#the christmas chronicles part two

[acecroft]

The Christmas Chronicles: Part Two (2020) dir. Chris Columbus

[einaudis]

december in movies [21/31]: the christmas chronicles: part two (2020) dir. chris columbus ♪ The spirit of Christmas Spirit of Christmas The spirit of Christmas Gonna save the day ♪

[flickeringflame216]

🗒

[boombox-fuckboy]

May 3rd is Bandcamp Friday, which means artists on Bandcamp get more out of your purchases. Why not support some of your favourite fiction podcasters, and get some crisp audio in the process?

Fiction Podcasts

Anamnesis (Full Audio Drama + Soundtrack)

Awake

Camlann (Season 1)

The Dungeon Economic Model (The Complete Series)

Folxlore (Part 1 • Part 2)

Inn Between (Season 1 • Season 2 • Season 3)

Old Gods of Appalachia (Season 1 • Season 3)

Sidequesting (Season 1 • Season 2)

The Tower (Part I • Part II • Part III)

What Will Be Here

Podcast Specials

The Deca Tapes (Puzzle Box)

The Dungeon Economic Model (Halloween Special)

Leaving Corvat (TEMPLE OF SLEEP)

Welcome To Night Vale (Live Shows: Condos • The Debate • The Librarian • The Investigators • Ghost Stories • All Hail • A Spy in the Desert • The Haunting of Night Vale)

Where The Stars Fell (The Christmas Chronicle)

Music From Podcasts

The Adventure Zone

Aftershocks (Soundtrack)

Alice Isn't Dead (Music From)

All My Fantasy Children

Among The Stars and Bones (OST)

ars PARADOXICA (When I'm Not Here • Electric River (End Theme))

The Ballard of Anne & Mary (Soundtrack)

The Big Loop (OST: FML • The Fugue )

The Deca Tapes (OST)

The Department of Variance of Somewhere, Ohio (OST: Season One • Season Two)

Dreamboy (Silent Night, Holy Night)

The Dungeon Economic Model (Royal Musical Accompaniment • Chill Beats to Build Profitable Dungeons To)

Eeler's Choice (OST)

The Fall of the House of Sunshine

Folxlore (Music To Dance With Your Inner Demons To)

Friends At The Table

Gospels of the Flood (Soundtrack)

Greater Boston (Soundtrack, Seasons 1-3)

The Grotto (Soundtrack)

Hello From The Hallowoods (Starcrossed Gods OST)

It Makes A Sound (Wim Farros: The Attic Tape)

Kane and Feels (OST: Volume 1 • Volume 2)

Lake Clarity (OST)

Leaving Corvat (Re-mastered soundtrack)

Liars & Leeches

The Lost Cat Podcast (Musical Features)

Malevolent

Midnight Radio (OST)

Mockery Manor (The Music Of: Season One • Season Two • Season Three • A Midwinter Night's Dream)

Neoscum

Nowhere, On Air

Old Gods of Appalachia (What is Sung Under The Mountain Vol. 1 • The Land Unknown (Theme) • The Bride • Familiar & Beloved)

Our Fair City

The Pasithea Powder (Theme • Mary Ann • Odysseus)

The Penumbra Podcast

The Polybius Conspiracy (OST)

Re: Dracula (Concept Album)

ROGUEMAKER (Soundtrack)

Rogue Runners (OST)

Skyjacks (Call of the Sky)

Station Blue (OST)

The Strange Case of Starship Iris

This Planet Needs a Name (Albums: The Nameless Songs - Landing - Growing - Shifting)

The Tower (Original Score: Part I • Part II • Part III)

Unplaced (Soundtrack)

Unseen (Soundtrack)

Where The Stars Fell

WOE.BEGONE

Wolf 359 (OST: Volume One • Volume Two • Volume Three)

Zero Hours

2024 Bandcamp Friday Dates

May 3rd

September 6th

October 4th

December 6th

[nolita-fairytale]

carmen 'carmy' berzatto masterlist

Thee Carmy x Reader 'Make My Heart Surrender' Universe (In Chronological Order):

comfort & chaos (prequel to make my heart surrender)

a series of vignettes: the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you. (completed)

october 2019 | covid & carbonara | heat waves | 2/22/22** | called you again | home**

the phone call (blurb - the phone call that gets reader to chicago in the first place)

make my heart surrender

after quitting your job at the restaurant you both used to work at, carmy asks you to come in and work with his pastry chef at his new spot, the bear. only, the longer you stick around, it becomes clear that you have unfinished business. will one week in chicago change your life, and his, forever? (completed)

tuesday | wednesday | thursday | friday (**18+ for smut) | saturday/sunday | monday | tuesday, again | the playlist

home (final chapter from comfort & chaos - **smut)

try a little tenderness (fluff & angst blurb)

cigarettes & coffee (fluffy blurb)

strawberries & cigarettes (fluffy blurb)

j is for james beard... and for jealousy (**smut oneshot | 18+ only)

your past and mine are parallel lines (fluff oneshot)

pov: carmy makes people magazine's sexiest chef alive list (fluff blurb)

bad moon rising (what if/angst-shot -- guest starring mikey berzatto)

sister-in-law (fluff oneshot -- guest starring natalie berzatto)

still into you (sequel to make my heart surrender)

you, syd, marcus, and carmy return to where it all began: new york city, prompting you and carmy to think a lot about your past... and your future together. (completed)

thursday | **bonus smut scene | friday | saturday | sunday | it's perfect, chef (**bonus smut scene)

don't want to walk alone

the long awaited wedding fic for carmy x reader in the make my heart surrender universe. this six part series chronicles the wedding planning, your (not) bachelorette party, the wedding, and the honeymoon as you build a life with your husband-to-be. (completed)

june/july | august | september | the honeymoon pt 1 | the honeymoon pt 2 | epilogue: november

granola blurb

carmy as your baby daddy

a social media au & headcanon series detailing your first pregnancy with carmy. created for the make my heart surrender universe, but can be read as a standalone work. this has been created in collaboration with @carmensberzattos & @allthefandomstogether , the graphic goddess. (completed)

part one | part two | part three | part four | give you my wild, give you a child (**smut-shot) | part five | part six | part seven

the social media au

scenes from the relationship & this story depicted as social media posts. won't always align with my other social media/moodboards.

part one | part two: first year of dating | part three |

extras/moodboards/headcanons/imagines:

your life as a pastry chef in chicago while dating carmy (moodboard & headcanon)

meeting mikey in another lifetime (headcanon)

pov: you're marrying carmen berzatto (moodboard)

honeymoon lingerie moodboard

christmas with carmy moodboard & blurb

The Bear: Unrelated to Make My Heart Surrender:

(nothing here YET but working on it)

so my darling | sydney adamu x male!chef oc

jealous!carmy & jealous!luca headcanon

stargazing with marcus brooks (blurb)

sneaking around with carmy (blurb)

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Queen - The Show Must Go On 1991

Innuendo is the fourteenth studio album by the British rockband Queen, released on 4 February 1991. It was the band's last album to be released in lead singer Freddie Mercury's lifetime. It reached the number 1 spot on the UK album charts for two weeks, and also peaked at number 1 in Italy, the Netherlands, Germany, and Switzerland, staying at the top for three weeks, four weeks, six weeks, and eight weeks, respectively. It was the first Queen album to go Gold in the US upon its release since The Works in 1984.

The album was recorded between March 1989 and November 1990. In the spring of 1987, Mercury had been diagnosed with AIDS, although he kept his illness a secret from the public and denied numerous media reports that he was seriously ill. The band and producers were aiming for a November or December release date in order to catch the crucial Christmas market, but Mercury's declining health meant that the release of the album did not take place until February. Nine months after the album was released, Mercury died of AIDS-derived bronchopneumonia.

"The Show Must Go On" was written by Brian May, based on a chord sequence he had been working on. May decided to use the sequence, and both he and Mercury decided the theme of the lyrics and wrote the first verse together. From then on May finished the lyrics, completed the vocal melody and wrote the bridge, inspired by Pachelbel's Canon. The song chronicles the effort of Mercury continuing to perform despite approaching the end of his life. When the band recorded the song in 1990, Mercury's condition had deteriorated to the point that May had concerns as to whether he was physically capable of singing it. May recalls; "I said, 'Fred, I don't know if this is going to be possible to sing.' And he went, 'I'll fucking do it, darling' — vodka down — and went in and killed it, completely lacerated that vocal".

The song was initially not released as a single as part of promotion for the Innuendo album, but was released in October 1991 as the band launched their Greatest Hits II album. The video for the song featured a compilation of clips from all their videos since 1982. Due to Mercury's critical health at the time of its production, a fresh appearance by the band in a video was not possible.

"The Show Must Go On" was released as a single in the UK on 14 October 1991, just six weeks before Mercury died. Following his death on 24 November 1991, the song re-entered the British charts and spent as many weeks in the top 75 (five) as it did upon its original release, initially reaching a peak of 16. In 1992, the song was released as a double A-side with "Bohemian Rhapsody" in the US and reached number 2 in the US.

It was first played live on 20 April 1992, during The Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert, performed by the three remaining members of Queen, with Elton John singing lead vocals and Black Sabbath guitarist Tony Iommi playing rhythm guitar. A different live version featuring Elton John on vocals later appeared on Queen's Greatest Hits III album.

Since its release, the song has appeared on television and film, including Moulin Rouge!.

"The Show Must Go On" received a total of 85,2% yes votes! Previous Queen polls: #29 "Mustapha"

