#A Journal for Billie Holiday

[manwalksintobar]

July 27 // John Wieners

There is the flute                              that sings in the dead of the night. The word that writes itself       only in the dark. There is the woman that sleeps       now and rises in the dawn                                    the note that dances in the air                          on ten toes.    Then silence.

    And shadows on the wall             that look like snakes.

No scheme. Only acts      fragments of the act           that is my life and that of the fellows around me.

      My book is before me       why don't my fingers move over it

[sumflws]

why jazz puts women in the mood for love

[jazzplusplus]

Jazz Monthly (UK) - March 1958 - Billie Holiday

[jazzynook]

How to spend a day.

Stealing Beauty. 1996

[sentimentalbeing2001]

Mornings are always the most sacred part of my days, I wake up earlier than seth to journal/read & have some warm lemon water.. I like seeing the sun slowly melt inside our apartment. As seth slowly wakes up I like to make us matcha & share about what we dreamt about the night prior. We sip on our matcha, this morning the weather is extra breezy so we opened the window and a gentle breeze was coming in. We danced to Love me or Leave me by Billie Holiday. Seth went to go get pasties from our nearby coffee shop, he loves doing that first thing when he wakes up. He says it feels nice walking over still half groggy from sleep.

[badcaninecemetery]

[a list of overhaul headcanons that i've been obsessed with + soft x reader imagines]

he's kind of low-energy, so i imagine a lot of his hobbies would be similar.

given his physique, he'd probably enjoy working out, exercise, and/or yoga. he'd listen to documentaries about scientific discoveries while doing the mindless and repetitive movements. he'd intently watch a creative recreation of the discovery of tiktaalik and then forget he'd been cycling for over an hour.

i definitely think he'd be into reading too. typically he reads autobiographical nonfiction, but i'm sure he could be swayed into more literary nonfiction. he'd also read academic/scholarly journals/publications. he'd spend hours reading and reading.

playing strategic/mentally stimulating board/card games would interest him too. it's to keep his wits sharp, and perhaps hone in his poker face more and more. he probably did this a lot when he was younger, but then it became a hobby so he just does it to keep his brain thinking.

he'd also be into things like wine making or custom metal work, something that he can build and create. chemistry is something he really would enjoy, and there are endless possibilities there. he probably brewed beer and things like that when he was younger to earn pocket money and get himself further out there, but it stuck around too.

along those lines, he spends a lot of his time studying and working on his technical skills. he has many things he has to practice and learn, and i don't think his hunger for knowledge is satiable. he'd dedicate time for learning languages that might help him one day. science and math become some of his favorite things to do to pass the time—it's like doing crossword puzzles to him.

when he was really little, i think he probably tinkered with model kits. he's a little too shy to show those off though, but they're still hidden away in a closet just in case he ever wants to attempt them once more.

—

imagine kai tells you that he has a surprise for you, so he leads you into the living room and reveals with a gesture a board game. his eyes are crinkled around the edges, so you know there's a smile underneath that mask of his. you'd play with him, only for him to obliterate you every. single. time. it's typically chess because he teases you that it's your skill level—and you should be glad he didn't pull out the checkers board (or worse, go fish).

imagine watching him fiddle around with experiments. he shows you the elephant toothpaste one and you both would watch in horror whenever it starts exploding out more than it was supposed to. whenever you ask what happened, kai admits that perhaps he shouldn't have been focusing on your reactions as much. but whenever he's not doing anything in particular for you (and he totally doesn't do those things to impress you), the two of you just parallel play in the same room. he's busy, writing notes down in that doctor's scrawl of his and staring down intently through his bulky jewelers loupes; while you're relaxing on the other side of the room, perhaps doing something quiet and easy like drawing, or knitting, or writing, or researching.

imagine soft jazz in the background during these things. kai slowly turns to face you with a hard stare whenever you start playing your mix of sad jazz. he shakes his head softly, telling you he's not going to examine the medicinal samples in his petri dishes to billie holiday's "the man i love" (which makes him shift from foot to foot awkwardly because of the lyrics). a sly grin starts to stretch across your face as you switch it to old german jazz (the kind that plays in those 1930s men's fashion instagram reels), and you start doing a little dance towards him, shaking your hips and shimmying. kai's eyes are wide, but he's unable to not succumb whenever you lightly grasp his hands and loosely swing his arms back and forth (he's imploding internally).

imagine making him a rap, rock rap, and/or nu metal playlist. it's sometimes heavy and emotional or bitter, and sometimes it's nice for him to lean back and grimace at the ceiling whenever he listens to the words. so you hook up your phone to a speaker, then hit shuffle. his head is leaned against the back of the couch, eyes closed while the playlist cycles through. one second cypress hill is playing, the next it's eminem's fack. kai's face contorts into dissatisfaction before his eyes open and he pointedly looks at you, but you just snicker and say it's like a game of russian roulette. i wonder just how many times this song is hidden in this playlist? kai just sighs in acceptance.

imagine kai gushing to you (in a definitely calm and composed manner) about some or the nonfiction/journals he reads, or documentaries he's watched. sometimes he'll throw a word out there that you don't know, but he's very willing to explain what it means. he's brief and precise whenever he elaborates the information, and he'll offer to let you read/watch the materials too. you'd definitely sit down and read/watch it (even if it doesn't particularly interest you, but you know kai enjoys it).

imagine the two of you getting into stuff to do together like reading theory (you wouldn't stop jokingly spamming links to the communist manifesto and industrial society and its future at three a.m. in the morning—but then you both dipped in émile durkheim and kai was immediately enthralled). or doing something like learning animal taxonomy (you wouldn't stop calling the centipedes little lovers). or something simple like drinking coffee (or whatever you'd prefer at that moment) in public and people watching.

so many little things to pass the time, just brief smiles and witty glances behind coffee steam.

[shorties-unite]

Thinking about barbie and the trends and conversations I’m seeing and having because of it. In particular all the stuff about girlhood. Don’t get me wrong, I love girlhood, I made one of the silly tik toks with memories with my female friends and family to the Billie Eilish song and cried while journaling about it two days ago. But the thing is I’m 23 right now and I’m still calling my experiences “girlhood” and I don’t know why. I’m a grown woman, technically. I pay rent and taxes and go to work and study and do all the things that a functioning adult in society has to (albeit begrudgingly and anxiously bc I and I’ve heard everyone else actually secretly have no fucking idea what we’re doing). So, shouldn’t what I’m experiencing now be womanhood? But something about that doesn’t sound right. Something about the word woman doesn’t sound right when being used to refer to me at all, but not in a gender way. I definitely identify as a female person, but being called a woman feels wrong. Being called a lady feels wrong unless the words “promising” “beautiful” and most importantly “young” come before it. I feel much more comfortable being called a girl, but by definition of the word I’m not a girl anymore. Is this a result of internal misogyny? Probably. Some amount with obsession over youth and beauty in the form of being child-like in order to be valued as a female person. Small and hairless and fragile and weak. Sweet and polite and naive and compliant. Some amount to do with the fact that “womanhood” still feels like it can only be reached if it included motherhood or some other kind of female caretaker role like wife to a useless man who can’t pick up his own laundry or cook himself dinner. Womanhood doesn’t sound like it includes concerts and dancing on nights out with my friends. Day trips to the beach and holidays to places I’ve never seen. Working hard to achieve goals and ambitions. Those seem to fit more neatly into girlhood than they do womanhood in my mind, but is that how it should be? Should I be forcing myself to call myself a woman even though the word sounds dirty to me?



[buckysgrace]

Sixty

Dancing in the Dark Masterlist

Valentine’s Day rolled around quickly, leaving Billy nervous as he kept thinking over his plans for the day. He’d never really done anything fancy for the stupid holiday. They were usually cheap dates and quick fucks. Nothing special. Not until now. 

He was stressed about it. He didn’t know how he was going to make it special for her. She couldn’t keep her nose out of cheesy romance novels, fawned over passionate movies and had a whole journal dedicated to her dream wedding. He was sure that he was fucked. She probably had the perfect day planned out and he had no idea about any of it. 

“Hey,” Billy hesitated as he leaned against the doorway, watching as Rosemary finished sweeping up the front of the store, “I was going to take Kim out tonight. I mean I am. I got us a hotel room too.” He said slowly, unsure of why he was so nervous to ask her. 

This morning had been busy, a lot busier than what he was used to. Mostly men, coming in to do some last minute cake shopping. Billy was very happy that he had ordered things ahead of time. He didn’t want to be bustling around last second. 

When he’d arrived this morning he had noticed a little set up on his counter. There was one red rose, a bag of handmade peanut butter pretzels and a square crocheted heart pattern. She was too sweet for her own good. He was fearing his gestures wouldn't come close to hers. 

Rosemary had wished him a happy Valentine’s Day that morning as well and thus far the only other card that he’d received had been from Cindy. It was store bought and her number was scribbled in neatly at the bottom. She was even so kind to say she wished the best for Kim. He tossed it immediately. 

“Oh that will be fun,” Rosemary smiled as she sat up, leaning against the broom for a second, “Sam and I are going out too.” She said excitedly, chewing on her bottom lip as she thought about it. He paused, sure that this meant that him and Kim wouldn’t be able to go. 

“Sorry,” He apologized, “I didn’t know. Do you need us to watch Russell?” He asked seriously, thinking about how often he had to cancel dates because Neil and Susan went out. He hated playing the babysitter part, but he’d do it after all the stress he’d put them through recently. 

