoming more sporadic. 

“I’m going to come,” she says, clenching around him again, “I’m so fucking close.”

“Me too, baby,” he replies, burying his face in her shoulder, his hand drifting down to her clit to draw soft but concise circles over her, “Let me feel it.” 

She comes, her teeth sinking into his neck to stop herself from screaming, and it triggers his orgasm, the feel of him coming deep inside of her making her sigh. They lay there for a moment before he pushes himself up on his hands, his palms on either side of her head before he leans down to kiss her. He sits up just enough that her legs slip off his shoulders, slumping against the bed in a way that made her feel as light as a feather and as if she was made of lead at the same time. She pats his chest as he lays back down next to her, still desperately trying to suck air back into her lungs. He kisses her cheek and then turns her head just enough to kiss him. She smiles as she pulls back, her hand on his cheek.

“Okay,” he says one of his hands trailing down her side, smiling as she shivers, “We can put the tree up.” 

She chuckles as she kisses him softly, a gentle press of her lips against his, “I always win, why do you even fight it?”

He shrugs, “Why would I when we have so much fun along the way?” He says, and she shakes her head at him as he waggles his eyebrows at her, and she presses her thumb into his lower lip, feeling the familiar plushness. 

“You better not have gotten me pregnant this year,” she jokes, well aware it wasn’t a possibility, that she was on her birth control and they weren’t actively trying like they had been last year, “We barely sleep as it is.” 

Aaron laughs and shakes his head at her, “No one can ever know Issac is the product of last year's Christmas tree debate.” 

She smiles as he kisses her thumb, but her response is cut off by a cry from down the hall, “Speaking of Santa’s little helper,” she quips, “He’s done with his nap.” 

“I’ll get him,” Aaron says, stamping one last kiss to her lips before he stands up and walks over to his dresser to get a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“Good,” she replies, resting on her elbows to look at him, throwing him a wink from where she was still lying on the bed, “Because my legs still aren’t working.”

___

They have the team over for Thanksgiving. 

Everyone took turns hosting, even though Dave did most of the cooking every year, and this time it was decided it made the most sense for everyone to come to their house since they had the youngest kid. 

Emily smiles as she glances over at Aaron, Issac in his arms and Jack excitedly talking to his father and Dave, before she walks over to join JJ, Derek and Spencer who are all standing around the tree. Derek smiles curiously at her as she stands next to him.

“How did you convince Hotch to put up the tree, Princess?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he looks back at it, “I thought he used to have a strict ‘not before December’ rule when it came to decorations.” 

JJ chuckles, cutting Emily off before she can reply, “You don’t want to know, Derek,” she says, taking a sip of her wine, “Penelope made the mistake of asking last year and she still hasn’t recovered,” she leans in closer as if they are conspiring, “Plus, Hotch has a hell of a hickey on his neck. Do the math yourself.” 

Emily feels her cheeks go red as everyone looks over at her husband, the bruise on his throat not quite covered by his shirt collar. 

“Oh, gross,” Derek says, and Emily rolls her eyes. 

“Oh come on, Aaron and I are married. We have a baby, it can’t be a surprise we have sex,” she shrugs, looking back over at her husband, smiling as he continues to talk to Dave whilst he bounces Issac in his arms, trying to soothe the slightly cranky baby, “Besides, I know how to get what I want. And what I want is the Christmas tree being put up on November 15th.” 

“So this happens…every year?” Spencer asks, the question escaping him before he really thinks it through, and she looks over at him, her eyebrow raised. 

“I’m sure I’ll regret asking this question,” she says, “But why do you want to know that?” 

“If you always put the tree up on November 15th that means you put it up 53 weeks ago,” Spencer says, and Emily’s eyes go wide as she realises what he’s figuring out, the maths pulling together in his head before she can stop him, “And you were pregnant for 39 weeks and 3 days, and Issac is about to turn 14 weeks old-”

“Okay,” she says, cutting him off with a glare and a raised hand, “That’s enough.” 

It’s too late, and she hears JJ laugh and Derek groan in disgust, “Oh God,” he says, scrunching his face up, “You’re telling me that Issac exists because you wanted the Christmas tree to go up in Nov-”

“Please don’t say anything to Aaron,” she says, almost begging. She knows JJ would never say anything, and that Spencer would be too afraid too, but Derek lived to wind her up, solidifying his place as the brother she never had or asked for, “He’ll never have sex with me again if he finds out you know.”

Derek raises an eyebrow at her, “Is that meant to deter me? If you never have sex again I never have to hear about it again.” 

“How about if you tell him I’ll kill you and no one will ever know it was me,” she says, narrowing her eyes at him, “We all know I’d get away with it.” 

Derek swallows thickly, clearly taking her seriously, and he nods, his silent agreement coming just in time as Aaron walks over and hands Issac to her. 

“Someone wants Mommy,” he says, looking back and forth between his wife and their friends as they all go deathly silent as he arrives. 

“Hi sweet boy,” Emily says, securing Issac to her chest and turning so he can see the tree, his face lighting up with a smile as he sees the lights. Aaron kisses her forehead and walks away as Dave calls for him, “You like the tree, huh?” She says to Issac, kissing the side of his head. 

“Just like his Mom,” Derek adds, hiding his smirk behind his glass as he takes a sip. She looks up at him, her glare firmly back in place.

“Derek I swear to God.” 

-x-

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