[bee-the-loser-recs]

~~~☼ My Haechan One-shot Fic Recs ☼~~

𖤓 Drippin' By @ncteez 16.2k, NCT Dream 00' line x reader, non-specified au, close friends, birthday sex, smut, technically polyamorous, messy, slight fluff, comedy, teasing

𖤓 Send in the clowns By @smileysuh 10.6k, Haechan|Mark|Jaehyun x reader, college au, frat boys NCT, best friend Jungwoo, friends to lovers, karaoke friends, smut, polyamory, slight fluff, Halloween parties, dressing up

𖤓 Roommates By @smileysuh 8.3k, Mark x reader x Haechan, college au, frat house NCT, best friend Jungwoo, polyamory, smut, stoners, getting high together, slight fluff, mentions of Jeno having a crush on reader

𖤓 The V week spy By @smileysuh 20.1k, Jaehyun x reader (romantic) ft. Haechan | Yangyang | Jungwoo | Jeno, college au, frat house NCT, sorority member reader, stupid traditions, no strings attached situation, smut, slight fluff

𖤓 Energizer bunny By @smileysuh 19.1k, hybrid au, bunny reader, dragon Haechan, bartender reader, club owner Haechan, boss x employee relationship, genuine interest between the two, smut, slight fluff, Mark is reader's brother

𖤓 Carpe diem By @kiachiako 5.1k, college au, gamer!Haechan, coder!reader, mutual friends, slight fuckboy Haechan, genuine feelings for one another, fluff, angst

𖤓 Indica dreams By @hazyhae 11.7k, unspecified au, non-idol au, plug Haechan, reader gets high for the first time, one bad experience on edibles, fluff, slight angst, smut, best friend Jeno, reader has problems sleeping

𖤓 Us By @hazyhae 900, stoner!best friend!Haechan, high conversations together, confessions when high, mutual pining, anxieties about the future

𖤓 Cold By @rainbowhao 0.5k, established relationship, fluff, cuddling in their apartment, bribery, temperature being rather cold, clingy Haechan

𖤓 Sugar, butter & the royal crown By @haechwrites 17.1k, royal au, prince Donghyuck, baker's daughter reader, fluff, slight angst, unsupportive mother, pining, forbidden relationship, reconnecting after multiple years, pet names

𖤓 Sucks to be him By @loudstan Magic au, werewolf Haechan, witch reader, fluff, imprinting, slight angst, reader has a boyfriend at first, Haechan refuses to give up, reader is slightly older and owns a store

𖤓 Triple Lee; naughtier the better By @p4p1l0nn 9.1k, Mark | Haechan | Jeno x reader, non-idol au, stoner au, plug Haechan & Mark, stoner Jeno & reader, roommates, smut, slight fluff

𖤓 NCT dream exposes y/n's crush on Haechan in the gc By @wooyukh SMAU, non-specified au, meddling friends, exposing their friend's crushes, fluff, trying to hide their feelings, confessions, cute

𖤓 Quarantine chronicles 3 By @domjaehyun 43k, Jungwoo|Jaehyun|Johnny|Jaemin|Mark|Jeno|Haechan x reader, Quarantine au, roommates (except Mark, Jeno, Haechan), lots of tension & flirting, smut, slight fluff, friends with benefits situation, crack, part of a series

𖤓 Hush Hush By @domjaehyun 19.5k, Jeno|Jaemin|Haechan x reader, college au, friends to lovers??, sleepovers, smut, foursome, mentions of friends Mark & Renjun

𖤓 Surviving no nut November By @domjaehyun 28.8k, Haechan x reader x Mark, college au, friends to lovers, no nut November challenges, smut, trying to trip them up, teasing, slight fluff, weed consumption, pet names

𖤓 Pussy fiend [part 1] & [part 2] By @domjaehyun 28.2k & 40.7k, college au, enemies to fuck buddies to lovers, smut, humour, pissing each other off, cocky Haechan, denial of feelings

𖤓 Tangerine love [favourite] By @domjaehyun 21.8k, neighbours au, mutual attraction, smut, domestic behaviour between the two, fluff, light humours, mentions of a Christmas party

𖤓 Random texts with bf!Hyuck By @catboyieejeno SMAU, established relationship, menace Haechan, jealousy, suggestive comments, fluff

𖤓 Achromatopsia By @neoneversleeps 8.7k, Haechan has Achromatopsia (colour blindness), school au, meet cutes, relationship developments, fluff, angst, anger outbursts, making out

𖤓 Truth or dare By @irregular-idol-imagines 1.2k, friends to lovers, playing truth or dare, fluff, kissing on a dare, friendly teasing, alcohol

𖤓 'Manifesting Mayhem' [part 1], [part 2], & [part 3] By @suhnshinehaos SMAU, mini series, university au, mostly fluff, a little bit of angst, humour, Haechan has a crush on a classmate, reader runs a crystal shop, reader has a crush on Haechan, hidden identity

𖤓 Round & round By @hwaflms 6.1k, college au, weed use, stoners 00'line & reader, playing spin the bottle, wanting to kiss one another, bad luck, smut, slight fluff

𖤓 Hits different By @neowinestainedress 44.8k, college au, strangers to fwb to lovers, smut, angst, fluff, reader self destructs a lot, emotional support, best friend Jonny, past traumas, reasoning behind their actions, emotionally running away

𖤓 And they were roommates By @tyonfs 17k, college au, part of a one-shot series, reader is Haechan's "crushes" roommate, smut, friends to lovers, dumb Haechan, realising feelings, fluff [I suggest reading the prequel & other one-shots too, they're all so well written]

𖤓 Lucky strike By @heartseungs-archive 2.3k, arcade employee Haechan, high school au, Haechan has a crush on a reader, cute, fluff, asking them out

[sytoran]

━ ❆ THE CHRISTMAS CHRONICLES!

˚ ₊‧꒰ LET IT SNOW! LET IT SNOW! LET IT SNOW! ꒱‧₊ ˚

a compilation of all the christmas-themed fics that i've written. these are wanda maximoff-centric, with some other marvel women as well. works with nsfw content are all dom!reader. enjoy! 🎁

❝CHRISTMAS TREE FARM❞

【 w.m. 】 ― you've worked in a christmas tree farm all your life. this year, santa has granted you your wish: the company of a very hot older woman, who might just need a little help with her christmas tree.

❝EGGNOG AND MULLED WINE❞

【 n.r. 】 ― a prank gone wrong in the spirit of christmas fun has you determinedly making it up to your hurt girlfriend.

to be updated.

˚₊‧꒰ა ❆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

❝ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU (TO FUCK ME)❞

【 w.m. 】 ― it's christmas once again, and the only thing on wanda's wishlist is you.

❝I'M CREAMING OF A WHITE CHRISTMAS❞

【 w.m. 】 ― when they said 'white christmas', you thought it meant being covered in snow, certainly not...... this.

❝LAST CHRISTMAS❞ ❝PART TWO❞

【 w.m. 】 ― getting back with your toxic ex on christmas day is a terrible idea. but maybe, just for tonight, you feel like a terrible idea.

❝'TIS THE SEASON TO BE HORNY❞

【 w.m. 】 ― making gingerbread houses quickly escalates into something much less innocent when your girlfriend's horny.

❝ROCKIN' AROUND THE CHRISTMAS TREE❞

【 w.m. 】 ― in which "rockin'" is a euphemism for sex. and it involves the mean girls christmas outfit and a broken headboard.

main masterlist || reblog to support your writers!!

credits: line dividers by @/cafekitsune

© 𝐒𝐘𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍 2023 ━ do not copy, edit or translate my works

[amarillis39]

Halloween Special

Part 14 of The NottPott Chronicles on AO3.

Theo shook his head and tossed back the whiskey he’d been clutching between his fingers to bring himself back to reality. Malfoy Manor was decorated with its usual grandeur, carved pumpkins and turnips covered every corner, trays full of the finest Champagne floated between guests and live bats lurked in the shadows. No one seemed to care for the Ministry’s Halloween affair anymore, therefore Draco, the social butterfly he had never been, prompted by his smart and beautiful fiancé, had decided on organising an alternative for all of those who didn’t want to attend a stuffy gala.

WE KNOW! Halloween was two weeks ago. In all fairness, @missmrah and I did plan on being quick and efficient (just like Theo and Harry), but not only the idea kept morphing and expanding, but we also got caught by adulting (we'd rather be caught by Dramione). Initially, we had a better part of it done by Halloween, therefore it shall remain a Halloween Special. At this rate, we'll hopefully manage to push a Christmas piece around Easter 2026.

[luvistqrzzz]

TRIVIA : LOVE — enhypen hyung line oneshot series

Finding love is not easy they say but what happens when you fall for someone at the most unexpected time in an unexpected way? — whisper a small oops and continue to fall further into the loophole of love.

aka the chronicles of a hopeless romantic soul

PAIRING && GENRE — hyung line x f!reader, can be read as stand alone oneshots, crack, ansgt, fluff, happy ending, more tba in individual fics

TAGLIST — open send an ask or comment to be added (you will be tagged for all the 4 fics) — @flwrshee @aosbie @rsmura @enhastolemyheart @yannew @sophiko22 @www-jungwon @nwjws @in-somnias-world @zzinyl @mrchweeee @ghostiiess @ilovecheese09

PERMANENT TAGLIST — @rikizm @str0l0gy @yenqa @heetoldme @crxzs @s00buwu @nhularin @bunreis @hysgf @mochamvgz @myonos — will be added in all parts

STATUS — to be released !!

AN — TYSM FLO @dollikis FOR THE MAIN BANNER ISTG SHE'S SUCH A GENIUS 🫶🏼🥹 I CANNOT GET ENOUGH OF IT ILYSM FLO my banners for the rest of the fic look like shit 😻🤞🏼 i feel the general summary is so cringe ( if someone comes up w a better one then pls help 😭) ALSO the fics in the series are based on rom com books tbh ive been planning and editing the masterlist for the past two weeks ahaha so idk how to feel about it... technically im still on my writing hiatus but ill try to start working on the fics after exams,,, hope yall look forward to it hehe ^_^ !!

"It was like I was trying to memorize him — in case this was the last time I would ever see him." — (failed) STEPS TO NOT MISS YOUR EX

There were a lot of ways your sister's wedding could have gone wrong but none of them included you crossing paths with your ex who happened to be the assistant wedding planner.  Alternatively, where you were apparently "over" Lee Heeseung but an (almost) disastrous wedding made you think otherwise.

a luvistqrzzz rendition of save the date by morgan matson — [ read here ]

“Here's the thing about writing Happily Ever Afters: it helps if you believe in them.” — LETTERS TO YOU, ME AND THE BEACH

When a crippling writer’s block and an almost broke bank account forces you to move to an old family home, you didn’t expect to cross paths with your arch nemesis from high school, the ever obnoxious, Park Jay. But maybe the series of events that unfold during the summer could help you with a romantic book or two.

a luvistqrzzz rendition of beach read by emily henry — [ read here ]

“Note to self: Do not under any circumstances fall in love again.” — A 1000 WAYS BACK TO YOU

When Jake realizes he doesn't want to be (only) friends with you anymore, you are already moving halfway around the world and he's left alone on the other side of the line. Will it take two oblivious idiots 10 years and more than a hundred missed chances to see the feelings they've been hiding for long?

a luvistqrzzz rendition of where rainbows end by cecelia ahern — [ read here ]

"Well sure, who doesn't need a boyfriend? But realistically, those exotic creatures are hard to come by. At least a quality one.” — A STRANGER'S GUIDE TO LOVE AND CHRISTMAS

For Sunghoon, Christmas is like any other day, only a hundred times more crowded. But then he stumbles across a notebook at the local bookstore. A notebook full of... dares. As he and the anonymous author spend the entire Christmas eve swapping stories and dreams around the city of Seoul, where will it lead Sunghoon to?

a luvistqrzzz rendition of dash and lily's book of dares by rachel cohn and david levithan — [ read here ]

works belongs to @luvistqrzzz do not copy repost or translate my work

reblogs and feedback are heavily appreciated

networks- @hyfenet @enhanet @en-web @k-films

[junedenim]

2008

beneath the boardwalk, part 6 (series masterlist)

dance little liar

warnings: angst, fluff, smut, drugs, etc.

word count: 12.3k

I don't think Alex and I do birthday presents too well. We don't do fancy things, and while Alex is easy to get gifts for because he'll never dislike anything you get him, he's difficult because he doesn't want anything either. Anything he could want, mostly in the music department, I have little idea of what the best thing out there is. He also can just buy it himself.

So, for our birthdays, we've usually given homemade things, a tradition stemming back to the first few we spent together, but specifically our 22nd birthdays together.

The day before, I had just started back at work again after the holiday break and being hungover for a few days after New Year's. I had asked Alex before Christmas what he wanted (another issue, his birthday is right after Christmas) and he said a shelf for his records, which is really just a gift for me because it got his records off the floor where I kept tripping over them. Then, he said, "I don't know, just give me something sweet."

Sweet lands in a lot of categories. Candies, alcohol, desserts. Or sex, flavoured condoms, candy panties. Or sentimental, heartfelt, handmade. So, I combined two categories and made a cake from scratch. It wasn't much of a gift because Alex made the cake with me.

"I want to do it for you," I insisted, trying to pull him out of the kitchen.

He stood with his hands on his hips. "Well, it's my birthday and I want to make it with you."

We made the cake—chocolate—and it sucked. I blame Alex. Eventually, he did eat the whole thing. Whether out of pride or politeness. 

Before he ate the cake, I lit the two "2" candles I had purchased and we sang "Happy Birthday" together because I felt too embarrassed to sing it solo, so he sang it with me. We ended up breaking out into laughter before the end of the song and Alex could barely blow the candles out through it.

At the end of the night, when we sat eating cake in bed, curled up, far away from January blues, I gave Alex a picture book I had made. When I was younger, my mother would go through all her old photos from when she was around this age up until Stacey was born. This was before Tommy died and things like that were a joyous act to do. She had this one photo of her, just her, alone in a photo booth. She couldn't have been older than 10 and she had a beaming smile on her face. She looked just like me. I asked her if I could keep it and she let me. I have it framed on my dresser. 

The whole act inspired me to capture the time Alex and I were living in. The book wasn't packed full of pictures. That was sort of the beauty of it that years after this birthday, that book would be filled by our future. But of the pictures in it, sat the very first photo I took of Alex in his room, scribbling away in his notebook up to a photo Georgia had taken of us on New Year's with me sat in his lap. They weren't all of Alex and me, some had the band in them or Miles. Robert even appears in one photo, taken after one of their Astoria gigs. But the majority of them chronicled the life Alex and I had lived up to that point and putting it all together I felt like my mother longing for a time that had passed, except I was living in that time. It gave me a kick of excitement.