“Well,” She paused, “I already got someone to watch him.” She said with a nod of her head. He tilted his chin in confusion, noticing the way she was holding something back. It was curious. 

“Who?” Billy asked, laughing as he thought about it, “It’s Valentine’s Day. I’m sure only weirdos and losers are out.” He stated, furrowing his eyebrows as he thought about what poor person got stuck watching Russell. Then again, Russell would probably be the one stuck with some lame person. 

“Funny,” She replied dryly, “Your friend Tommy actually agreed to it. He said he had nothing better to do and could use the cash.” She smirked a little bit as she rested her hand on her hip, looking quite proud. Billy snorted, sure that Tommy was doing this to get on Rosemary’s good side. It was sickening. 

“That asshole just doesn’t want to babysit Jennifer,” He said quickly as he shook his head, “And Tommy is a terrible influence.” He pointed out, unsure if it was a good thing or not to leave him alone with Russell. Tommy was odd in his own way.

“Well, like you said,” Rosemary replied with a grin, “The only ones left were losers and weirdos. Besides, at least Tommy can keep Russell entertained.” She said as she nodded her head, looking quite pleased with her answer still. He supposed that she was right. Tommy wasn’t that hard to entertain. Sometimes. 

“He’ll probably lock him outside,” Billy mumbled before he shook his head, “So is that fine with you then?” He rubbed the back of his neck, still expecting her to laugh in his face. Neil would’ve told him that it was stupid. That he shouldn’t spend so much time fussing over a girl on top of a lot of other things. 

“Yeah,” She nodded her head, “I just want to know when you guys get there, for safety reasons. Call the house, please let someone know.” She said seriously, pointing the end of the broom at him to tell him that she meant business. 

“We will,” He nodded his head, “Thanks, I appreciate it.” He said seriously, watching as she threw the dirt from the pail away. She put the broom away, then paused as she turned towards him again. 

“You two have fun,” She said with a big smile, “And Billy?” She said a second later, making him stop his movements as he headed towards the back of the kitchen. He needed to get ready to leave, to ensure that he got the rest of his stuff picked up in time. 

“Hm?” He asked, resting his hands on his hips as he waited for whatever she had to say. 

“Buy a box of condoms,” She said, shaking her head as he felt his face suddenly burn, “Or by next Thanksgiving you’ll have to deal with Susan and a crying baby.” She mocked a serious expression, nodding her head and making him think about how true that was. No babies in his immediate future.

“I’ll remember that,” He told her seriously as he nodded his head, trying to ignore how his face continued to heat up, “Thank you. I’ll see you at home.” He nodded his head, grumbling underneath his breath as he ducked his head towards the exit. He continued to mumble, all the way until he was in the safety of his car. 

He had most of her gifts already picked up and hidden within his room. He was hoping that she wouldn’t be nosey enough to search through while he was gone. The only thing he really needed to pick up today was the flowers. He had thought that flowers would be very important to her. 

He felt awkward shuffling them into his car, even more awkward when he carefully pulled them free and carried them up towards the house. He shuffled around for a moment, trying to think of the right thing to say once he entered.

“Are those for me?” Russell mocked as he greeted him at the door, still wearing his backpack on his shoulders, “You shouldn’t have.” He said sweetly as he held his hand over his chest, making Billy roll his eyes in exasperation.

“What about you?” He asked as he raised his eyebrows, looking at Russell curiously, “Did uh, any assholes give you any cards today?” He pondered for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to ask him. He wondered if there were any girls that liked Russell and how he got around that whole situation. 

“Shut up.” Russell responded with a burning face, his cheeks lighting up so brightly that he could put Kim to shame. Amusement struck him as he realized that there must be some truth to it. 

“Wait,” Billy laughed as he started to follow behind him, “It sounds like someone did.” He said a little more seriously, wanting to know what little punk was messing with his little brother. Russell walked a little faster, almost toppling into Pearl who had jumped out. 

“Go away!” He protested, his face still burning brightly as he slammed his bedroom door shut. Billy paused outside, rattling the doorknob for a moment as he decided that he’d get the information out of Russell later.

He paused as he held onto the flowers, wondering how the best way to approach her would be. He didn’t want to just throw them at her, but he wasn’t sure if he’d have time to set anything fancy up for her. 

“She’s in her room,” Sam said as he looked over the bouquet of flowers from his doorway, “She’s going to like those.” He continued on with a large smile, a glimmer of pride in his eyes. Billy didn’t know how to handle that. 

“Thanks,” He mumbled, “I appreciate it.” He nodded, raising his free hand up towards him as he turned away. He headed into his room, trying to gain sense of what to say. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to give her the presents now, but he didn’t want to do it at the restaurant either. 

He gathered up the rest of his things, organizing them neatly in the little basket he’d found. He wondered suddenly if he should’ve added more color, made it a little brighter. He was suddenly worried, hoping that she would like it.

He knocked outside of her door, feeling nervous as he glanced down at Pearl who had settled herself on top of his foot. She looked up at him with her different colored eyes, a hint of mischief in them like she was planning on tripping him.

“Come on!” Kim shouted kindly from inside, her voice soft and smooth as he slowly twisted the door open. Her curtains were spread far apart, her windows open as she invited in the bright sun and calm breeze. She was stretched out on her stomach, the pages of her book pressed between her fingers as her ankles crossed in the air. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He spoke up, grinning as he walked into the room. He held onto the stuff awkwardly, not quite sure where to put everything. She gasped as she quickly stood up, her dress rising over her thighs as she rushed towards him. Her eyes were wide, completely taken aback. 

He felt his smile grow as he watched her quickly analyze everything, her cheeks turning pink as she slowly pressed the presents in her hands. She put the gift basket down, staring at the bouquet in wonder. 

“Billy,” She gasped as she looked over the carnations, “You didn’t have to get me this many. Oh my goodness, these are beautiful. And chocolate! Thank you.” She said as she looked at the little heart box that was looped around the stems. She bounced on the tips of her toes, seemingly overjoyed as he felt this heart hammering in his chest. 

“Of course I did,” He said with a grin, watching the way her eyes flashed in joy, “You deserve all of the flowers.” He said as he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. He paused for a moment before he took the flowers again, gesturing towards the rest of her presents.

She plopped down at the edge of the bed, pulling free some of the little heart decorations he’d found. Okay, that Russell had found. He had been a fairly big help in making sure that Billy didn’t make it look completely ugly. 

“Oh my God!” She exclaimed as she held the stuffed cow up, “It’s huge! Where did you find him?” She asked seriously as she tugged it into her arms. It was indeed huge, at least the side of half of her body. The cow was white with brown heart shaped spots, as well as heart shaped antenna. Pearl hopped up on her lap, sniffling it curiously. 

“That’s a secret,” He said playfully, amused by how entertained she was, “Do you like everything?” He watched as she continued to pull out little bags of candy, some rolls of yarn and a few mystery novels he’d found. Alma had mentioned throwing in a sketchbook, which he had done. Kim had a little bit of everything, just like Christmas. 

“I love them,” She said, smiling brightly as she examined the earrings, “I was going to give you yours later, but now s’fine.” She said as she placed her things aside gently, then came forth with a large pink basket. There were a few red balloons attached to it, shaped into hearts. She had definitely gone all out with the little heart decorations and glitter. Oh well. It was sweet. 

Inside of his basket held a shirt, a navy blue buttoned up with various stripes going down the front of it. Inside was also what seemed to be a mixtape, a red crocheted hat, a new copy of Cold Moon Over Babylon and a new set of gold earrings. They were little hoops, making him grin as he looked over at them. 

“What’s this?” He asked as he held up a little hard. It was handmade, cut from pink sheets of construction paper. She had clearly used some sort of white material to make the lace part of it as well. His name was written in large cursive, soft. He could tell it was her handwriting by the way she curved her y. 

“It’s nothing,” She said, face burning as she tucked her hair behind her ears, “It’s just-, you know. It’s just a little poem. In the card.” She said bashfully as she clasped her hands together, then distracted herself by threading her fingers through Pearl’s soft fur. 

“You wrote it?” He grinned, watching as she nodded her head, “So I have an original Kim Mayfield?” He teased her, but fully meant it. Her poem was sweet, cute. And very cheesy. But it was personal. It was clearly about him. He’d never been compared to the sun before, but he sort of liked it. He’d have to put it up. 

“Stop,” She said as she held her hands up to her bright red face, “It’s embarrassing. I didn’t know if you’d really like it or not.” She whispered shyly, looking like she was seconds from crawling underneath the bed. He shook his head in disbelief. It was all perfect. He couldn’t ask for more from her. 

“I love it,” He told her seriously as he kissed the side of her cheek again, “And I really love these peanut butter clusters. Thank you.” He added, watching the way she flushed all over again. She paused as she pulled one of the boxes of candy free from her basket. 

“These are so good,” She said, eating candy heart after candy heart, “Do you want one?” She asked, offering him a red one. He quickly shook his head. Those were definitely all sugar. He didn’t need that, too sweet for his teeth. 

“No thank you,” He told her softly, “What are you going to wear? I have big plans for tonight.” He mumbled as he nuzzled his way into the crook of her neck. She held onto him, brushing her fingers through his curls softly. He sighed deeply, enjoying the sensation. 