When he unwrapped the book, he gave it a questioning look before we thumbed through the pages together. I imagined he looked like I did when my mother and I thumbed through the pages together. He pointed out little details and marveled at the photos he didn't remember being taken. At one point, he pointed at a photo of me and exclaimed, "You looked hot there! I mean, you're always hot, but va va voom."

I threw my head back in laughter. "Who are you? My grandpa?"

He turned to me quizzically. "Your grandpa talks to you like that?"

I slapped his arm. "Both my grandpas are dead. Now, shut up, and continue."

We flipped our way through the whole thing and I gave him a little birthday card that I wrote a long note in. His fingers grazed carefully over it all. His delicate touch was like he was fearful one wrong move would set fire to it. He closed the book and placed it cautiously on his tiny bedside table. 

Alex turned back to me rather emotionally. He sniffled and just said, "I loved it. Thank you." His arms wrapped tight around me, his hug capturing me.

I rubbed my hand up and down his back in a soothing motion. "Thank you," I whispered in his ear.

"For what?" He whispered back in mine. "All I had to do was stand for pictures."

I giggled into his ear. I didn't pull back from the hug. If I looked at him at that moment I would have cried. "Loving me. It means a lot."

"How do you think I feel? I got you for a girlfriend."

It was all sweet.

*

About a week into January, Alex and I both became sick. He was fine because he didn't have to go to work. He could just lounge around all day, propped up on a pillow, watching TV (in fact, he did, this is when he started watching Breaking Bad, a fixture that would overtake his life for the next five years). I, however, had to go to work.

"Don't go," he whined. I was dressed for work, runny nose, and my big winter coat on. His head was shoved into the pillow and he was wearing the same clothes for the past three days.

"I have to go to work."

"Don't go," he whined again.

"I'm not going to sit here and take care of you all day."

He sat up slowly, his head adjusting to the new altitude. He placed his feet down on the ground and looked like he might get out of bed if his head wasn't weighing him down. "I don't want you to. You're sick. I'll take care of you."

"You're sick," I countered.

"Then, we'll be sick together," he argued.

"I have to go to work." I turned on my feet when he stood and wrapped his arms around my waist, tugging me back into him before I could rush out the door.

"Don't go." He sounded much clearer now with no obstructions in the way. "You'll be no good there."

"Hey, I am always good," I defended. "If I were bleeding out I'd still be of use, or in labour, or dead—" I sneezed then. "Urgh. Look. I can go to work, I can function, I'm fine."

He softened and pressed a lingering kiss to my flushed cheek. "Drink a lot of water, would you? And call me if you feel worse. I'll come get you."

I pushed his growing hair behind his ear. "You can't come get me. We don't have a car."

He kissed my cheek again. "I'll come get ya. I'll walk over and carry you on my back on the way home."

"You're a dork." I tugged on his ear. "I have to go."

"Okay," he conceded. "Call me on your lunch break."

I kissed his cheek. I felt like I was the working husband and Alex was the stay-at-home mum. I was the breadwinner (even if I totally wasn't but I was going to the offices and my "wife" was staying home). I stepped out of his grasp and finally made my way to the front door. "I will. Eat good foods."

"Oh, Janie, you know I'm going to eat all your ice cream while you're gone."

I stuck my tongue out and left. Even with a stuffy nose and a rainy London, I knew walking down Myddelton Street I had everything I ever wanted, at least for that age because work sucked that day and I almost quit because I'm a lazy son of a bitch who was sick and desperate to go home to her boyfriend. But I managed because I loved that job with all my heart. I felt privileged. Georgia was suffering through late-night poetry readings and I had an established career. It wasn't exactly what I wanted to do because editing has never been my strong suit but it was a step in the right direction for my life. I loved that job.

When I returned home, Alex was relaxed in bed with a cup of tea. "I'm sick," I announced, dropping my bag on the floor.

"We can all tell, sweetie. I made you some tea." He pointed to the kitchen counter where he left it out to cool, just how I like it. "How was work?"

I groaned and dragged my feet over to the kitchen, slipping bits of my attire off as I went. My shoes were tossed about and my coat was thrown on the floor. "Not worth it." 

I moved over to the bed, wriggling to settle between his knees, cup of tea in my hand. He was gentle, placing his hand over my burning forehead. "How are you feeling?" He took my cup out of my hand, setting it down.

"I'm so tired," I moaned. He undressed me in the most non-sexual sense. We were sniffling and his motions were slow and tender. He undid my bra and it gave me the same relief as when I did it at the end of the workday. With each passing day, Alex and I were becoming more conjoined. He was an extension of me as I was of him. We were completely intertwined and part of one another. "And I feel so shitty, and my whole skeleton aches, and—stop laughing at me, it's not funny."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he says, kissing my temple to make up for it, running a hand up and down my spine. He gave me a shirt to wear, a clean one of his, and from that point on they were my preferred nighttime wear because it was exactly what Alex would pick for me to wear. It was that comfort after a long day, his hand soothing, up and down my spine.

He handed my tea back to me and it healed me as soon as I sipped it. "What have you been up to today, mister?"

He sighed. "Nothing. I took a shower."

I smirked. "I can tell."

"Hey!" He couldn't sound upset if he tried; a big smile and a voice that tipped with laughter. "I had a valid excuse."

"I know. I know." I pinched his cheek. "And I'm very proud of you for being a big boy and doing it without me telling you."

He whacked away my hand but tugged me closer. "What do you want to do now?"

I grumbled and laid my head in the slope between his neck and shoulder. "Sleep. Watch TV. I don't know."

"Why don't we sleep?" He suggested.

I sat up straight and placed my tea on a flat surface after nearly spilling it on Alex. "You just want to nap."

"Uh, yeah. Come on, I need it, you need it. Let's sleep."

"It's too early."

"It's never too early to nap."

I rolled my eyes. "Then, it's too late. I'm hungry."

"Do you want to order something?"

"It's too early."

"Oh, come on, Janie. Don't make me force-feed you."

I laughed. "And then snuff me out with a pillow."

"Yeah." He laughed in return. "Come on, let's eat."

We ate and passed out after. We both woke briefly around 10 PM and fought because Alex did eat my ice cream. He promised to get some tomorrow and that it would never happen again (liar) and then we went back to sleep, both snoring and sounding in desperate need of a sleep apnea mask. But we had the other and I called out sick the next day.

*

A few days before the Brit Awards, I was informed we were going. The band had never attended before and I had obviously never gone before. Alex listed out the whole plan of the boys dressing as old English hunting men.

"You can join us," he said as we ate dinner in bed. We often did this when we ate at home, which wasn't very often. We didn't have enough room to put a dining table in and I preferred the comfort of our bed to that of a chair. We ate out most nights anyway. It seemed like every night we were out somewhere. That mostly had to do with Alex finally getting a hefty paycheck from album and tour sales. We still ate at McDonald's quite often.

I rolled my eyes. "I am not dressing like a boy for an award show."

He tugged at my waist, making me slosh my salad around. "You'd look hot in anything. You know that."

"Well, maybe, but I want to dress nice. How many occasions will I have to wear a beautiful dress?" I was slowly falling in love with fashion. London makes you want to dress your best.

"You could wear a beautiful dress every day if you wanted."

"I work as an assistant at a publishing house, not Vogue. Besides, I want to look like a proper English lady for my English gentleman. Where else would we do that?"

"A wedding," Alex suggested.

I scrunched up my nose and shook my head. "We've already done that."

"We've already done the award show thing too," he pointed out.

"Yeah, and you wore a rain jacket. NME is different. I want to be fancy dress for the Brits. You'd wear jeans to our wedding if you could."

He raised an eyebrow, questioning, but not trying to be apparent about it. "Our wedding?"

I hadn't realized the slip of the tongue. "Ew. I don't know why I said that."

"The thought of marrying me disgust you?" He joked. 

"Well, yeah, I mean—I don't know, shush. I don't want to talk about it." I was flustered. Alex has that effect on most people and he's good at using it. He doesn't make it obvious but he'll make you feel like he's studying you.

He shrugged, turning his eyes away. "Neither do I."

"Weddings are gross," I groaned.

"Yeah." He looked over at me, sparks in his eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

I slapped his arm. "Stop. Let me eat my dinner in peace. God, Alex."

"I didn't say anything!"

I didn't respond. I poked away at my salad and the conversation returned to the Brits. "We're just taking a piss out of the whole thing, you know."

"You want the free alcohol."

"Fuck yes and that's why you'll go with me."

"I'd go with you even if it wasn't." Although, alcohol always helped.

"Aw, you must really love me." He leaned out, puckering his lips.

"Oh, shut it, you."

He washed the dishes that night and then he joined me in the shower. Under the water mist, after we had sex and while I washed his hair, he said, "I'd marry you, you know."

I didn't know. We never talked about things that heavy. "I know," I said.

"We're too young for that kind of thing," he said.

I nodded. "It's a cheesy thing to do anyway."

Alex didn't say anything but he had always known every thought I had as it passed through me. My need to mock it meant I really wanted it.

For the Brits, I didn't go all out because even if it felt more official than NME, it wasn't the type of event you wore a ballgown to. I wore a midi black dress whose attractive quality was a low-cut neckline, not that I had any cleavage to show off. But the fabric framed a necklace Alex had gifted me over Christmas. It had a tiny flower pendant that fell on my sternum. He purchased it somewhere in Germany, he can't remember.

Alex dressed as an old English hunter was much more attractive than I thought it would be. He had a newsboy hat with a twig sewn into it that he gave me as soon as we arrived at the afterparty and I wore it for the rest of the night. We lost it at some point on the way home. I can't quite remember. We got really drunk.

The Brits made the mistake this year of allowing guests to drink alcohol at the table, worsened by the fact they gave a pre-ordered liquor cache under the table. It was almost a bet to have us drink it all. I read out the program they gave us to Alex. It hadn't gotten too rowdy yet, we were actually planning on eating dinner if we hadn't arrived after the main course period. We managed to snag a piece of dessert before the main show started. 

"Oh, lookie here," I said, pointing to a photo of the band displayed in the program. "Cutie patootie."

Alex scoffed, "I look like I just wet meself."

I cackled. He wasn't far off. He was sitting with his nervous bug-eyed gaze and his hands stuffed between his knees. "Well, I think you look cute."

I continued flipping and Alex slagged off, "All that Brit School nonsense."

"But Adele." I held up the spread of Adele with a BRIT Trust check.

"Yeah, but you don't see me whining on about Barnsley." He sipped back another glass of alcohol. He was deeper in than I and he would remain far more drunk than me the whole night, a rare exchange. 

I snorted. "I don't think anyone is whining on about Barnsley. I liked it though."

"That's because you were the most popular lass there."

I laughed at the idea. "No, I wasn't."

He sat back, his look completely serious. "What are you on about? Everyone loved you."

I continued flipping through the pages, skimming through the text. "I was an easy lay, Alex, you can say it."

"Stop with that nonsense." He had been sensitive ever since some Mirror story had come out about my behavior in school. I didn't know why people would care so much about what I got up to in college. I had admittedly been hurt by the article but I didn't feel any different than when Will would call me a slut. You know, except the whole national scale about the whole thing. I was partially honored by the whole thing that someone would deem me popular enough to publish in a tabloid. It was like I was a soap star my mother would read about. That was the bad part. My mother read it. She brought it up at Christmas dinner, a sly "Jane's famous enough to be called a loose woman."

I tore my eyes away from the program and looked at Al. "It's not nonsense if it's true."

"You don't have to be down on yourself."

I laughed though I didn't find it funny and shook my head in annoyance. "I'm not down on myself. I'm not ashamed of it. I'm not a virgin. Shocker." He could tell I was slightly ticked off, looking back down at Adele.

"I know. I guess...I just didn't know how you...felt toward the whole...I don't know...thing...I just..."

I snapped my head up. "Are you interviewing me?" I laughed.

"Huh?" He was cute, brows furrowed under the brim of his hat.

I pushed his hat down over his eyes, forcing him to readjust it. "I'm choosing to embrace my sexuality this year."

"Oh. Okay." He waited a few seconds before saying, "Does that mean we're gonna fuck in the bathroom?"

I gasped and slapped his chest. "Alexander. I am a lady and you a gentleman, slow your horses."

"Well, then, come hither madame, and let's copulate in the loo."

I laughed hard, "Please never say copulate again. I can tell why people thought you were a weirdo at Barnsley."

His face dropped. "Did people really think that?"

I snuffed a chuckle. "No, Alex, geez, you still care what those bums think of you?"

"No, but, I guess, my impression was that I was liked."

"Alex," I placed my hands on his shoulder with complete sincerity in my voice, "everybody loved you. Except maybe Will and that group."

His eyes squinted. "Will didn't like me?"

I crossed my legs and turned back to the program. "You bagged the hottest lass in school, what do you think?"

Then, we drank, drank, drank. Any leftover alcohol we had went to spraying the boys when they won. For their first award, Alex was over on Jamie's lap and I was charged with making sure the wooden duck wasn't forgotten at our table amongst the champagne chaos. I handed it over James Ford and Richard Hawley amidst the chaos. Alex held a horn and a flask, which showed no shame in the obvious inebriation as he said, "We are the Arctic Monkeys and we are the most fantastic" before blowing the aforementioned horn into the microphone.

In the span of heading on stage and returning to the table, the lads must have drank more because they came back even more wasted. It was an easy coping mechanism for the slow pain of the award show with brief breaks of relief as Mark Ronson and Amy Winehouse performed and the Osbournes hosting, who also had obvious intoxication. 

I laughed so hard I almost peed myself as Vic Reeves and Sharon Osbourne fought over who got to read the winner of the Mastercard British Album of the Year (this is very important because Sharon also got pissed at Vic for not remembering the award he was presenting). The whole ordeal had me drunk laughing into Alex's arms and the only thing keeping me upright was his side, which of course meant the moment they were announced the winner and Alex left my side to go onstage I fell on my ass, nearly tugging him down with me.

"Are you alright?" He asked with a tone of laughter. He reached down to pick me up. 

"Yeah." I tried to hold more laughter back but it was unbearable. "I'm so drunk, Alex."

He laughed just as hard as me. "I think I am too."

"Oh." I laughed some more. "I think you have to go get your award."

"I think so too." We laughed some more until Alex was pushed away toward the stage where he walked up very slowly making Sharon yell that they didn't have enough time making me laugh even more. Thank god for Katie, now keeping me upright with her tiny frame.

Nick took my place onstage with Alex as they leaned into one another, twin poles keeping each other standing. Alex's speech went as most speeches had that night: a thank you to the BRIT School in the style of Adele, Kate Nash, Leona Lewis, and the audience of BRIT School attendees. Except for the obvious credential of going to the BRIT School. It was all very tongue-in-cheek drunk hilarious. Luckily the band made it back in time for Paul McCartney and for that, I will always be thankful as I risked my ankles swaying and jumping to "Live and Let Die."

At the affiliated after-party, I danced in my heeled boots with Katie and used the toilet so many times I must have set a Brits record. Alex became rather tired early on and slumped in a chair around 1 AM. We left soon after that, sloppily drunk waiting for a cab, leaning into each other silently. We had our photo taken and it is the first time I can recall visibly having photographers snap pictures. All before then had been sly shots and from that point on some barrier had been broken. I didn't mind it as much as Alex did. I wasn't thrilled by it either but I liked the idea of looking back on memories of that night that I was too out of to remember.

In the back of the cab, going home together, we fiddled with each other's hands and talked softly. Such a loud night had winded down and it was just us (and the driver) together. "You know your speech got cut off?" I asked him. 

"Yeah." He nodded slowly and his eyes fluttered. "Guess The BRIT School weren't happy with their proud graduates."

I chuckled. "Do you know how happy I am I went to Barnsley?"

He laughed and shook his head. "You might be the only one."

I moved closer to him. "I better not be. I'd have never met you."

Alex stared at me in disbelief. He looked like he was slowly processing the information into his system. His touch was soothing on me as he leaned his forehead to mine. "I love you. You got that, right?"

I smiled so close to him. "I know. Love you too. Did you know?"

He tilted his head slightly. "I had an idea." He kissed me then, close, tight, in the backseat, on our way home, with each other.

*

For my birthday—the 22nd one—Alex and I held a mild party, which turned into a bigger one. Amidst the chaos, Alex and I escaped outside and had a smoke break. Up against our building's brick wall, we soaked in our hazy drunkenness. We laughed ridiculously but we were still able to stand up straight.

"Should we get a cat?" I asked him. Georgia and Kyle had just adopted one.

"Who would take care of it?" Alex asked.

I laughed, even if I was plotting ways to steal Georgia and Kyle's cat. "Fair enough."

Alex looked away and his demeanor had changed, just an inch. His face had dropped to a neutral tone, other than his lips, slightly downturned. "What's wrong?" I asked. He shook his head, avoiding my eyes. I reached out and brushed his cheek. "Tell me. It's not right to be sad on my birthday. It's the most magical day of the year."

He smiled at my enthusiasm, always happy when I was happy. I worried that meant I brought him down when I was sad so often. He looked up, holding something back in himself. "Are you happy?"

My brows furrowed, completely lost. "Don't I seem happy?"

"Yeah. I just worry. I don't know what I'm thinking." He looked away, down at his hands, fistfighting each other.

"You're doing the second-guessing thing," I told him. I leaned closer, sliding my arm between his back and the wall, holding onto the middle of his spine. "I'm not gonna up and leave. I hope you trust me."

"Of course," Alex insisted. He reached down and squeezed my other hand. "I struggle with trusting meself."

I brushed his hair behind his ear, rubbing that spot to calm him. "Well, I trust you. That should count for something."

He stood silently and I watched as a small smile grew on his face. "It means everything." He looked up at me, eyes shiny and piercing. "I always want to be here for you."

"You are," I promised. I leaned my forehead against his. "Now, can we stop rehashing old mistakes and enjoy my party?"

Alex put on a happier face, even if I didn't fully buy it. "Yeah. Sorry for being a bummer."

I laughed. "I'm not one to talk. But I'd much prefer you laughing and making crude jokes all night than this."

He stood off the wall and smiled with a promise to not be a party pooper. Then, he made out with me outside our flat's door until Georgia caught us. She wagged her finger at us and we laughed even harder. Throughout the night Alex made jokes about my boobs and tried to fondle me. It was the most glorious display of a man grabbing a woman's ass. 

I loved every second of it because he'd grab my left cheek making me yelp before asking my opinion on the song playing. He cared every bit what I had to say about it. I had never felt that with anyone before and I've never felt it since. Every second, every mumble, every movement captured him and he didn't let up for a second, he never has. 

I wrapped my arms around his neck and tugged him closer because I have always wanted him closer. Closer to my lips, closer to my heart, closer to my city, closer to me. I had moved past my problem with public displays of affection in the last year. I don't know what flipped, I think I just was sick of not having him touch me. We didn't usually fondle each other this much (alcohol-afflicted) but not holding his hand felt ridiculous. 

Later, after I had blown out the candles and we were all eating the red velvet cake, Alex and I sat on the edge of our bed like we did most of our eating. We were sitting in the middle of the noise but it was quiet enough to hear each other, music turned down and people's mouths full of cake and I had to ask what had been eating away at me. "Are you happy?" I asked. "I mean, here in London."

Alex leaned away from me. He fought a smile, wanting to seem sincere and not cheesy. "Are you kidding?"

I shifted closer to him, leaning my arm forward to him. "I've kind of figured how you feel but since you asked me I wanted to be sure."

His hand reached out and he pushed back a chunk of hair that had flopped forward, holding onto my shoulder after. "I love being here with you."

"I know that." Alex's affection was never easily hidden. For me, it was always easy to tell if you liked something or not and I always knew he loved me, even when we weren't together loving each other. "But if I weren't here would you live in London?"

Alex looked down at his cake, playing with the fork, thinking to himself. He hummed. "I don't know. I think so." Then, he shrugged, took a bite of cake, and looked up at me, leaning close to my face. "But I just want to be wherever you are."

I rolled my eyes. It was too much for me to handle. I pushed his shoulder and couldn't prevent a grin. "Stop it."

He chuckled, pleased with getting me flustered. It has always been his favourite hobby.

*

The Age of the Understatement came out a month later and while the Puppets were rehearsing for Later with Jools Holland, I listened to it in full. I had heard most of it by that point, through bits at Black Box and things Alex had strummed, but fully mixed, I was struck with the fact that I didn't know how to feel about it. I loved it but the subject matter was hard to digest because despite being together when the album was worked on, the majority of songs were written during our break-up.

It was interesting to get his perspective on these things and to hear his longing and even his bitterness toward me. I had always been so interested in this part of Alex because he never showed it to me during our separation. I had worn my heart on my sleeve to an almost embarrassing degree while he stayed silent other than small encouragements. 

I wasn't very upset over it. I always wondered why or how I became numb to these things. I blamed my parents for most of it. I ignored that nagging thought in my head that said it was something else. I ignored it for a while.

*

In April, Alex's parents came down to London for a week. On the second day, we went on a tour of the Tower of London and ate at Rules for lunch. Penny and I shared oysters and I drank A Kiss for Lillie because I loved the name so much.

"How's it feel being shacked up?" David asked us, drinking a London Pride.

I giggled, covering my face with my napkin while Alex ridiculed, "Dad." I've always felt like a little kid under the Turners' stare. I am frozen at 17 eating Sunday roast in the dead of winter when I dine with them. In front of them, I felt like Alex and I were playing a game of house and his parents were asking us how the game was going.

I dropped my napkin and looked over at Alex. He had a grin and was sipping his London Pride, the boys were alike with that. His occupation with his drink made me answer. "I think it's going well. Alex leaves his wet towels on the floor," I tattled.

"Hey!" He put his drink down, the remnants of liquid cornering his mouth. "Jane doesn't do the dishes."

Penny and David both looked on amused. "That does sound like it's going well," Penny said with a chuckle.

We dug into our meals and recharged from our walking and poor weather by chatting. Penny and David told us the news in Sheffield, which per usual was very light and boring, but it was still interesting to know what back home was like.

"How are your parents liking Bath?" Penny asked me.

"Oh, um." I didn't really know the answer. I don't know if my parents liked anything. "They've settled. Stacey's not a big fan but she'll be headed to college soon." She'd certainly been counting down the days. I was freaked out. How was I old enough for Stacey to be going to college? At least, I wasn't my mother. I think she was having panic attacks over that realization.

"Have they visited here yet?" Penny continued to ask.

I took a swig of my drink to clear the food and anxiety in my mouth. "No, no. I think Stacey wants to but my parents wouldn't let her make the journey on her own."

"If they do, I would love to come down and meet them. It's strange to have not met them yet."

I laughed. The idea of Penny and my mother in a room together felt physically impossible like forcing the ends of a magnet together. "Oh, no, I don't think you'll ever meet my parents. I wouldn't subject you two to that."

They both laughed but the air felt awkward or maybe that was just me. I clasped my hands and placed my elbows on the desk, leaning my chin on them. "I just think..." I tried to think of an explanation. I really did. Nothing came to mind. I would say I had lost any thoughts but I don't think I ever had an opinion on the matter to begin with. My parents with Alex's parents felt like a fever dream and if it were ever to occur I'd make sure Stacey was in the room. "Anyway, should we get dessert?"

*

In the summer, I attended my first Last Shadow Puppets gig with their secret set at Glastonbury. Since it was a weekend and it was Glastonbury, I took off work Friday to attend. The Puppets weren't performing until Saturday but Sinéad O'Connor was on Friday so I made it my mission to see her. 

In addition, Matt came out to play drums with them (and Jack White too on guitar) so per usual the whole weekend turned into a booze-filled extravaganza. Though I mention drinking a lot here we didn't do it very often (well, as often as any Brits in their 20s convincing themselves they're not alcoholic). Simply, this year's more notable points occurred over a pint. I blacked out during Jay-Z's headlining set on Saturday, but other substances might have been involved there too. I mean, we also got to see Amy Winehouse again and Leonard Cohen on Sunday for which I cried during "Hallelujah" because I'm a cliche, what was there not to love?

After this, Alex and I returned to London unchanged, slipping back into our old habits, just like I have always wished for. We returned to even older habits of writing together, although less planned. At night, I would write in one of my notebooks and Alex would sometimes join in. Neither of us said anything about it, fearful it would ruin the magic.

Around this time, Alex started bringing up Los Angeles. He started small, one Saturday or Sunday afternoon in July, while I was fixing one of the holes in his trousers. My sewing skills were minimal back then (I pride myself in saying they have improved in recent years) but far better than Alex who struggled to thread a needle.

He kept me company as we sat on the floor, my eyes concentrated on the fabric, poking the needle through it. "I was talking to Matt about LA recently. About going out there," he said.

I hummed. "Well, you know I've always wanted to go."

"We were thinking at the end of the year. After the Puppets' tour. Recording out there at Josh Homme's." My eyes were too focused on the needle and thread than looking at him. Alex had talked about Homme before, slowly getting to know him through the years. Homme had become a common name rather than Queens of the Stone Age's Josh Homme.

"I could probably get off for a week or during the holidays," I told him nonchalantly (mistake).

I looked up and he handed me the scissors, smiling bright and wide. "We'll do all the hikes you want."

I stared at him narrowly. "I just like nature."

He held his hands up. "I'm not knocking you for it."

A few weeks later, we had Jamie, Katie, Matt, and his new girlfriend over for dinner. (Nick was in Sheffield for his mum's birthday). We got a foldout table for us all to sit at and Alex cooked something, I don't remember what but it smelled and tasted good. I was very impressed.