“You do?” She asked brightly, “Like what?” She asked, giggling softly as he began to pepper kisses against the sensitive spot on her neck. He rubbed his fingers across the side of her waist, rubbing her skin gently. 

“Some of it is a surprise,” He said with a smile, “But we’re going out. And I rented a hotel.” He sighed, inhaling the scent of cherries against her skin. He wondered how she always managed to smell so sweet, just a little tart. He liked that. 

“Did our parents mind?” She asked softly as she leaned her cheek against the top of his head. He supposed he should move away, but he liked the feeling of her skin against his own. It was comforting. “Mom didn’t,” He told her truthfully, leaving out the conversation about Rosemary’s suggestion. Perhaps he’d tease her about it later, but not right yet, “It will be fun. Come on.” 

//////////////////////////////////////////

“Here’s the money for the pizza,” Sam said as he pulled cash out, waving it towards Russell before he set it down on the counter, “And the number of the restaurant if you guys need us.” He said, furrowing his eyebrows together as he pushed his glasses up his nose again. He was dressed nicely, but Rosemary kept going behind him to tuck his shirt back into his pants. 

“Got it.” Russell responded as he continued to work on the Lego set he was building. It was supposedly a king’s castle. For whatever reason, it held his interest.

They’d all spent turns talking to Max on the phone, wishing her a Happy Birthday despite her being clearly annoyed. They had somehow managed to gather around the phone, all of them singing into it. He could practically feel her anger and embarrassment seeping through the line. It was funny. 

“We can get a picture of you,” Kim said quickly, “You both look cute. It would be nice.” Billy turned towards her, admiring her all over again. Her dress was a little older, perhaps from the fifties. It was white, with little red polka dots covered across it. It was tighter around her waist, then fluffed out towards her knees where it ended. Her shoulders were exposed and there were three different sections across the dress which held a red bow and ribbon. Her hair was in thick curls, framed out of her face. 

“Oh, sure,” Rosemary said brightly, “Get over here, Sam.” She said happily as she pulled Sam forward. Her dress ended at her feet, had small straps and was covered in different floral patterns. 

“Oh, joy,” Sam said as he looped his arm around her waist, “I hope you’re getting my good side.” He said playfully as he turned towards Billy. He shook his head, holding up the camera so he could get a good picture of the two of them. 

“Ha,” He responded dryly, “There you go.” He replied as he pulled it free, giving it a good shake before handing it towards them. Sam took it, grinning as he showed it off towards Rosemary. 

“Russell,” Rosemary snapped her fingers towards him, gaining his attention instantly, “Make sure you get a picture of Kim and Billy before they leave.” She said, nodding her head as Russell’s nose curled up in annoyance. 

“Okay, okay,” He said quickly, “I won’t forget!” He shouted as he waved his little Lego man around. Billy shook his head, watching as Sam and Rosemary began to head towards the door. 

“Good,” She said as she kissed the top of his head, then made her rounds towards Kim and Billy, “Everyone be safe. Call us when you get to the hotel.” She said sternly, pointing towards the two of them so they wouldn’t forget. 

“We will,” Kim replied with a smile, “We promise.” She nodded her head as she turned to look at Billy, the curve of her lips growing as he pulled her closer. He was pretty crazy about her. 

“Have fun,” Sam said as he walked out after Rosemary, “But not too much fun!” He said, laughing as he sent them both a wink. Kim flushed, almost matching the red on her dress as Billy rolled his eyes in annoyance. 

“Gross.” Russell spoke up as he wrinkled his lips up in disgust. He shivered, looking like he might vomit before he turned back to his Legos. 

“We better go,” Billy said quickly, determined to not be late, “I made dinner reservations.” He told her for the first time, grinning as he revealed the news. It would be special, not some ordinary restaurant. He supposed they could go somewhere fancy for once. 

“What?” She turned towards him quickly, her eyebrows furrowing together as she parted her lips in confusion. He stalled for just a moment. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked her seriously, hoping that he hadn’t done something wrong. She paused as she bit down on her glossed lips, then smoothed her hands over the puffy part of her dress. 

“I made dinner reservations,” She said, smiling sheepishly, “Where did you set it up at?” She asked, making him laugh as he realized they hadn’t planned this very well. It was better to be over prepared, than not at all. 

“This pasta place,” He said as he kissed her nose, “What about you?” He mused as he held onto her, flattered that she had thought so strongly about this as well. He shouldn’t be surprised.

“A steakhouse,” She giggled softly, “I figured you’d like that.” She shrugged her shoulders, her cheeks forming a slight pink color as she fretted with the ends of her curls. 

“Well what sounds better?” He asked her a second later, wondering what she would prefer to eat. It should be something they agreed on, but she was certainly the pickier one. 

“I’m okay with whatever.” She said gently, smiling like she meant it. He scoffed softly, really not wanting to be the one to decide this time. He wanted to go wherever she wanted to go. 

“Kim.”

“Rock, paper, scissors for it?” She asked as she turned towards him, her eyes flashing in amusement as she laid her suggestion out. He thought about it for a moment, deciding it was the one way she’d pick it out. He wondered if he should move his hands a little slower, just to make her purposely win. 

“Fine,” He said as he held his hand up, “You ready?” She nodded her head, confirming her answer as they began to tap their fists against their palms. 

“Ha,” She said as she looked up with a grin, “You win. Pasta it is.” She said as she let his palm cover her fist. He shook his head, deciding that it was fair after all. 

Russell took their picture and they waited just a little bit longer until Tommy appeared. It was a little harder trying to get out of the house after that, as he apparently had much he wanted to talk about. Billy, at the moment, really didn’t care. 

The car ride there was pleasant as he kept the music a little lower, choosing to listen to her ramble about her school projects instead. He liked listening to her talk about school, and liked hearing about how smart she was. Sometimes he wished he could pick apart her mind and study it. Gently. He’d never want to harm her. 

“Here we are,” He said as he held the door open for her, smiling as she stuck her feet out towards him, “Don’t kick me now.” He teased her, watching the way her shoes almost struck him. They had a slight heel to them, leaving them the same height. 

“I wouldn’t do it on purpose,” She protested with a hint of a smile, “Purely accidental.” She promised him as she took his hand, letting him pull her forward. She grinned, holding his hand tightly as they moved across the street. 

“I’m sure,” He said as he held onto her waist, looking at how busy it was inside, “You’re clumsy sometimes, you know that?” He reminded her, feeling like he should keep her in bubble wrap sometimes. It was alright. Just another thing to love her for. 

“You may have mentioned that before,” She said with a smile, slotting up towards him as another couple slid in behind them, “It just means I have you to patch me up later.” She teased as she nudged her shoulder against his. 

“I don’t mind that at all,” He said as they waited in line for a few moments, “Reservation for Hargrove.” He said as he pulled her close, watching the way her eyes darted around at the crowds. He held onto her, giving her a soft squeeze before they followed the waitress. 

They sat near the windows, giving them a clear view into the busy street life. The moon was out, high in the air as a faint darkness slipped through the crowds. He pushed in her chair for her, determined to be as sweet as he could tonight. He wiped his hands against his pants out of nerves. He’d never been this close to someone before, never quite this nervous. He wondered if this was how she had felt on their first few dates. 

“What do you want?” He asked her as he pulled his menu forward, struggling with it for a moment before he got it held straight once again. He pressed it up to his nose, hoping that she couldn’t see how nervous he was suddenly. 

“I think the-,” She paused as she looked over it, “Chicken alfredo. That sounds really good.” She squinted her eyes, dropping her lips for just as second as she nodded her head. She looked quite proud of her answer as she shut the menu, as she had already read through all of it. 

“You should add mushrooms to it.” He teased her as he flicked his eyes over the various items. He ignored the prices on the menu, hoping that she had done the same thing. He really wanted it to be special for her. 

“I’m not feeling that risky,” She said with a giggle, “What about you?” She asked as she pressed her elbows on the table, then rested her chin onto her fists. He wished he had brought his camera with him. She looked too pretty for her own good. He couldn’t wait to use the video camera on her. 

“We should share the arancini balls,” He said as he watched the way the lights danced off of her features, “I think I want the chicken piccata.” He said as he shut the menu, then slowly reached forward to snag hers. He didn’t want her to look over it and change her mind. 

“That sounds good,” She said as she clasped her fingers together, “I’m really happy we’re doing this.” She said sweetly, lips pressed softly together as she watched him. He felt warm inside, tingly as if he might explode if she continued to look at him that way. 

“Me too,” Billy started, then paused as the waitress came to take their order. He repeated it all back, noticing the way Kim began to tug on the ends of her hair. She was still shy around people, even just to tell her order. She was too damn cute, “What do you think they’re fighting about?” He whispered as he secretly gestured towards the couple a few tables away from them. 

“Hm,” Kim paused for a moment, “She’s mad because he mixed up her present with his mistresses one.” She said at last, narrowing her eyes as she glanced towards them. He raised his eyebrows, surprised by her answer. 

“Damn,” He said with a laugh, “That’s just fucked up.” He said with a laugh as he sipped on his Coke. He tried not to think about the bottle of whiskey in his car. He’d have to get rid of it. Soon. He didn’t want her to find it, to be disappointed in him. 

“What?” She giggled with a flushed expression, “You told me to guess.” She defended herself as she tucked her hair behind her ears. He nodded along with her, figuring that she might not be too far away. 