We had seen much of each other in the past few months but this had been the first time we all sat and just talked in a long while. There was catching up and getting to know this girlfriend of Matt's that didn't last for long, but I remember her being nice. 

We had finished eating long ago, but we were still sitting with our empty plates, chatting away when LA came up again. An unknowing Matt asked, "What are you going to do with this place when we're in LA?"

The only way I made sense of what Matt was asking was to assume he was referring to someone house sitting. I shrugged. "I mean, Georgia has a key to check in if we'd need it."

"Two places. Swanky, swanky," Jamie uttered.

"What?" I furrowed my brows and tried to get some understanding from Alex. His face was hidden away, his hand rubbing his face, and that was clear enough for me but I still asked. "Why would we need two places?" I asked sternly. "We're only going to be there for a week."

"Al told us you were coming out with us," Matt said, a little lost.

I tried to look at Alex but he shied away and it became clear that he had bent the truth when he told me about LA. "For how long?" I asked Matt.

"We're all thinking of moving out there. At least for the next album."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm getting the impression you didn't know this."

"Uh-huh," I uttered. I stood up and began to clear the dishes. 

"Should we go so you guys can fight?" Matt asked.

I walked to the kitchen, only a few measly steps away from our makeshift table. Everything too close. "We're not fighting," Alex said, always quick to deny a fight, horrible at diffusing one.

I didn't want to bicker in front of them so I put the dishes in the sink and asked if anybody wanted dessert. The remainder of the evening was tense but I leaned closer to Katie than Alex and when they left I was sad to see them go because I didn't want to fight and I didn't want to do the dishes.

The door shut and Alex stared on at me. I choose dishes. I turned the faucet on and Alex said, "I can do them."

"Will you or will you say that and then not do them?" My back was to him but I could picture him clearly, awkward standing between the foldout table and our bed.

"Look." He sighed harshly, I could hear the aches of it ring in my ear. "Things got bigger and I did a shite job at keeping you informed."

My boiling anger couldn't cool down with him talking so I figured to just out with it. I quickly turned off the water and turned to look at him. "I always thought that once we were finally in the same city as one another—let alone the same house as one another—that all those old problems we had of half-truths and not telling each other things was over with but you seem to have a hard time with it."

"I knew if I told you, you'd get pissed—"

My eyes widened. "You're a fucking idiot. I'm even more pissed now 'cause you lied to me."

"I didn't lie to you. I was trying to work things out and I knew you wouldn't go if I told you about moving out there," Alex tried to explain.

"What were you planning on doing? Kidnapping me out there?"

"No, I was just trying to work things out. Can't I work things out before telling you about them?"

"Why can't we do that together?" All our habits had been hard to break. I thought we had broken away from this one. We told each other all the details only for our ears and those walls, just like in my childhood bedroom, but just like back then things were always omitted. I can't lie, I'd done it too, but mine were much smaller, not life-changing.

"Oh, come on, Jane, because I know you. You would have shut the idea down right away even if I came to with some grand presentation. You only want things your way."

"Because it's my turn! I get to pick! You said that, not me." I held it over his head because I had the right to. Of course, I wanted things my way, I had bent to people's will for so long that I wanted them to bend toward me, but that just didn't happen.

"You're right and I'm sorry. Nothing's definitive. It's not like we're leaving tomorrow." His dissipation angered me and I was no longer open to accepting apologies.

"If you move out to LA, I'm breaking up with you." It was final in my mind and it hurt but it would hurt more for him to go.

He stepped back. His head moved around, rattled and confused. "What?!"

I pointed to myself. My face was hot and my fury was on fire. "It's my turn! I get to decide! We're not going."

"You don't get to decide that."

"Uh, yeah, I do because it's my turn."

"So, what did you think you'd have jurisdiction over for the rest of our lives?"

"At least for a year!"

"When we leave it will be a year."

I let out a breath and couldn't even look at him. A realization ticked over me. "And our lease will be up. Are you conspiring against me or something?" I scowled. Hard.

"No. I'm talking about doing things we talked about for years. We're fucking off to America."

"Don't use my words against me." Alex likes to do this.

"You're using mine against me." I like to do this.

"I don't want to fuck off to America anymore. You're asking me to give up my job, my friends, my flat. It's not like you'd do any of that for me." That's what hurt most. Those tallying of sacrifices. Maybe because I was willing to do it and I know he'd never be. There is something more wrong with me than him but he was well-adjusted and I was a petulant child.

"I'd do a lot for you and you know it."

"Then do this for me. What's so wrong about London? You recorded a whole album here when we weren't together. Now that we are, you have to go to another country."

"For a few months. Not the rest of your life and you don't have to come!" He emphasized that part.

"I know that! I know that, you fucking idiot. I want to be with you. That's the difference but you seem awful desperate to get away from me."

"Fuck off with that, Janie. You know that's not true. I'll go out there for a few months. I'll come back. That's it." He seemed to want to put an end to the fight, didn't want the fireworks to keep going and I was determined more by that to keep it going. To stretch it out for as long as possible.

"Then, we're breaking up. I'm not doing this coming and going shit for the rest of my life."

"Don't be so dramatic."

"Why does it matter? You're moving away to sunny Los Angeles with all the models."

"Do you think I'm gonna cheat on you? Let me remind you who cheated." Touché.

"Oh, fuck that. We were barely together when I went to Aruba and god knows what you were doing. And I'm not threatened by some model. Shockingly the one thing I don't have doubts about is that you love me."

"Good!" He said it so harshly it almost made me laugh. "Stop with all this break-up talk then."

"Why can't you just stay here?" I argued it, even though I knew it was no longer an option. It was as if he was already gone.

"Why can't you come with me? You'll write, you'll hike, you'll be the coolest chick in all of LA."

"Did you just call me a chick? Who are you?" I laughed at the ridiculousness and Alex joined in but I was laughing at him, nowhere near with him. I returned to the argument quickly. "I like my job. That might shock you since you just sit around here all day but I like going to work."

He rolled his eyes and didn't address my dig at his career. Alex works hard, he knows he works hard, he knows I know he works hard. There was no need to pointlessly defend it. "You tolerate your job. You want to be an assistant for the rest of your life, fine, but I think—I know you'd rather be doing the writing. Come on, you'll be Joan Didion or whatever."

"I prefer Eve Babitz," I stalely said, crossing my arms.

Alex shrugged. "Fine. Eve Babitz. Or Patti Smith. Or fucking Steinbeck. Just give me a little."

I scoffed, "I give you a lot." I walked around but he kept following. The place was so fucking small.

"I know. I just know you'll love it or you could get a job out there with Simon & Schuester, and ask to be transferred."

"They're not gonna transfer an editorial assistant and their US offices are in New York." I felt he didn't even care enough to research that part. It was plain and simple that I would just follow him around always.

"Then work at the bajillion other publishing houses out there. Or get published yourself. You're worth more than some dumb assistant."

"I like my job and will you stop chasing after me?" He stopped his movement and I walked to the opposite wall, still not too far away. I muttered, "I fucking hate this place."

"Then, come to LA, we'll get a big place where you can hide out in the guest room when you hate me," Alex offered. But it didn't matter. I just wanted it to end.

"Will you stop?" I was just exhausted, slumping down on our bed.

He sighed. He was over fighting too. We didn't kiss and make up, but he tossed me the TV remote and went and did the dishes. I fell asleep before he came to bed.

We avoided the topic for a while. Alex wanted me to have some distance to think about it and I did. I pictured living in a warmer climate, having that tan on my skin I so desperately loved. I wanted to make him happy most of all. But, for once, at first, I wasn't willing to give up something that made me happy. My job wasn't glorious but it was stable and I needed that stability. Alex had been the most reliant thing to lean on up to that point in my life and as written and seen he was often coming and going, even if emotionally he was always there for me.

In August, before he left on a string of Puppets dates, Alex asked me if I thought more about it. I had but I didn't have any answer. He reassured me of his return and a promise that I would love LA, even if I just came for a week. I didn't doubt that part, but I didn't want to give in.

*

When autumn approached and Alex returned for his September-long break, we fell back into step but not back into comfortability. LA always hung over our heads and Alex didn't bring it up again but I know he was waiting for an answer just like I was waiting to come to an answer. It was a debate between heart and head. Georgia shamed me for the whole idea of leaving England. Stacey cooed at the romance of it all. One was my peer, the other was my 16-year-old sister.

Late one night—it must have been around midnight, either Tuesday night or Wednesday morning—Alex and I played gin rummy, drinking wine. We were silent other than the record playing quietly in the background. I could tell he was getting sleepy.

I drew a card and asked, "How do you think we'll be when we're older?"

He quirked a small smile. "Does gin rummy get you sappy? You've asked me this before."

I wasn't asking him this in the same way, not fishing for a compliment of being an old married couple. I need assurance. "Do you think we'll be together?"

He waited and looked at his card like he was trying to find a match, trying to make sense of his hand. Then, he looked up, smiled, and said, "Yes."

His earnestness was shocking, blunt, plain, and simple. "You've got a lot of faith." With every passing day, I believed Alex and I could work forever, if we got past this hump of young adulthood then we'd be okay. Every day I doubted we could get past that hump. 

But then, his smile grew bigger and sleepier and he said, "It's you and me. What's there to doubt?"

I laughed. "Do you want the list?"

He shrugged. "You're never gonna know unless you try."

Alex won that round and we decided to call it a night. I took a shower and he did something during that time, I don't know what, but he managed to stay awake for me to slip under the sheets and into his arms. I nudged closer to him and nozzled my head in that crook of him.

"You smell nice," he told me. His hand scratched my damp hair, tender and careful, the best kind of massage. 

I felt everything in me relax. I shifted my head to speak and breathe clearly. "I'll come with you. To LA. I'll come."

His movements stilled like if he changed anything I would turn around and reject him, spit all over him. "You sure?"

I sighed. "I think so. But if not I can just live off you for the rest of my life." I feared that but still joked. Coping mechanism.

Alex moved away from me, shuffling me down his arm so he could see my face, a small kiss between my brows. "It would be an honour."

I ducked into his neck and said, "I'm gonna have to be my own person one day." I don't know if I was saying it to him or to me.

I squeezed my arm with some reassurance. "You know, one day you'll understand how cool you are."

"Nah," I shook my head, "I'm just Plain Jane."

*

I have wondered what it would be like if Alex wrote this book and how his perspective might change the impression of the story. I think that most about LA.

We left in November. Alex spent the month of October playing the final dates of the Puppets' tour. I gave my notice at Simon & Schuster and though my decision displeasured Georgia, she took me out to drinks, just the two of us. My parents had approved of the move, even if it didn't matter much where I lived, but they took me out to dinner and Stacey was excited to visit. 

There wasn't much to pack, and I left behind memorabilia that would cost a lot of money today, monetarily and sentimentally. Alex got a small house, bigger than our flat, but smaller than future homes. We weren't sure how long we'd be there so staying modest with our space seemed proper, especially when we were renting.

Truthfully, past my slight resentment against LA for ripping me away from London, I took to California quickly. I liked the heat and the ocean, even if it was winter. It was just a more lukewarm winter. 

Josh Homme's studio being in Joshua Tree was the cherry on top. Alex's memory was always intact and he made it his mission to get me into the national park as soon as possible. Smart move. Throughout winter, we must have hiked every inch of it, seen Gram Parsons memorial too many times, and stargazed at the Milky Way a thousand times. 

We always had fun at night. The speculation of what went on in the desert isn't far off and, though it wasn't a constant thing, partaking in psychedelics wasn't rare. I quite liked it. I think we all did. Joshua Tree at night was definitely a good place to do it. I'm pretty sure that town is founded off of it. 

I looked at the sky when we did it but more often than not I enjoyed looking at people. Like everything else, people usually meant just Alex. His hair was shaggier, but not long, more Beatles mop-top with curly ends. His eyes looked brownier and felt more puppy-dog, paired with a pout. He hadn't been wearing a heavy coat or long sleeve too often and I liked seeing him in short sleeves, fitter than ever. I liked watching him do it more than anything. 

He'd turn to me, notice me staring, scruff my hair in his hands. "Look at us two. Observers." We simply liked watching each other. Always have, even through the rough times. I just found him intriguing and interesting to look at. He tempted something in me that made me so desperate to stare on just like when we were 17. I asked him once if I had that quality too. He laughed, finding the question ridiculous because "Of course. Who wouldn't look at ya?"