“I think-,” He said slowly as he examined them again, “She just told him she’s pregnant, but he’s sterile.” He said, raising the cards as he faced her again. It was her turn to raise her eyebrows in surprise as she faced him again. 

“And you said mine was bad,” She grinned softly, “How will we ever know the truth?” She lowered herself once again as the waitress appeared, dropping off their appetizer before she disappeared again. Kim paused as she reached forward and grabbed one of the balls, inspecting it before she took a bite. 

“We won’t,” He grinned at her, “But that’s not so bad.” He told her, admiring the way she slowly chewed the food around in her mouth. She nodded her head a second later, giving her approval towards him. 

Their food arrived a few minutes later, cutting off his story about how Steve had told him about working at whichever restaurant he was currently at. Billy had thought it would be something funny, because it was. Kim was more excited about the prospect, promising that he would do good. 

“It’s so good,” She said as she munched on her noodles, “Do you want some?” She had them scooped messily onto her fork, her eyes wide with hope as he eventually felt himself giving in. 

“Sure,” He chuckled as he leaned over, letting her spoon a big bite into his mouth, “That is nice. Do you want to try this?” He asked her playfully, showing his plate off. She looked at it for a moment before she shook her head. 

“No thanks,” She said with a laugh, “I’m getting so full.” She brushed him off as she continued to eat, playfully slurping on her noodles. He leaned forward to wipe some of the sauce from the corner of her lips. 

“No room for dessert?” He teased her, knowing fully well that she’d always have room for something sweet. Her eyes lit up as she looked at him, like it was Christmas all over again. 

“Can we take it with us?” She asked him seriously as she brushed her thumbs across the edge of the plate. He tilted his head back and forth, pretending to think about it. 

“I suppose,” He said with a chuckle, “What do you want?” He asked her, turning the smaller dessert menu a little closer to him. He was still a little worried that she’d fret over the prices. He really didn’t want her to worry about that tonight. 

“The cheesecake kind of sounds good.” She admitted as she flicked her eyes back and forth. She pressed her lips together, thinking for a moment like she really wasn’t sure. 

“What about the chocolate strawberries?” He suggested, “Those are really good.” He told her seriously. He thought that she would really like them as well. It would be easy to take with them and share too. 

“Sure,” She smiled, “If you think that will be best.” She said, as agreeable as ever. He watched her curiously for a moment, admiring her soft lines and curves. He really had a hard time believing that he was here with her right now. 

“It will be.” He teased her, sending a wink in her direction. He waited until the waitress returned to repeat what they’d decided on, then worked on wiggling his wallet out of his pants when she brought the boxes and receipt over. 

“Oh my God,” Kim exclaimed once the waitress walked away as she snagged the receipt. Her face went pale, her eyes wide like she might collapse onto the floor, “This is so expensive. Oh my God. This is insane.”

“It’s fine,” He told her quickly, trying to calm her down before she hyperventilated, “It’s one night. It won’t kill me.” He reassured her as he began to skim through his cash. In all honesty, it wasn’t that expensive. But he was fairly certain that she had never spent this much money on something before. 

“I have to pay too,” She said as she gulped hard, “Or if we don’t have enough maybe they’ll let us do some work, or we can-,” She began to ramble off, but he stopped her; not wanting her to jump to conclusions. 

“I have the money,” He clarified gently a second later, “And it’s fine. Really. I wanted to do something special for you tonight.” He told her as he nodded his head, watching the slow way she exhaled. She nodded along, but still looked flustered about it. He couldn’t blame her. She’d never had much money growing up, it was probably a shock. 

He paid for the meal despite her protests, then held onto her hand as they walked around town for a little bit. Once they tired they headed back to his car, but he wasn’t through with night just yet. 

“Can we be on the beach this late?” She asked him, holding her shoes in one hand as she walked through the sand. He held onto their box of strawberries, a blanket loosely thrown over his shoulder.

“Who's going to stop us?” He asked her seriously. He knew that no one would really be out over here, especially officers. It was too dark, a little too chill. They’d have it all to themselves for right now. 

“You’re funny,” She said as she bumped her shoulder against him, “It’s nice out here.” She said as she looked around. She looked like she fitted in with the moonlight dancing against her skin. 

He set out the blanket, then kicked his shoes off next. He didn’t have plans on getting in the water, but supposed it wouldn’t be that bad either. Perhaps just a little chilly, but they could survive it if they chose to do it.

He scooped out the leftover box, opening it to expose the chocolate covered strawberries. He grinned as he held one up to her mouth, watching the way she exposed her shiny teeth and took a bite from it. 

“You were right,” She said as she nodded her head, taking another bite from the chocolate covered strawberry, “These are better than the cheesecake.” He nodded his head as he finished off the rest of the strawberry, then tossed the end of it back into the box. 

“If you could only eat one dessert for the rest of your life-.” He drew out dramatically as he turned towards her, lying lazily on the towel, “What would it be?”

“That’s an evil question.” She told him seriously, grinning as she took another bite out of one. She chewed it around for a moment, thinking deeply to herself. 

“I have a dire need to know your answer.” He said teasingly, but fully meant it. He was sure that there had to be a favorite dessert that she loved, that she hadn’t revealed to him just yet. 

“I guess it would have to be-,” She paused as she thought about it once again, “I really think strawberry cake. Especially if it has that sweet, cream cheese frosting. I really like ice cream too.”

“Mint chocolate chip?” He questioned as he cocked his eyebrows, “You know, that’s an odd choice.” He told her seriously, thinking about how mint often tasted like toothpaste to him. 

“What?” She asked, sounding a little offended, “The ice cream?” She narrowed her eyes a little bit, inspecting if her suspicions were correct. She pointed a strawberry towards him playfully, grinning as he leaned forward to take a bite from it. 

“Yes,” He nodded his head, “But that with the strawberry cake. You always picked that for your birthday.” He said as he recounted how many times they’d done that for her birthday. He didn’t understand how she thought the two flavors could blend together. They didn’t; not at all. 

“That’s because it’s my favorite,” She said as she held her chin high towards him, “And I think the flavors really compliment each other.” She replied with a smile as she discarded the stem of the strawberry. He shook his head softly at her reasoning. 

“Mhm,” He hummed as he leaned forward, stealing a kiss from her lips, “I’ll let it slide because you’re cute.” He told her as he brushed his thumb across her slightly cool cheek. He smiled as she nuzzled her face up against his. 

“What’s your favorite sweet?” She asked him as she inhaled deeply against his skin. She smelt sweet. She felt soft. He liked that about her. 

“I like pie, I guess,” He said as he shrugged his shoulders, “You know the strawberry rhubarb. Or peanut butter if I’m feeling frisky.” He said teasingly. He’d rather eat something savory, salty or maybe even spicy if he had the choice. The sugary sweets just weren’t his thing. 

“Oh, is that what you call it?” She said as she curled up towards him a little bit, “It’s nice out.” She told him as she snuggled her way closer to him. He pulled her deeper, nearly onto his lap as they listened to the waves crashing against the shore. 

“You feel cold.” He told her seriously as he rubbed his large palms across her exposed shoulders. She felt really chill. He squeezed at her skin softly, not wanting her to get sick. 

“You’re warm,” She said in response, “This is nice.” She sighed softly as she looked up towards the sky, her eyes dark as the colors molded into the night sky. He glanced up, wondering if she had any fun constellation stories to tell him. 

“Maybe we could get a house on the beach one day,” He said as he pushed her hair from her face, “And we could sit out here at night.” He said softly, thinking about what they’d be like in a few years. It was odd to think about getting that old with someone, because he had been certain that at one point he’d be alone forever. 

“That would be fun,” She said softly as she looked up towards him, “Maybe we could make a bonfire.” She suggested, her eyes flashing with color as she suggested it towards him. He chuckled as he played with her loose strands. 

“Mhm,” He hummed along, “And we could go skinny dipping.” He replied cheekily, sending her a wink that quickly left her flushed. She shook her head, giggling like she still couldn’t believe he’d suggest such a thing. 

“Oh gosh,” She said as she rolled her eyes, grinning gently, “Of course you’d say that.” She pointed at his ribs softly, making him jerk as he felt a sudden urge to laugh. He pressed her fingers away gently, not wanting her to tickle him. 

“Here,” He said as he gave her the last strawberry, distracting her by shoving it in her mouth so she couldn’t focus on the way he almost laughed, “You ready to go?” He asked, watching the way she held her manicured nails up to her lips. 

“Mhm,” She said as she nodded her head, furrowing her eyebrows together as she tried to chew down the large bite, “That was a lot.” She breathed out, cheeks full as her words came out into mumbles. He chuckled as he poked the side of her cheek, nodding as he began to gather everything up. 

The drive to the hotel was short, not far away from the beach. Kim shuffled back into her Mary Jane’s, her dress slightly sandy as he led her inside. He carried their bags, grinning as she looked around curiously. It wasn’t the fanciest thing, but it was better than the motel at Hawkins. 

“Uh, I had a room reservation,” He said as he tapped his fingers against the desk, “For William Hargrove.” He said as he waited for a moment, going through the rest of the process before he paid for the room. 

The worker moved the key towards them, giving a soft smile before they turned away. Billy handed the key towards her; picked up the bags and then headed towards the elevator. The lobby was fairly empty, meaning that people were either already in their rooms or hadn’t arrived yet.