Parts of me wanted to return to London where I felt like the one in control. Being unemployed didn't help. Alex would come home to me, which was lovely, but I wanted something to come home from too. Alex brought me to the studio occasionally but I wasn't a fan of being the girlfriend, sitting on an amp, waiting around. I didn't have any friends either. That might have been the worst. Sitting around doing next to nothing grew boring quickly and though I wrote I didn't know what I was writing for.

But I did write something and I wrote often. My days of notebooks were gone and I switched to typing. Something I was dreadful at, sticking my index fingers out and pointing. Alex taught me how to type. He'd drawn up a diagram for me to memorize where the keys were and I always laughed because I could've just looked at my keyboard. He thought staring at it on a piece of paper would be easier.

Eventually, he unlocked the true thing that would make me learn how to type properly and quickly: a competition. It was on one of those stupid typing websites that I had tried out but got sick of typing "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog." However, one day, Alex said, "We've finally found something that I'm better than you at." (This is a clear lie because he's better at almost everything than me but he indulges me so you must too). It became my mission then to be better at typing than Alex. I achieved this by the second week in California because he's not that good of a typist either. 

So, I began typing instead of handwriting, which meant I was writing a greater quantity than ever. To get out of the house, I would go to a cafe and type and type and type. Drinking way too much coffee, which led to my sleep schedule getting completely fucked up (along with those acid trips). Sometimes, I would sleep the whole day while Alex left and returned from the studio. It worked out kind of nicely. It's like I wasn't even missing him. However, it wasn't highly advisable for a healthy lifestyle so I tweaked it just a little, staying up a whole day, and passing out at 9 PM. I blamed jetlag. At that point, we had been there for a month.

That's about when I became bored of California. Early December. I loved being in California, I loved being with Alex & the band, but I didn't have much of a life. It was recreational play with my boyfriend and his best mates. I didn't have any friends of my own to go out drinking with and shit-talk about how Alex didn't pick up the wet towels. When I voiced this to Alex, it never came from a calm standpoint. That has always been my issue.

I told him, "I have no life here. I'm just doing whatever you do and you don't do anything so I do nothing." It was late and we were going to bed but I had to start something.

Alex—clad in his pajamas and tired from actually doing things all day—leaped quickly to frustrated aggravation. I had changed that calm demeanor in him. It killed me. He stood up and walked to the door with his back to me. Not even a bother of wishing me good night.

"Where are you going?" I scoffed at him.

He sighed before turning around and spitting, "I'm not gonna be your punching bag. I love you but I'm getting tired of this shit. If you're going to blame me for every bad feeling you have, then leave. I'm not making you happy then go."

He watched my fury dissolve. I regretted and despised my need to ruin a perfect evening with anger. He did nothing wrong and a pit would develop in me, forcing its way out, fighting its way through me before I was firing away. 

I swallowed that lump. "I'm sorry."

My eyes downcasted, he walked over to me on the edge of the bed, sitting beside me. "It's fine." His arm came around me and I turned into him, hugging him properly. He squeezed back tightly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Talk. Like adults. "Yeah," I said in his ear. "I'd like that."

I told him every emotion that had festered. Praised California for its inspiration and blamed it for my loneliness. I went on and on never-ending and he listened, held my hand, and didn't say anything. I cried at one point, not heavily, but enough for him to squeeze my hand tighter in reassurance. "I don't do too well with change. Clearly." I brushed it away, sniffling.

Alex looked over at my face and realizing I had come to my conclusion, he finally spoke and asked, "Do you want to go back home?"

I laughed and looking at him I felt the answer should be no, but my eyes fell down, and soon did my smile. "Maybe."

"Okay." I wanted so badly not to disappoint him and he knew that. He tugged me close and hugged me. "It's okay. You'll go back and I'll be back for Christmas and we'll do something special. It'll be okay." I cried hard into his shoulder, probably getting snot over him, but he didn't care. His hand soothed my shaking shoulders. "I'm sorry I'm selfish."

I pulled away, rubbing my nose. "Stop. You're doing something wonderful and I love being here, I just think it's too soon. Maybe in a couple of years, this would have been better and I could've gotten a job out here but something happens to me when I'm not occupied. I feel like I go crazy. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, don't be sorry."

I shook my head. "Don't do that. You don't deserve all the mean things I've said. You're so loving and caring and I'm a bitch."

"Stop it. It's okay to not want to do everything I want to do. I love that we butt heads, that you put me in my place. I know that I broke a promise to you and you have every right to be pissed at me for it. I just want you to do what's best for you."

"Yeah," I said with a shaky breath. He rubbed his hands up and down my arms. I was the beating waves crashing onto his harbor. His lighthouse stayed put.

*

The following night, we went to Ivar, a nightclub in West Hollywood. I was still debating if I would return to California in 2009 and with that, I decided to enjoy the time we had left before we returned home for the holidays. The club was packed, I was dressed slutty because that's what you do when it's 70ºF in winter. 

A little black dress is key. Along with a nice pair of heels, which I usually didn't dare dance in but that night I wanted to feel glorious. Paired with the gifted flower pendant, I felt drunk happy. I've always felt happier drunk and since I became aware of this fact it has worried me.

However, that night, I felt well-paced and among happy people. Alex was smiling and Alex hated these kinds of things where people were all squished together, drowning him, so that must mean it was a really good night. I clung to him, arms around his neck, swaying amongst the loud bass beats from the DJ. 

"I love dancing," I told him.

He chuckled, lighter than me. His nose nudged my cheek. "I can tell. You're always happy when you're dancing."

I pulled away from him, shimming my hips. "Well, the music tells me to move and I listen. You're stiff as a board."

"Me nature, I suppose."

I shrugged, moving back to him. "You're cute when you're watching me."

"I'm always watching you. I can't look away from you."

I giggled because it was too much sweetness, his sugar was rotting me from the inside out. I tapped his nose. "You're a charmer. You're my little guy."

"Yeah." He smiled. "I like being your guy. Your fella."

"Fella!" I exclaimed, swaying, unbalanced in my heels. "You're my fella. And I, your lady." I moved my feet side to side, singing into his ear, "You are woman and I am man."

He laughed, right back into my ear, like a game of telephone. "Don't go all musical theater on me, Janie."

I messed with his hair, my fluffy puppy dog. "I balance you out."

"I'd be that shy boy up against the wall if it weren't for you."

"Yes, but you'd have all the girls wrapped around your finger," I reminded him. All those armchair girls he used to have.

"I only want one girl and I'm wrapped around her finger." I suppose to him, he favoured a dancefloor girl (and maybe this is when I started to fall in love with that song, remembering that tiny boy who wrote it).

"Who?" I requested to hear him utter it. My name on his lips.

He chuckled, looking up at the ceiling, strobe lights flickering. "Don't make me play that game."

"But I want to hear you say it," I whined.

Alex looked down, those brown eyes close to mine and he kissed me. We were transferring heat back and forth to one another, capturing each other within the madness as the crowd swelled around us. "You've got me wrapped around your finger, Janie. All yours." It was the greatest gift a girl could ask for.

It felt like we were stuck inside a speaker, the whole place pulsating and booming. The vibration ate away at my soul and it soon became unbearable, which meant it was time for a smoke break. We snuck outside and shared a cigarette because it felt more romantic. I held the lighter and Alex held the cigarette to my lips.

"I want to see a movie this weekend but everything that's out right now is depressing," I told him.

"We could go see Twilight." The movie had come out two weeks prior and Alex couldn't stop joking about it. He would comment on the reports of diehard fans and I would say it's no different than his fans but he counters this by saying that Twilight is a shittier movie than their shite music. Yet, he kept bringing the movie up. Almost like he wanted to go and see it...interesting...

"Landmark is doing Harold & Maude." Landmark had been our go-to activity with retro movies galore. It is now Vista Theater owned by Quentin Tarantino, no relevance here. I just thought I'd mention it as a fun fact.

"Aw," he cooed, leaning the side of his body up against the bricks. "I love Harold & Maude."

I smiled an impossible-to-resist smile. "I know you do. It's 'cause you look like Harold."

He sneered. "I do not. His eyes are all far apart."

"But you've got the same hair." I brushed my hand through his head of hair.

Alex didn't believe me for a second. "We do not. That makes you Ruth Gordon."

I placed my hand over my heart. "I consider that to be an honor."

"I know you do, Rosemary's Baby."

"'Anyone! Anyone! It didn't have to be a no-good slut straight from the gutter. Just as long as she is young, healthy, and not a virgin!'" I quoted.

He laughed, throwing his head back in delight. "You've seen that movie too many times."

"It's 'cause I love John Cassavetes so much."

"You want a guy like Guy Woodhouse?" Hmm, a satan-worshiping husband or Alex?

"No, I want a guy like John Cassavetes. You look like him a little. If you got a little facial reconstruction."

"A little facial reconstruction?" He laughed.

"Well, I see more of him in you than Harold. Besides, Cassavetes was an alcoholic and died 20 years ago, you're much more my taste."

His laughter continued. "That's good to know."

Then, we were kissing and we kissed for a while, long enough that we needed time to separate and breathe. Though we had less air to breathe inside the club, we decided it was an appropriate time to head back inside, at least to let the boys know we were still around.

On our way back inside, we walked by a woman. She stopped me, taking my arm and saying, "I love what you're wearing."

A stranger had never complimented my outfit before. I've had unknown men whistle at me but never a woman telling me, "And that necklace, it's stunning." She was platinum blonde with a short bob by her ears. She was dressed in a white babydoll dress and had pearl bracelets on both her wrists. 

"Oh." My hand went up to it and I fiddled with it, looking over at Alex. His hands were in his pockets and his eyes watched on, nudging me forward with his gaze like I was a child on their first day of school. "He got it in Germany."

"Foreign. You and the necklace."

"British," I told her.

"I've loved British people ever since Harry Potter. Are you British too?" Her eyes turned to Alex.

"Yeah."

"Are you here on vacation?"

"No, he's recording an album," I explained.

"An album? Cool," she praised for a moment before turning back to me. "What do you do?"

"I was an editorial assistant for Simon & Schuester back in London but, I guess, I'm unemployed right now."

"She's a writer," Alex spoke for me. Always my cheerleader.

She squealed. "Oh, my god! I'm an art director for ELLE magazine! You know, I could tell you were a writer. You have that look to you."

I laughed and partially thought that Alex had paid this woman to approach me. "What look is that?" I asked.

Her eyes trailed up and down me, X-raying me and examining the image. "You just seem astute. Maybe it's the British thing."

"You don't know many British people," I told her and she laughed and laughed and at some point, Alex slipped away back to our group but I didn't notice. We talked and she gave me her phone number and her name: Opal. I'd comment on the peculiarity of it but I'm Plain Jane so who am I to pass judgment? Actually, I quite like the name.

Later in the evening, after we had drunk sex (Alex and I, not Opal and I), he hugged me to him and I hugged back. I possess a great need to be near Alex as much as possible, but drunk me would die without it. That part of me will always love hanging off of him. 

My brain was foggy but we were both clear-headed enough to remember the exchange. "I like you a lot, Alex."

He laughed at me. "I figured."

But I was serious, both now in writing it and then when saying it. I turned, sitting up on his chest, elbows on his ribs. "No, like I really like you."

Alex pushed my flyaways back, a funny smirk staring me down. "I really like you too, Janie."

I moaned dramatically. "Like that when you call me 'Janie.' Do you know what that means to me?"

He wiggled his eyebrows. "You want to go for round 2?"

"No!" I shouted, furrowing my brows. "This isn't a sexual thing, it's a loving thing."

"Liking thing," he corrected.

I nodded, pouting my lips. My face felt fuzzy. "I always hated when people called me that. I felt like I was being babied or something. Maybe it's something to do with my dad or Tommy or a stupid guy. But then you call me that and it's like an angels' chorus." I was stupid drunk and stood up on my knees, flapping my arms like I was a bird, and fell beside Alex on the bed. Though I demanded this was a serious thing, I wasn't very serious. My drunk words were my sober thoughts. Luckily, they were pretty sweet.

Alex looked over at me, turning onto his side. His eyes were soft and shiny, staring into me. I was like a baby and started pulling at his face, tugging on his cheeks and tapping his nose. He laughed at my actions but was rather emotional, pulling my hands away from his face, and pushing them down to rest on his chest.

"I'm glad I can be not a stupid guy for you." The idea of stupid guys seemed long ago, almost foreign to me. Maybe I chose to block it out or maybe I had a hard time believing that I lucked into Alex. Even if he faulted and he faulted a lot, I never doubted his care for me. He was the first person I felt that unconditional nature from and it transformed something in me, giving me the belief that nothing should ever be less than this, but perhaps nothing will ever be as good as this. As good as him.