“William?” Kim teased him, “How formal.” She said as she bumped her shoulder against his. He snickered, trying to ignore the flames on his cheeks as she rested her chin on top of his shoulder. 

“Shut it, Kimberly.” He sassed back playfully as he hit the button to the sixth floor, then reached around to squeeze at her waist. William just sounded more mature than what Billy did. She snuggled up to him again, breathing in softly as the elevator took them up and up. 

“Can I?” She asked as she held the key up towards her face, grinning excitedly as they stopped in front of the room. He watched her in amusement, wondering how she could be so excited over something so small. 

“That’s why I handed it to you,” He said with a smile, “It’s all yours.” He took a step back as he gestured towards the door, leaving her room to do her thing. He watched the way her dress moved against her thighs, how her features lit up as she got the door unlocked and then opened. 

“Wow,” She said as she looked around, “This is nice.” She nodded her head softly, staring at the photos on the walls. His attention was quickly turned towards the little bottles on the dresser, recognizing right away what they were. 

“Very nice,” He said, trying to keep calm as he leaned in front of the dresser, “You want to freshen up first?” He asked as he put his hand on his hip, mentally cursing himself. He didn’t think to ask about removing them beforehand. 

“We’re taking turns?” She asked, making him shrug his shoulders as he did his best to keep nonchalant, “Sure.” She grinned as she grabbed her bag and walked towards the bathroom. 

He worked quickly, glancing around the room for what he might be able to hide them in. He didn’t want to act like he didn’t trust her, but he didn’t want her to be tempted either. He searched until he finally found a paper bag. 

“Can I come out now?” Her voice rang from the bathroom, making him jump as he searched for a way to quickly discard them. He furrowed his eyebrows as he worked quickly to get rid of them. 

“Uh,” He said as he shuffled them into the paper bag quickly, twisting the top of it tightly before he could find somewhere to hide the little bottles, “Yeah! I’m um, totally ready.” He said as he shoved the bag underneath the bed, deciding it would be the best place to keep them. 

She walked out, her cheeks red as she tugged her hair behind her ears. She had fixed her hair, making the curls fall back into place as she slowly approached him. He stared for the longest time, trying to find the words to speak. 

“When did you get this?” He asked her softly, brushing his fingers across the tiny black straps on her slender shoulders. He dragged his finger down the strap, following it over the curve of her perky tit. The lacy black material barely covered her boobs and left a vast amount of skin revealed down her ribs. 

He could feel his cock springing to life in his jeans as he looked at the little red bow that was resting between her tits before he moved his hand further down. It was scandalous, the sides of it cut up high to reveal her soft hips. Her pussy was barely covered, hidden away by only a small section of lace. He slowly rubbed his palm against her side, admiring her soft ass. 

“Secret,” She said softly, grinning shyly as she started to play with her hair. She looked sexy, beautiful. But he could tell that she was uncomfortable with what she was wearing, “Do you like it?” She whispered, looking a little nervous as she glanced towards him.

“Mhm,” He mumbled as he tapped his finger against her chin, tilting her head up just a bit to ghost his lips over hers, “Do you want to see your other gift?” He asked her, watching the way her eyes flickered up in surprise. 

“You shouldn’t have-,” She began to protest, shaking her head as he pressed his finger against her lips. He’d thought of something similar, following her mindset.

“Shh,” He mumbled, smirking as he let himself grope his rough palms over her smooth ass, “Just try it on.” He said, doing his best to keep from grinding himself forward against her slender thighs. He wanted to desperately feel her. 

“Okay,” She said bashfully as she glanced at him, biting her lip as she bent over to grab the bag. He groaned, pressing a palm over his growing bulge. He chewed on his bottom lip, trying to keep his groans to himself as he teased himself while she pulled the outfit free, “Oh. Wow. it’s beautiful.”

“You wanna wear it?” He asked her, tilting his head as he watched the way her features wrinkled up in delight as she continued to stare at it. He had a feeling she would like it. He had spent a lot of time thinking of her in it. 

“Can I?” She asked as she turned towards him nervously, blinking at him with those big hazel eyes that drove him crazy. He nodded his head, eyes glued to her slender curves as she took off the skimpy black material and slid the new one on, “What do you think?”

He drifted his eyes over the thicker white straps, the big bow that rested just above her boobs. From there down it was a sheer light green, leaving him with just enough to see the curve of her body. He flicked his tongue across his bottom lip as he stared at her hardened nipples, at the slight tuft of hair across her cunt. The dress ended mid thigh, matching the white material that was at the top of the dress. She looked more comfortable as she twisted around, grinning proudly as her cheeks burned brightly. It was very much her. 

“You look beautiful,” He told her as he leaned against the dresser, smirking as he motioned her towards him, “C’mere. Let me see you.” He told her, eyes ravenous at the slow way she approached him. 

He pressed his hands against the sheer material gently, touching her hips gently as he smoothed it down over her sides. She was stunning, leaving his cock aching in a way he didn’t think was possible. He drifted his eyes back up towards her, enjoying the way her face continued to burn. 

He kissed her deeply, keeping his hands across her slender jaw as he held her close. He savored the feeling of her pouty lips against hers, of the way they dragged against his own. She tasted sweet, like cherries. The taste of her drove him crazy, made him want more as her hands ghosted along his biceps.

She moaned as he pressed his thumb into the curve of her neck, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue between her parted lips. It was messy, sloppy as he brushed his tongue against hers. She twitched against his tongue as he spread his tongue through her mouth, licking away her saliva and moans as she began to rut her hips forward.

“Mhm,” He mumbled as he snagged his teeth against her bottom lip, enjoying the gasp that fell from her tongue, “You’re so pretty, wanna feel you. S’that what you want?” He asked as he brushed his nose against hers, enjoying the way she pressed herself closer to him. 

“Yeah,” She breathed out against his mouth, tasting like the sweet strawberries they’d eaten earlier, “I want you so badly.” She whispered sweetly, eyes flashing with lust as she palmed at his cock. He hissed this time, staring down at the way she grasped him.

She stripped him slowly, like she was taking her time as he pulled free his shirt. She kissed at the crook of his neck, making him shiver as she brushed her fingertips along his spine. She moved her hands across his ribs, continuing to suck at his skin before she moved her hands down further.

She was slow to remove his belt, making him smile a little bit as he cupped her cheeks and kissed her once again. She was fumbling, but he was in no rush. He wanted to savor each little second with her. 

She finally got it removed, looping it free so roughly that she almost smacked herself in the face. Her eyes grew wide as she stared at it, laughing as she looked up at him. He grinned as he brushed his fingers through her hair, thinking about how crazy she made him feel.

“Gently,” She said with a soft smile, her cheeks reddening as she slowly wrapped her fingers around his cock. He hissed softly at the sensation, groaning as he felt himself hardening against her simple touch. She drove him crazy, “S’pretty.” She said softly as she slowly moved her hand along the length of his cock.

“You’re pretty,” He told her softly, cupping her chin as he slowly jerked his hips forward against her touch. He enjoyed the feeling of her hand, but didn’t want to get himself too distracted. He wanted to tease her first, get her a little wild and frisky, “And naughty.” He teased, gripping her hands and pushing her down onto the bed before she could protest.

He grinned as he crawled over her, looking at the way her eyebrows furrowed together as she parted her lips to protest. He ignored her words, kissing her deeply as he drifted his hands down to her sides. He squeezed at her skin before he moved towards her clothed tits, massaging them in her hands.

“I’m good,” She whimpered against his lips, her eyes hazy as she stared up at him, “Really good.” She pressed her lips together, looking like she was close to pouting. He did his best to keep from laughing, fully amused with how she always wanted to be good in his eyes. 

“Are you?” He continued to tease her as he moved his fingers up towards her chin, cupping her skin softly before he dragged his thumb across her pouty lips. He breathed in gently, admiring how smooth they were under his thumb. 

“Mhm.” She said softly, puckering her lips together as she kissed his thumb softly. She watched him, sliding his thumb in further as she began to suck on it. She slid her legs out from underneath them, spreading them wide as she swirled her tongue across the length of his digit. 

He pulled away slowly, watching the trail of spit that was left in his wake before he pushed her further up the bed. He grinned as he played with the hem of the dress, touching it gently before he pushed it up towards her belly button.

He kissed her skin softly, then licked down towards her pretty pussy. He brushed his fingers across her pink folds, earning a gasp from her as he continued to kiss around her clit. He breathed in her sweet musk, having a dire need to bury himself beneath her legs.

“Does this feel good?” He teased her as he pressed his thumb against her clit, pressing down softly and then rubbing in the small circles that she enjoyed. She moaned, her eyes already shut from the simple movements. He bit down on her thigh softly, enjoying the way she jumped surprise.

“Yes,” She whined as she brushed her fingers through his hair. He groaned at the sensation, licking at the teeth marks on her skin as he continued to play with her clit, “Feels really good.” She breathed out, eyes opening as she turned her gaze down towards him.

He moved his hands away, gripping her thighs and pushing them up towards her chest so she was fully exposed to him. Her face burned as a smirk formed on his lips. He felt like he could read her, like he knew what she was thinking.

He pressed his lips against her folds softly, inhaling as he flicked his tongue out against her. He licked away her slick messily, letting himself drool onto her cunt to make it even more dirty. He enjoyed the sounds from her mouth, but even more the sounds of her slippery folds against his mouth. 

He moved his lips down further, licking as he went before he spread his fingertips down between her cheeks. He spread the mixture of his saliva, or her slick against her rim. Her body shook in response, always a little jolty when he teased her. 

He spit repeatedly against her hole, admiring the way it glimmered before he swirled his saliva across her hole. He briefly pressed a kiss against her clit again before he slid his finger inside of her puckered hole. He moved slowly, recognizing it had been some time as he waited as she adjusted around his thick digit. He mumbled under his breath, savoring the taste of her pretty cunt on his tongue.

Her moans were loud, slightly shrill as he curled his finger inside of her. He slowly pumped it in and out as he traced his tongue along her pussy again, chuckling softly at the way she began to grind her hips up against his mouth. 

“So needy,” He teased her as he glanced towards her, using his free hand to hold down on her hip, “Relax, baby sister. Let me take care of you.” He mocked her softly, enjoying the way her cheeks flushed as he began to curl his fingers deeper inside of her. 

He pressed his lips against her clit again, licking languidly as she continued to slowly wiggled against his mouth. He groaned as he flicked his tongue out against her clit repeatedly, earning a loud cry from her. 

He pressed his thumb inside of her cunt slowly, just gently pressing inside of her while he continued to grind his fingers up into her puckered hole. She whimpered loudly, leaving him groaning into her folds as he did his best to keep from rutting against the mattress. Just the sound of her was able to drive him crazy, made him feel like he could cum by just her sounds. 

He slid his tongue in against his thumb, curling it inside deeper as he began to lick against her walls. He moved his fingers roughly, enjoying the way she began to clamp down against his digit as his nose began to rub against her clit. 

“Billy!” She moaned loudly, her cries bouncing off of the walls as her movements against his tongue became more desperate. He curled his tongue in deeper, flicking at her spongy walls as he continued to grind his fingers further into her hole. His tongue was pressed against her clit, her slick smearing all across his face as he licked away the remnants of her. 

He chuckled, unable to help himself as he watched the way her chest quickly rose and fell. Her skin was flushed and warm as he kissed up her body slowly. He brushed his thumb across her exposed skin, pressing his thigh between her legs as he slid his lips across her pretty collarbone. 

“So good for me,” He mumbled as he reached her lips, kissing her gently as she continued to fight to catch her breath. He sat up a bit, reaching back onto the edge of the bed before he joined her again, “Do you trust me?”

“More than anyone else.” She said as he hooked the belt around her neck, thinking that in some odd way it looked like she belonged. She was his, like he was hers. She chewed on her bottom lip, looking exhilarated as she watched him.

He grinned at her, squeezing her chin once again before he moved away from her. He settled on his knees for a moment, smacking against the side of her thighs gently until she moved onto her hands and knees.

She giggled softly, the sound slightly muffled until she pulled herself up onto her elbows. She looked back towards him, her eyes full and round as he moved behind her. He pressed his rough palms underneath her dress, wiggling himself closer as his cock ached in anticipation. 

He exhaled slowly as he dragged the tip of his cock between her wet folds, teasing them both for just a moment before he pressed himself inside of her. He sighed deeply, doing his best to keep from slamming into her as he savored the way her walls stretched around his girth. 

She was soft, warm and wet all at once as he thrusted his cock deeper inside of her. She moaned from underneath him as he drifted his hands up the curve of her spine, admiring the way his cock disappeared inside of her tight cunt as he moved his fingers to the back of her neck.

He looped his fingers lazily through the belt, giving a soft squeeze as he pulled his hips back and then thrusted his cock deep inside of her spongy walls once again. He groaned in bliss, her body trembling underneath his as he began to build a steady rhythm. 

“Look at you,” He tsked, pushing the material of her dress up over her hips to admire the way her ass moved as he dragged her back against the length of his cock, “Mhm, such a dirty girl. Taking my cock so well.” He exhaled roughly, pleasure rushing through his body at the way her cunt squeezed his girth. 

“Yeah,” She cried out, whimpering as she tossed her head back lazily. He tugged on the belt a little harder, making her whine as he dragged her body up against his, “Oh, God!” She whimpered, cheeks red as he held onto her.

“Mhm,” He mumbled as he brought his other hand against her tits, squeezing the right one roughly in his hand as he continued to jerk his hips forward, “Such a dirty little bitch. You like that, don’t you?” He huffed out as he brushed his nose against her neck, enjoying the way she shivered against him. 

“Yes!” She whined louder this time, moaning in awe as he felt his thrusts growing a little more frantic, “More, more. I want more.” He groaned as he felt her leaking around him, the sound of her cunt squeezing his cock echoing in the room. 

He grunted as he continued to grind his cock deeper inside of her, earning a fresh wave of moans from her lips. He tugged on the belt a little bit, pulling her mouth towards his. He kissed her roughly, enjoying how his lips vibrated from her moans. 

She rocked herself along the length of his cock, whining as she flicked her tongue against his. Her eyes were wide, her lips plump as she pressed herself back against him. He could feel himself throbbing inside of her, his own pleasure spreading through his body as he felt himself sliding deeper inside of her. 

“Greedy little thing, aren’t ya?” He grinned as he cupped her chin, using his thumb to wipe away the drool from the corner of her lips, “Your pretty cunt is squeezing me so tight, making me feel so good. You hear her?” He muttered as he dragged his fingers across her clit. She jolted, crooning from the sensation.

“Yeah,” She whimpered, shaking as he felt his thrusts becoming deeper and rougher. He grazed his teeth along her cheek, his cock aching as he felt his orgasm growing closer and closer, “Jesus, Billy! Right there!” She whined as she bounced along his cock, making rough groans leave his mouth.

He pressed his brows tightly together, trying to stay concentrated as he met her rapid movements. He licked his bottom lip, watching the way his cock slid deep inside of her cunt. He grunted, spilling out a series of curses before he quickly removed his cock.

It took one swift jerk of his hand before he was cumming on her pale ass, covering her milky thighs with his white spunk. He hissed softly, his cock twitching in his hand as thick ropes continued to pain her skin. 

“Fuck,” He hissed, groaning as he pushed her back down onto the mattress. He reached his fingers messily between her legs, brushing his fingertips across her clit roughly, “S’good for me. S’okay, baby.” He praised her, urging her orgasm from her. 

She cried out even louder, gripping the sheets tightly as she turned her head towards the side. Her eyes were shut, lips parted as she twitched underneath him. He groaned, wishing he could feel her spongy walls cumming around his girth. 

He pressed down against her abdomen, keeping her hips still as he began to rub his fingertips across her clit roughly. She squirmed and whined, crying out as her legs twitched uncontrollably. He grunted in concentration, admiring the way her pussy felt on his fingers and the wet sound that filled the room.

“Jesus!” She squeaked out, eyes shut tightly and eyebrows furrowed together as she pressed her hips forward. He looked up at her, admiring the pleasure that spread across her features. She was the prettiest woman she’d ever seen. She came with a cry, her liquid squirting out towards him and coating his hand. He grunted at the feeling, at the sight. He was sure he’d never seen something so sexy before. 

“Fuck,” He groaned as he continued to rub his fingers against her clit, “God. Look at you, messy girl. Dirty little slut.” He came to a slow halt, listening to her soft whimpers and cries as her body shook underneath him. He smirked as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, licking them clean.

“What?” She asked curiously, eyes hazy and glossed over as she blinked at him in confusion. She was breathing hard again, her mouth barely opening as she turned towards him lazily.

“I didn’t say anything,” He said with a laugh, watching the way she slowly exhaled, “Stay here. I’ll get you cleaned up.” He promised as he stood, heading towards the bathroom and quickly warming up a warm washcloth.

He returned quickly, trying not to laugh at the lazy way she was still trying to hold her bottom high in the air. He was sure the position was a little uncomfortable, well, possibly a lot. He hummed as he joined her at the edge of the bed again. 

“Are you alright?” He asked as he slowly cleaned her up. He was gentle across her folds and clit, noticing the way she jolted again. He wiped his cum from her ass next, moving carefully so it didn’t smear. 

“I feel like I could sleep forever,” She said with a tired smile, “What about you?” She asked, humming softly as he tossed the rag towards the corner of the room. He smacked her bottom softly, laughing at the way she lazily fell onto her side.

“I’m tired too,” He agreed, leaning over again to wrap his arms around her waist. She groaned as she wrapped her legs around his waist, protesting for just a moment as he lifted her up. He held onto her with one arm, using the other to pull the sheets back before he laid her down, “Did you have a good time?”

“Best Valentine's Day Ever,” She promised as she slowly pushed the dress back over her thighs. She was apparently too attached to it, not wanting to take it off, “What about you?” She asked hesitantly, like she was afraid of his answer.

“You’re the first one I’ve taken out for Valentine’s Day,” He promised as he climbed in next to her. He’d get up and brush his teeth in a moment, for now, he just wanted to soak in the feeling of her against him, “I love you.” He told her, fully meaning it as he thought of how he’d have to try and top this day every single year. It would be hard, but worth it. 

[hslllot]

A Soft Place to Fall - Part I

Story List 

Word count: 3.6k // Rated M // harry x reader

Note: Wowowow ok! So, here’s the first part of what will be a multi-part story. It is just a short lil introduction to our duo... The second part isn’t too far away either :) I want to thank my bullies motivating friends that encouraged me to write and share this! I love writing but am always painfully nervous about sharing. So please, if you like it, let me know! If you don’t like it you can also let me know but I will probably cry. OK ENJOY :)

Part I

In a cozy log cabin at the base of Mount Yamnuska, Harry found himself in a position he thought he’d never find himself in again.