"You are, but you're my stupid guy." I giggled, pleased with my insult. I turned onto my side too, placing my arm over his body, pulling myself closer to him. "I really like the person you are and the person you're becoming. I like every version of you. I'll love every version of you."

He was silent for a while. I was able to stay quiet and still. I could tell he was thinking of what I had just said. It was rare that my words bested Al's in the romance department, but maybe once in a blue moon. 

Then, he nodded, swallowed hard, and tried to force something down; emotions, tears, a laugh—I don't know. "I'm a lucky guy," he said quietly.

I shook my head, adamantly insisting, "You're a deserving guy."

*

a/n: i swear i didn't just post this because @goblinontour praised it. but i will keep mentioning the compliment.

[steddiebang2024]

A Thousand Flowers Could Bloom | Explicit | 90k

Author: @morningberriesao3

Artist: @inflomora-art

Beta Reader: midnightdrive

[Link to fic]  |  [Link to art]

Pairings: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington's Parents, Eddie Munson's Parents, The Party (Stranger Things), Wayne Munson, Argyle (Stranger Things), Jonathan Byers, Nancy Wheele, rEleven | Jane Hopper, Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Erica Sinclair 

Tags: Post-Season/Series 04, Post-Canon Fix-It, Eddie Munson Lives, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Closeted Steve Harrington, Time Skips, Near Future, Weddings, Marriage,Not Actually Unrequited Love,Temporarily Unrequited Love, right person wrong time,Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents,Steve Harrington Needs a Hug,Mentions of HIV, Period-Typical Homophobia, Heavy Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, Break Up, Making Up, Second Chances, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Rejection, Internalized Homophobia, Growing Up, Dom Bottom Steve Harrington, Sub Top Eddie Munson, Switching, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, Soft Eddie Munson, Explicit Sexual Content, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Rough Sex, Making Love, First Time, Virgin Eddie Munson, Oral Sex, Public Blow Jobs, getting caught, Coming Untouched, Fights, House Party, Clubbing, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking, Christmas Eve, POV Eddie Munson, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Trigger Warnings: No Warnings Apply

↳ Keep reading below for a summary!

In the summer of 1992, Eddie attends Steve's wedding.

As he wraps his arms around Steve for perhaps the last time, Eddie reminisces about every intimate moment they shared over the last half-decade. Every time their fingers explored parts of their bodies that never see daylight. Every word they spoke that never left the boundaries of a tightly sealed door.

It's been a cold two years since he and Steve have seen each other—since they've even talked. But the flame that Eddie has always felt for Steve has refused to die. And now he's seconds away from watching the man he wasted his youth loving walk down the aisle.

Each step Steve takes closer to the altar has Eddie wondering if the passion they shared was all in his head, or if maybe—somewhere buried deep—Steve loves him, too. Even if he might never admit it.

OR

A narrative that chronicles the shared moments of Steve and Eddie's lives over the years—the joys, the challenges, and the journey that leads them to a wedding where one is at the altar and the other is in the audience.

[swissmissficrecs]

Johnlock fics I read in 2023

This is everything I read in the Sherlock Holmes fandom last year that made it into my bookmarks. So while I may not have read enough to make a selected "best of" list, consider these the ones that made it past all my internal selection criteria and are deserving of a spotlight. A few of these were completed prior to 2023.

A Case of You by Silvergirl (17K, M, Johnlock, Sherlock/OMC) Sherlock is marrying an American, and at the rehearsal dinner, best man John makes a drunken love confession he doesn’t remember the next day. Badly hungover, John can't find anyone to tell him what the hell happened to the wedding, where the grooms are, or how he can put it right so that Sherlock can be happy. But what if he's dead wrong about what will make Sherlock happy?

A Midnight Clear by khorazir (16K, T, Johnlock) It’s Christmas Eve, and Sherlock is working. Because that’s what he does. He doesn’t need Christmas, or holiday cheer, or even company. He’s fine on his own, thank you very much – until a series of strange encounters on his way back to Baker Street makes him reconsider.

A Story That Is Almost, But Not Quite, Entirely Unlike Blue Carbuncle by Iwantthatcoat (16K, M, Johnlock) It’s the most wonderful time of the year, and the Holmes Family is all set to have one of those unimaginable Christmas dinners— but the game is afoot, as Mummy’s friend is caught up in a Christmas mystery.

An Elegant Solution by ArwaMachine (19K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock finds himself unspeakably aroused by the idea of John with another man. Problem is, the only man Sherlock will permit be with John is Sherlock himself. Seems like an unsolvable problem. ... or is it?

An Ocean Away by westernredcedar (14K, T, Johnlock) Sherlock Holmes has been gone for twenty long years, time enough for John Watson's daughter to make it all the way to Harvard University.

Avast Ye Merry Gentlemen by StellaCartography (10K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock is not a Christmas person. John decides it's Christmas that needs changing.

Bright Blue Ink by 13_33 (13K, G, Johnlock, Warstan) When one of my patients asks me about my relationship with Sherlock Holmes, the great detective, I answer this: I am his chronicler, his assistant in solving crimes, his confidant and friend. Of course, all these terms hold true, now as then, at the beginning of our shared history. But just as in a family portrait you can only see the put-on smiles and never the real faces of the people, they were only part of what made up my true relationship with Holmes. I know him, I then add; I know him well. [ACD]

Deductive Reasoning by cormorant (8K, T, Johnlock) John finds out that Sherlock has assumed for a while that their relationship was romantic, and feels like maybe he should have been notified about that.

Doting Husbands by Calais_Reno (16K, M, Johnlock) Sherlock takes on a new hobby: writing a story. If only something would happen! Takes place a year after the ending of Wooing Sherlock Holmes. He and John have been married for a year, still retired, living in Sussex.

Full Mount by ArwaMachine (54K, E, Johnlock) After Sherlock unceremoniously returns from the dead, John finds himself inexplicably angry all the time. So he does what any emotionally-constipated British man does: he joins a Mixed Martial Arts gym. As John throws himself into the sport and joins in on underground no-holds-barred brawls, situations arise that just might force John to face what is really going on underneath all the rage.

Indefinite Lines by ArwaMachine (298K, E, Johnlock) When two lines, inclined towards each other, are extended indefinitely, it is inevitable that they meet. Upon meeting, the lines become something new. Together. Perhaps it’s been like that from the beginning for Sherlock and John—their lives weaving together, inclined towards one another, moving closer and closer to something greater than themselves.

Live from the Morgue by disfictional (8K, E, Johnlock) Molly interviews Sherlock on her podcast, Live from the Morgue. John listens.

Lost In A Good Book by khorazir (68K, M, Johnlock) After chasing a criminal into a poky second-hand bookshop, John and Sherlock find themselves not only stuck in the building, but in L-space itself. With things still raw and unsettled between them after the events surrounding the Culverton Smith case, this adds another dimension to their predicament, which not only consists of finding a way out of the shop (while avoiding getting murdered by the criminal), but also to finally address the issues between them.

Nightjet by khorazir (22K, M, Johnlock) Officially deceased for eighteen months and still looking for the last remainders of Moriarty’s criminal empire, an exhausted Sherlock boards a night train in Germany to bring him to his next hunting ground. Due to a mishap with the sleeper cars, he is forced to share a compartment with a stranger – who turns out to be not quite as strange as Sherlock thought. The universe isn’t lazy, after all …

Nothing to Celebrate by DiscordantWords (30K, M, Johnlock, Warstan) Sherlock Holmes is back from the dead. Things only get worse from there.

Our Ghosts And This by LipstickDaddy (12K, T, Johnlock) An epilogue in three acts.

Primavera by Berty (9K, T, Johnlock) Italy in the springtime is as romantic as it gets but is it enough to free unspoken words and feelings after years of silence?

Salut d'Amour by ecoutes (11K, G, Johnlock) Despite Holmes claiming that my narrations of our cases were tainted with sentimentality, his preferences in music, I learned, were awfully romantic. [ACD]

Spare Parts by Raina_at (63K, E, Johnlock) Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them.

stirringofbirds between my arms by NotusLethe (18K, E, Johnlock, Enola/Tewksbury) Over the years, John Watson gets to know his new flatmate, Sherlock Holmes, and the man's clever ward. [Enola Holmes]

Stretch by illwick (13K, E, Johnlock) Sometimes the lines get blurry. [Part 35 of a BDSM established relationship series]

The Adventure of The Reluctant Docent by mydogwatson (23K, T, Johnlock) Someone is killing the docents of London. Sherlock is on the case when he meets a very interesting docent.

The Case of the Freudian Dick Pic Slip by expoduck (11K, E, Johnlock) John accidentally sends Sherlock a dick pic he'd intended for another man.

The Mystery of the Missing Metallurgist by rudbeckia (14K, M, Johnlock) A young wife engages Holmes to find her missing husband. Lestrade thinks the man has absconded to America, but Holmes rises to the challenge of Proving Lestrade Wrong. The case turns out to be far more complex and dangerous than they first thought, and Holmes sends Watson to secure Lestrade’s help in bringing a criminal gang to justice. When Holmes gets injured, Watson realises where his heart lies and a little lighthearted banter leads to a tentative confession. [ACD]

The Silence Between the Notes by J_Baillier (44K, M, Johnlock, Viclock) Lieutenant John Watson's days in London are painted in shades of grey after losing both his military career and his family. Could an unexpected request to travel to Vienna to track down the errant son of a wealthy family break the monotony?

The Wizard of Baker Street by Calais_Reno (23K, T, Johnlock) In which Sherlock is a wizard under a curse and John spends a lot of time as a cat.

‘tis the damn season by chrysanthemumsies (22K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock and John travel to Edinburgh to catch a homophobic serial killer in time for Christmas. They figure out how to use their words, more or less.

Trapezoid by SilentAuror (27K, E, Johnlock, OMC/ OMC) Corey Graham invites John and Sherlock to visit L.A. to consult on a project… at least, officially.

Yorkshire by lurikko (8K, E, Johnlock) They're in Yorkshire, in a house in the moors, for a case, only Sherlock keeps touching John. [Omegaverse]

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Mature Rated Fics Masterlist (55)

Part 1 - Part 49 / Part 50 / Part 51 / Part 52 / Part 53 / Part 54 / Part 55 /

Created: March 27th, 2024

Last Checked:------

The Cassie Chronicles-Xerxia (ao3) Summary: A series of vignettes exploring the life of single daddy Peeta Mellark, and his hot neighbour Katniss Everdeen. The Christmas Leap-everydayescapeartist (ao3) Summary: When all you want to do is hide on Christmas, you just might be found by someone special. The Cry-hutchabelle (ao3) Summary: On the third anniversary of her younger sister’s passing, Katniss Everdeen mourns her losses, but fate has someone in mind who will ease her loneliness. The Everlark Carols-hutchabelle (ao3) Summary: Two years ago, Prim Hawthorne asked her sister Katniss to watch her three kids while she and her husband reconnect. Katniss was angry and frustrated and only saved from losing it by her roommate, Peeta Mellark. Two years later, Katniss and Peeta are married, and the Hawthorne Hellions aren't the only ones excited about the Christmas season. The Final Sunset of Cinna74-ghtlovesthg (ao3) Summary: "Love consists of this: two solitudes that meet, protect and greet each other." - Rainer Maria Rilke. Peeta's life begins as the sun sets on the world around him. Adrift as the only one of his kind, he catches the eye of a certain Mockingjay. Judges' Pick for third place in Round 2 of the WMAS HG Challenge. Sci-Fi Everlark AU. The Flesh and the Devil-Glintwarsgreatest (ao3) Summary: Katniss and Peeta re-imagined as Greta Garbo and John Gilbert, stars of the silent era of film, and of their own highly publicized, always passionate, and often emotional love affair. 1920's. Told in two parts.  The Greatest War-Geekymoviemom (ao3) Summary: “The greatest war isn’t between the districts and the Capitol, Katniss. It’s between hope and fear.” It’s been over two years since he was ripped away from her. Two years that she’s believed she would never see him again. Two years that her fear has been winning every battle so decisively that hope doesn’t stand a chance. Or, does it? The Long Weekend-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: Two assistants who barely tolerate each other. One snowy cabin. One very long weekend. Oh, and one bed. The Original Peen Lamp Drabble-endlessnightlock (ao3) Summary: Peeta isn't sure if there's more going on between Katniss and Gale than friendship, but a thrift store purchase by the unrequited-love-of-his-life sets his mind at ease. The Pact-endlessnightlock (ao3) Summary: Cross posting from this prompt from a Tumblr anon prompt: best friends everlark!pact on marrying each other when they turn 30 and are still single. now both are 30 and very much married. what comes after? (surprisingly good sex, awkward kids talk, explaining to families and friends) its up to you☺

[fellow-travelers-fic-recs]

All the fics that have been written using prompts from the Promise You WILL Write collection. This list will be updated monthly with anything new, most recent works listed first.

Please visit the collection to leave a prompt for someone to write or take one for yourself… All are welcome! You can check out their page @promiseyouwillwrite for more info.

✨ Be sure to show the authors some love and appreciation with kudos and comments on the fics you enjoyed!

*Authors: If your tumblr (or other socials) isn’t linked, and you'd like it to be, let me know and I'll be happy to add it. Or, if you're linked, and you'd rather not be, please contact me to remove it.

Most recent posted fics (new works this month, not WIPs) will be featured above the cut. ✂️