He was hiding. 

It was something he tended to do after a particularly difficult break up: Flee to a different country, alone, to write and sulk and ponder how he always managed to screw things up. 

Jamaica. Japan. Italy. 

Canada.

In the heart of the Canadian rockies, he sat by the fire in his lonely wooden home. There was a winter unlike anything he’d ever experienced outside his window and a mug filled with English tea in front of him. Next to his mug was his journal, open to an empty set of pages, words painfully unwritten. 

He arrived in Calgary by plane this morning, peering out the window to see the bustling and bright landscapes of California transform into blankets of fresh white snow on barren acres of farmland. They flew over the Rocky Mountains and, despite having seen them from above before, he was transfixed by their beauty and size, and he wondered if anyone ever got tired of seeing something so majestic. He had never seen the mountains in the dead of winter, the trees, the ground, and the mountains themselves covered in white while the surrounding frozen glacier lakes remained a brilliant blue. He appreciated the beauty of it all, and under different circumstances he might have turned to the person sitting next to him and urged them to lean over and take a peek out the window too. But his mood soured when he remembered that the person sitting next to him was a stranger, and he was, again, on this trip alone.

Once the plane had landed he sent a quick text to his family group chat and Jeffrey to let them know he’d arrived in one piece. He scrolled through his emails to find all of the different reservations Jeffrey forwarded to him so he could pick up his rental vehicle and begin the 100 kilometre journey to the sleepy mountain town he would be calling home for the next three months. 

The GPS in the rental guided him to the Bow Valley Parkway, the scenic highway that would lead him through Banff National Park and to his destination. As he entered the parkway, he pulled into a designated lookout just past a wooden gate that overhead read “WELCOME BIENVENUE”. Directly in front of him was a cerulean river, frozen over and backed by the most massive snow-capped mountain he had ever seen. He got out of his car, feeling the cold January air like pinpricks across his face, and quickly took a picture of the view. He sent it to his mother and promised to one day come back with her so she could see it for herself.

As he drove further down the Bow Valley, he felt kind of silly for pulling over at the sight of his first mountain when each mountain and lake he passed seemed to be bigger and more beautiful than the last. Eventually, he saw the signs for Mount Yamnuska and turned off the highway onto a long and winding road that would take him to his final destination. With nothing but tall lodgepole pine trees, grey skies, and the crooning voice of Billie Holiday to keep him company, he felt like he was on a different planet. A planet where the trees and the mountain air could filter out all of the negative voices, thoughts, and feelings he’d been privy to in the last few weeks. A planet where he might be able to clear his head long enough to find within it a melody or even a lyric or two. 

Harry wasn’t entirely sure what was waiting for him at the end of the road, only having skimmed the AirBnB listing Jeffrey had emailed him. He called Jeff two days ago, insisting that he needed to get away, to disappear for a bit. Having been in this exact position before with his client/friend, Jeff knew what that meant. His manager remembered seeing videos of aesthetic mountain vacations with rocky lookouts and great big turquoise lakes on TikTok, so he suggested that Harry sequester himself in the mountains. After discussing and agreeing on the destination, Jeff had the trip planned and booked within hours. 

Harry passed plenty of tiny cottages and cabins tucked away in the forest alongside the highway, but as it got darker he focused more on the road ahead and fixed his eyes to watch out for any wildlife (he heard mountain lions were a possibility in the Winter). When he finally made it to his landing place, he was at the end of a long driveway in front of a cabin carved into a landscape of endless conifer trees. The cabin looked small and simple on the outside, the entirety of its exterior made up of orange-tinted pine logs. There was a foot of snow covering everything in sight, save for the walking path from the driveway to a front porch that spanned the width of the cabin. On the porch sat two Muskoka chairs, red, to match the front door. 

Sat in the two chairs waiting for him, unphased by the darkening skies and blowing snow, he presumed were his hosts. 

He exited his car and zipped his jacket all the way past his chin, a lame attempt to shield his face from the wind. As he made his way toward the porch, the older man and woman stood to greet him. Both were dressed in black puffer jackets and knit beanies, perhaps in their mid-to-late fifties. They appeared friendly, wearing bright smiles as they welcomed him to their vacation home.

“You must be Harry”, the man said, reaching out to shake Harry’s hand.

Harry returned the gesture, “Hello, yes, I’m Harry.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Paul and this is my wife, Nancy.” 

“We hope you found the place OK!” Nancy chippered. 

“Thank you, I did.” He said, shaking Nancy’s hand next. “I appreciate you taking me in on such short notice.” 

“Oh, it’s no problem. We actually just had a cancellation before your manager contacted us. Our daughter was supposed to stay here with her partner for the week but their plans changed. So everything was already set up for guests!”

“Lucky for me then.” He said with a smile as Paul took his bag and Nancy moved to open the door to lead them all inside. 

Harry did a quick scan of the inside of the cabin from where he stood in the front entrance. He saw they’d already started a fire in the wood burning stove and spotted a cozy looking armchair where he knew he’d be curling up with his book. “The place looks great.”

“We’re glad you think so. Please, come in, get comfortable. This is your home now for a bit, after all!” Nancy insisted, fussing over him to take off his jacket and shoes. She reminded him a bit of his mother, something about her demeanor making him feel at ease. “You’ve had a long journey so we’ll leave you to get settled in and explore the place. Just a few things though…”

He kicked off his shoes by the door and followed behind the two as they led him past the living room and into the kitchen. 

“We’re going to get more snow tonight and you’re probably tired from your travels,” Nancy opened the refrigerator. “We’ve already stocked the fridge with all of our daughter’s favourites so there’s plenty of food that you can have.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind getting my own.”

“Really, we’d rather it didn’t go to waste.” Paul chimed in. “But of course if there’s anything more you need, there’s some info in that binder on the table about going into town and grocery stores and restaurants and whatnot.”

“Alright, thank you. I really appreciate all this.”

“Of course!” He handed Harry a set of keys on what looked like a moose-head keychain. “Here’s the key. Our house is north of here, about 15 minutes away. So if you need anything just give us a call or text. Our address is in there too just in case.”

Harry bid goodnight to Paul and Nancy and once they were gone he took his bag and scoped out the cabin. It was a simple layout with two bedrooms just off the living room, a full bathroom between the two rooms and the open galley kitchen along the adjacent back wall, opposite the front door. There was a small kitchen island at the center in front of the red kitchen cupboards, and a wooden dining table for two in its own little nook off the kitchen. The cabin had a warm feel to it. The decor, you might say was quintessentially Canadian in the way they leaned into maple-scented candles, wood carvings of mountains hung on the walls, and no shortage of throw blankets and pillows adorned with buffalo plaid. 

Harry dropped his bag into the bedroom closest to the kitchen and was about to start unpacking when his stomach growled. Grateful they had left food for him to eat, he made himself a sandwich and got acquainted with where everything was in the kitchen before unpacking his things. He decided then that after he unpacked he would settle in for the night by the fire, brew some tea and maybe take a stab at writing. 

—————————

You hated driving in the winter. 

Were you competent and experienced enough to deal with the blowing snow and the black ice under your tires? Sure. But that didn't mean you enjoyed it. A lifetime of driving down the Parkway didn’t stop you from gripping the steering wheel so hard your knuckles were white, or straining your eyes in the darkness to avoid missing any moose or elk that might emerge from the trees. 

One thing you did like about road trips was that they were a great opportunity for reflection. You’d been driving for about 3 hours at this point, and had barely listened to the playlist you put on at the start of your journey. You were too busy keeping an eye on the road, or thinking about the last 72 hours, and playing out scenarios in your head where things had gone differently. 

You were exhausted, physically and mentally. Was it really only 72 hours since everything went down? 

You replayed your last conversation with Luke over and over again in your head, hoping that if you went over it enough you could better understand.

“I just can’t do it. Even if I came, I would have to bring work with me and I’d be working the whole time.” 

You were incredulous. Confused. Borderline seething. 

“This trip was supposed to happen last summer, Luke. We’ve postponed it twice already for your job.” 

“I know and I said I’m sorry. I just can’t up and leave right now.” 

“Did you not book off the vacation time? Your boss knows you're supposed to go away. It’s literally one week.” 

“Yes, I booked off the vacation time but I-”

“Well if you’ve booked it off and they gave you the time off what’s the problem?” 

“I just can’t go now, ok?”

“Is it that you can’t go, or that you don’t want to go?” 

That question had been lingering in the back of your mind every time the trip had to be postponed, but you never asked because you were afraid of the answer. You hoped that work really was so busy that he couldn’t take a week off, even though he had the vacation time approved by his boss. You wanted to believe that this was just the reality of being in a relationship with a lawyer. 

The trouble was that you’d been with Luke for two years and he had yet to meet your family. He seemed excited to visit the small mountain town where you grew up, citing that he’d always wanted to visit Banff and the Rocky Mountains. You met his parents and got on well with them and your relationship was moving forward, with talks of moving in together and maybe even a proposal on the horizon. 

However, every time you brought up visiting your family, he put it off and said he was too busy. You would visit home and he would stay back in Vancouver. Eventually he agreed to join you and the trip was booked, but at the last minute he claimed to be in the middle of an important case and couldn’t leave. You rescheduled twice since, and it was looking like you’d be adding a third. 