🥛 too late to run for cover by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords [NR, 3K] Lucy's done with Hawk's drinking and tells him to leave so he buys a house on Fire Island and decides to fully integrate into the lifestyle at great detriment to his own well-being.

Part 1 of and so with the sunshine: the fire island chronicles Prompted by: @beyondxmeasure

🥛 right or wrong i can't get along without you by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords [NR, 3K] Jackson Fuller disappears and everyone fears the worst - until he turns up in San Fransisco asking Tim for help. Prompted by: @arbor-tristis

🥛 i've got my love to keep me warm by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords [T, 6K] Mary brings Tim to a Christmas party at Hawk's mother's house. Prompted by: @ishipallthings

🥛 Kiss of Fire by drabbleswabbles* [NR, 2K] Tim pays a matchmaker to set him up on a blind date. Things do not go according to plan. Prompted by: @ishipallthings

🥛 hold on (i'm coming) by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords [NR, 2K] Hawk's nightly phone calls become increasingly desperate until Tim has no choice but to go to him. Prompted by: @lispenardst

🥛 my boy by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords [G, 783] Tim wants to know who Hawk belongs to. The answer isn't what he expects. Prompted by: anonymous

🥛 Within The Heart of Me  by drabbleswabbles* [NR, 9K] Lucy goes to the hospital to talk to Tim. When she arrives, Hawk is already there.

Otherwise known as a prompt fill that wanders a bit off the mark, but is close enough in spirit to give credit where credit is due as far as inspiration goes. Prompted by: @beyondxmeasure

🥛 Darkness Before the Dawn  by @beyondxmeasure | Cyantific [NR, 1K] It’s June 1944, following the US offensive against the German-led Caesar line that tore through a small squad of the 141st Regiment, killing two men and wounding others, along with Sergeant Hawkins Fuller. Following the blast of the Nazi’s K5 railway gun, he underwent surgery to repair sustained shrapnel damage and is now recovering in the Army’s 32nd Evac Hospital. In the bed next to him lies Corporal Marcus Gaines from the 85th Infantry Division, also wounded in action.

Or, the story of how Hawk and Marcus met. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 you just make my whole world weep (i'm at your feet)  by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup [E, 1K] Even now the thought of the shape of his mouth imprinted on Tim's skin makes him shudder as he slides down Tim's body past his ridiculous Christmas sweater.

Or, a blowjob scene that went very differently. Prompted by: @startagainbuttercup

🥛 Let Me Shower You With My Love  by @beyondxmeasure | Cyantific [M, 7K] Hawk helps Tim in the shower.

A 1986 canon divergent fix-it. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 like being home  by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup  When Hawk turns eighteen, he expects the name of Kenneth Willard to appear on his skin, tattooed on his arm or his leg, a soulmate mark that bonds you forever with the person you belong to.

Hawk doesn't know what you're supposed to feel for your soulmate, but what he feels for Kenny, his sweet Kenny must be very close, or at least Hawk thinks it is.

Or, a soulmate AU one person asked for and I still managed to do it wrong. Prompted by: @ishipallthings

🥛 I Belong to You  by @beyondxmeasure | Cyantific [E, 2K] This isn’t even close to how he saw their night ending, but here they are, and if Tim wants it rough, who is Hawk to deny him?

Or, the ‘Hit me.’ scene… but a little different. In which Hawk still hits Tim, just not where you think. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 Please Ease My Pain.  by Southernkiss* [E, 3K] As the four men shed their clothing, their motivations varied. Some sought to satiate a thirst that could never be quenched, while others craved the rush of dominance. But little did they know, their desires would lead them down a path of self-discovery and into a twisted reality they never could have imagined. The darkness that resided within them and in this new world consumed them, tainting every aspect of their beings. And as they delved deeper into this abyss, they soon realized the true consequences of their actions. Prompted by: @doodlingawaits

🥛 gold-skinned, eager baby  by @lispenard-street | lispenardstreet [E, 10K] Tim sets out for Fire Island with a single goal: to dig Hawk out of his pit of self-destruction.

As it turns out, Hawk is after something else entirely.

A 1979 fix-it… of sorts. Prompted by: @lispenard-street

🥛 you should be in my space (you should be in my life)  by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup [E, 3K] What if Tim let Hawk touch him during their mutual masturbation session. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 In my nothing, you meant everything to me.by @in-our-special-place |  Cupping_Cakes [M, 636] Her body trembled with conflicting emotions—a slight tingle of pain for being unfaithful, but also a wave of happiness for finally feeling desired. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 make sure he knows by b3y0ndm3asur3* [G, 693] “How did you manage it?” Marcus asks Hawk, not making eye contact.

Hawk squints at him, head pounding from the amount of liquor he’s consumed over the past couple of days. “Manage what?”

There’s a pause. Hawk watches Marcus swallow. “Losing a kid,” he says eventually through gritted teeth, like he has to force the words out. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 is it over now? by @satelarry | satelarry [M, 42K] Seeing the love of your life walk away without being able to tell him that you love him has to be one of the worst situations a person can go through. But Hawk decided to fulfill Tim's request, knowing it will be the last.

What happens when he wakes up, 18 years before, with the knowledge of what's going to happen if he makes the same decisions?

Does the ending always stay the same?

Or, the Time Travel AU in which the only thing ruining Hawk's plan is Tim's stubbornness. Prompted by: @ishipallthings

🥛 In his voice I heard decay, the plastic face forced to portray. by @in-our-special-place | Cupping_Cakes [M, 557] Marcus finally broke the silence, his voice heavy with sorrow. 'Hawk,' he said, his gaze fixed on his glass. 'I have something to tell you.' Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 So simple now by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup [G, 581] Hawk has loved Tim his whole life, too. He's loved him since the minute he saw him smiling adorably on that election night. He's loved him since the moment he felt him writhing in his arms, lost in pleasure. He's loved him for thousands of years, even before he was born. He loved him every second of every minute he spent with him, and he loved him even more when they were apart.

Or, the "I have loved you my whole life…" scene, but in Hawk's POV, a lot of overwhelming feelings. Prompted by: @lispenard-street

🥛 I'll follow you down and I am here right beside you. by @in-our-special-place | Cupping_Cakes [E, 1K] Tim's eyes were filled with a mix of satisfaction and sadness, as if he too felt the ache of their lost connection. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 There’s no place I'd rather you be than with me. by @in-our-special-place |Cupping_Cakes [E, 719] Their embrace was raw and primal, fueled by the angst of wanting each other but being afraid to admit it. Prompted by: @ishipallthings

🥛 something i can't go without by @satelarry | satelarry [E, 7K] Hawk goes to Fire Island to escape dealing with his feelings but that isn't far away from Tim's kind heart. Perhaps he doesn't want it to be.

Or, The Meat Rack AU. Prompted by: @beyondxmeasure

🥛 Just keep on usin' me Until you use me up. by Southernkiss* [E, 1K] Tim could feel Hawk's hot breath on his neck as he whispered in his ear, 'You want to be loud, Tim? Well, go ahead. I want to hear you.' Prompted by: @deputy-buck

🥛 Yours forever anyway by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [G, 733] Hawk and Tim dance together. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 Until next time by @lovebunnie | space_kid [T, 1K] There was a moment in time where he could have run into Tim in this hospital with his newborn baby. He could have seen the devastation in his eyes as the betrayal became real, no more an abstract concept born in the early hours of the morning. Hawk had just missed watching Tim lay eyes on his son for the first time. He itched for a cigarette. Prompted by: @feelingpure

🥛 He calls late at night by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup [T, 1K] Hawk calls Tim after Jackson's death Prompted by: @lispenard-street & @ishipallthings

🥛 Love is an angel disguised as lust by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [E, 2K] Hawk's eyes darkened, from outshining the daytime sky to rivaling the night. His lips curved into a wicked smirk. If Tim didn't know better, he might suspect he'd just played right into Hawk's hands.

"Educate me." That wasn't exactly what Tim had intended. But, his attention caught by the glint off Hawk's wedding ring, Tim decided he could work with that. Or, the edging fic that's probably sixty percent soft. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 My religion is you by Southernkiss* [E, 734] Tim bit his lip; his body was already aching for more. 'You spank them,' he whispered, his voice trembling with desire. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 I wave my hands and I got you by Southernkiss* [E, 616] He belonged to him, ring on his finger or not. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 I’ll become the sea and the sea will come to kiss me by @in-our-special-place |Cupping_Cakes [M, 1K] Tim's voice was a gentle whisper. 'I know, Hawk. But I'm here. You're not alone in this.' Prompted by: @ishipallthings

🥛 We’ll be on the road like jack kerouac by @jesterlesbian | captainquint [M, 4K] He tried to think of what Tim would do or say. The man who had only spoken to his son a handful of times over one weekend in 1968, but had seemed to understand him far better than Hawk ever had. The business card felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket. An idea burst to life in Hawk’s mind. This was an emergency if he’d ever seen one. “What would you say to coming with me to San Francisco?” Or, Hawk and Jackson go on a cross-country road trip to San Francisco. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 Like to make you comfy cozy by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [G, 1K] During a lazy night in bed together, Tim sings Hawk to sleep. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 So give me just a little, baby Just something to get by. by @in-our-special-place | Cupping_Cakes [E, 1.3K] Tim couldn't help but think that this was the best milk delivery he had ever received. Prompted by: @beyondxmeasure

🥛 You take my body I give you heat. by @in-our-special-place | Cupping_Cakes [E, 1K] Without hesitation, Tim bent down and began to lick the milk off of Hawk's body, savoring the taste and feel of Hawk's skin under his tongue. He traced every muscle and curve, his lips and tongue sending waves of pleasure through Hawk's body. Prompted by: @startagainbuttercup

🥛 champagne lovers  by @satelarry | satelarry [NR, 12K] It's awards season, and what better way to celebrate than with a Hawk/Tim awards AU. Whether they're strolling the red carpet together, supporting each other as they're up for awards, or just presenting something. It's up to you. Just 'tis the season for this kind of AU! Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 You taste divine  by @carnivalrow | nightfall_in_winter [E, 1.3K] Hawk joins Tim in the shower in episode 6 because he wants to kiss him…there! Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 A Star To Steer Her By by Anonymous [NR, 6K] Tim is a starship captain, Hawk is a diplomat. Things happen when Hawk arrives on Tim's ship. Or, the Star Trek AU one (1) person asked for. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 Beautiful Things by @carrotcakecrumble | LuxLox [M, 1K] I turn away from the radio I’d just been tuning, there’s a crackle and pop on the wave, but Miller’s ‘Over the rainbow’ is just about spattering through in tune. Kenny says something about how he loves this one. It could be the first time he’s hearing it, for all I know. He falls in love with everything.

A multi-chapter fic following a young Hawk and Kenny throughout their relationship, from beginning to end. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 the thrill of your sweet embrace  by @redmyeyes | redmyeyes [E, 4.4K] "Somewhere, a butterfly opened its wings."— Erik Larson, Isaac's Storm

Let's see if we can make this a fix-it. Part 5 of Fellow Travelers. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 all those letters unsent and that garden ungrown by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup [T, 1.4K] Dear Tim, I know I promised I won't write, but I believe what I really promised is not to send you letters, and this one I'm not going to send, so it is not a violation of my promise. Skippy, I miss you more than I thought I could. It's your birthday and I can't help but think about you the whole day, you consume my every thought and I can't stop wondering, what would it be like if you were here. Or, the letters Hawk never sent. Prompted by: Anonymous

[dearabsolutelynoone]

Films You Kind of Have to Watch During the Holidays Because They’re Technically Christmas Movies (No I Won’t Elaborate)

Sound of Music (1965) dir. Robert Wise

Quote: “After all, the wool from the black sheep is just as warm.”

While You Were Sleeping (1995) dir. Jon Turteltaub

Quote: “I've had a really lousy Christmas, you've *just* managed to kill my New Year's, if you come back on Easter- you can burn down my apartment.”

Anastasia (1997) dir. Don Bluth & Gary Goldman

Quote: “There was a time, not very long ago, where we lived in an enchanted world of elegant palaces and grand parties.“

Barbie in the Nutcracker (2001) dir. Owen Hurley

Quote: “There's a world full of wonders out there, Uncle, and Clara deserves to experience them.”

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (2001) dir. Chris Columbus

Quote: “Now if you two don't mind, I'm going to bed before either of you come up with another clever idea to get us killed - or worse, expelled.”

Mean Girls (2004) dir. Mark Waters

Quote: “Raise your hand if you have ever been personally victimized by Regina George.”

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (2005) dir. Andrew Adamson

Quote: “Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen of Narnia. May your wisdom grace us until the stars rain down from the heavens.”

The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn Part 2 (2011) dir. Bill Condon

Quote: “My life as a human was over, but I've never felt more alive. I was born to be a vampire.”

Little Woman (2019) dir. Greta Gerwig

Quote: “Just because my dreams are different than yours, it doesn’t mean they’re unimportant.”