“Of course I want to go. It’s just not a great time right now.” 

“Is there ever going to be a great time? At some point I’m going to need you to make time for it, Luke.” 

You were beginning to think that he didn’t understand how important your family was to you. He didn’t understand that you needed to see how he fit into your family in order for the relationship to progress. Would he get along with your dad? Would he be kind to your mom? Could he be friends with your brother? You were realizing that maybe his lack of motivation to meet your family and see your home was all you needed to know. 

Before he could respond, you added “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” 

Of course over the last 72 hours you doubted yourself constantly. Had you overreacted? Should you have been more understanding about his job? You went back and forth, reminding yourself that you had a job too, sure it wasn’t as demanding as that of a lawyer, but no matter what you always found the time for things that were important to you. You even took a week off to go on a ski trip with his parents a few weeks ago.

After the break up, you called your parents to let them know you weren’t coming anymore. You fully intended to wallow in your apartment for the week and mourn your dead relationship. The wallowing lasted less than 24 hours before you decided the best antidote for a broken heart was a hug from your mom and a beer with your dad.

That’s how you found yourself on the Bow Valley Parkway at 11pm in the middle of a snowstorm. You thought it would be fun to surprise your parents, but now you were regretting that decision. You weren’t sure that the rental vehicle was equipped to deal with a January snow storm in the mountains and if you ended up in a ditch or hit by a moose, no one knew where you were. Knowing your parents, they were probably already asleep, and you didn’t want to wake them. You decided to spend the night at their guest cabin you had initially booked, with plans to surprise them in the morning.

—————————

Harry knew that a few hours on a plane and an evening in a log cabin in the middle of the wilderness wasn’t going to instantly fix his writer’s block. But he did hope his new setting might be able to wiggle some ideas free. 

As he sat with his tea and his journal open to an empty page, he begged the words to come to him. But he didn’t know what to say.

How could he write about a break up that he still didn’t even fully understand? 

He was just short of banging his head against the table and throwing his journal in the fire when a light shone through the window. 

A set of headlights turned onto the driveway, a small car bustling through the snow storm that had started raging outside. He looked to the door to make sure he’d locked it, in case someone was on their way to murder him in the middle of nowhere. 

Maybe Paul or Nancy forgot something, he hoped to himself. It was nearly midnight, so he knew that wasn’t logical. 

It was when you pulled up and parked next to his rental that he saw you in the driver’s seat. Your face was perplexed as you looked over at his vehicle and then to the log cabin. You awkwardly made eye contact through the window before you quickly looked away. 

Maybe she’s lost, he thought to himself next. 

He waited for you to come to the door, but you remained in your car. Eventually, thinking you looked harmless enough, Harry bundled up in his coat, slipped on his shoes, and went to meet you outside. 

—-

You whipped your head towards the cabin door when you saw it open to reveal a strange man walking toward your vehicle. 

Why is he coming out here? Oh god is he going to murder me? You thought. 

Embarrassed you’d been caught outside the cabin, you rolled down your window, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think anyone would be here! I’m just leaving!“

You were hit with the realization of who was walking toward you, followed by some confusion.

What the fuck… 

And then panic when you realized he was walking up to your car. 

“I really am sorry this is my parents cabin and I thought no one would be here!” You shouted as he approached your opened window. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your evening.”

Harry fucking Styles crouched down to look at you through the driver’s side window. In the darkness, you felt his eyes on you taking note of your black and yellow North Face puffer jacket and the knit beanie on your head. There was a look of recognition on his face, perhaps noticing some of your features were strikingly similar to those of a woman he’d met only a few hours ago.

“Ah, you’re Nancy and Paul’s daughter.”

“Yeah, I am…So I’ll just h-”

“They said you’d canceled.”

“Oh? Yea, I did… I, uh, changed my mind, I guess. I didn’t think they’d book someone so quickly.” 

“It was good timing on my part, I guess.” 

“Right, ok, I’m so sorry for interrupting your evening! I’ll just go to their house!” It was nearly pitch black outside, save for the light of your headlights shining on the cabin in front of you. The wind was violent, whipping snow around him, and you felt bad that he was standing outside in the cold. His arms were crossed and hugging his jacket closed, talking to you while not wearing nearly enough layers to be outside.

Harry pondered for a moment, sucking his lips into his mouth and turning to look at the snow coming down around him. He was sure being from here that you had experience driving in weather like this, but he could not in good conscience let you leave without offering. 

“The snow’s coming down pretty hard. I was just having some tea before bed… Would you like to come in? At least until things calm down a bit.” 

Harry felt bold asking you to come inside when you were strangers. He could tell you were mulling it over, maybe unsure if you could trust him or if it would be appropriate. He wasn’t sure if it was either, but he kind of hoped you agreed to it anyway. Jeffrey would yell at him for this. 

“Are you sure?” You asked. Your first instinct was to outright decline the offer, but you knew the roads were treacherous and you were exhausted. 

“Yes, I’m sure.” He insisted. “Selfishly, I would never forgive myself if I let you go and you got into an accident or something on the highway.”

“Okay,” you agreed reluctantly. “I’ll come in just for a bit.” You got out of the car and followed him back quickly through the blowing snow and up the path to the front door. 

Once inside, he turned to you. “I apologize I didn’t even ask your name.”

You told him your name as you toed off your boots and took off your many layers of outdoor winter wear. 

“Well it’s nice to meet you. I’m Harry.” 

“Nice to meet you too, Harry. I know who you are, by the way. I’m a fan.” You paused and he noticed the way your face twisted, almost in embarrassment. “Ugh, sorry, is that weird to say?”

“Not weird.” He tried to reassure you. “Would be more awkward if you said you hated me or something.”

You took a seat on the sofa, grabbing the buffalo plaid pillow next to you and hugging it to your chest. You felt awkward. What was Harry Styles doing in your parents’ vacation rental? And what were you doing with him alone in the middle of the night? Were you going to sit here and chat with each other? Or would he carry on with his evening as if you weren’t here? 

You spotted his open journal and a mug of tea abandoned on the side table near the fire. He did mention having tea before, which was confirmed by him now filling the kettle with water. 

“Again, I’m sorry for interrupting. Really appreciate you letting me hang here for a bit.” 

He grabbed a mug from the cabinet to the right of the sink. It was the green mug you painted for your mom for Mother’s Day in middle school.

“You’ve got to stop apologizing. Very Canadian of you though.” 

“Right. Sorry. Shit.” 

Harry laughed whilst shaking his head at your incessant apologies. You liked his laugh. And his dimples.

OK, he’s cute, you thought. 

“Would you like a snack?” Harry called out, interrupting your wandering thoughts. “I’m pretty sure all of the food here was supposed to be for you anyways.”

— END OF PART 1 —

Thank you so much for reading! I am looking forward to diving into this story a bit more and would like to know what you think :) 

TALK TO ME HERE

[corpseofthemonth]

˚ ༘♡ ·˚꒰ᥕᥱᥣᥴ᥆꧑ᥱ t᥆ ꧑ᥡ bᥣ᥆g꒱ ₊˚ˑ༄

This fall is my senior year of high school and I decided I'm going to journal the entire experience here. I'll be referring to myself & all my friends and family and even my pets by false names for privacy reasons, and also because I intend to delete this blog at the end of the year. This is a diary but I might reblog fandom stuff to chronicle my fixations. I hope melodramatic bullshit is up your guys' alleys !!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Name: Olive

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Age: 17

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Birthday: April 12th

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Sexuality: Asexual Lesbian

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Gender: agender

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Pronouns: Any! she/her is fine though

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Likes: Stevie Nicks, goth music, books about sad women in big cities, deer, teeth, pomegranates, carnivorous plants, ironic camouflage, bodies of water, hairspray, hotels, floral wallpaper, cemeteries, fainting couches, attics, taxidermy, the color green, the Muppets, stupidly large wigs, blackjack, crime procedurals, cat eye glasses, parasols, religious iconography, surf rock, having red hair, Joan Didion, my dog Bea, hand tattoos

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Dislikes: bananas, John Travolta, unnecessarily big animals, Lindsey Buckingham, birds, bad poetry, acid jazz, possums, eurocentric beauty standards, mosquito hawks, centipedes, squash, gingham

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Boundaries/Triggers: Do not get remotely sexual with me. Dms are fine, I'm up for friends! If we become close I may divulge my other social media accounts but the second you cross a line I'm blocking you. No bigotry. Basic shit, no being too graphic about traumatic experiences unless you're venting and I've given you permission. NEVER repost my photos even with credit.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Fav Musicians: David Bowie, Ethel Cain, Bauhaus, Sisters of Mercy, Fleetwood Mac, Cocteau Twins, Mazzy Star, Lou Reed, Leonard Cohen, Gardens of Livadia, Marlene Dietrich, Blondie, Joni Mitchell, Messer Chups, Fiona Apple, Talking Heads, underscores, Billie Holiday, Elliot Smith, Strawberry Switchblade, St Vincent, Norma Tanega, The Cramps, Pj Harvey, Bjork, Nick Cave&The Bad Seeds/The Birthday Party, Roxy Music, Fleetwood Mac, Stevie Nicks, Kate Bush, Black Marble, Johnny Cash, Dolly Parton, Roger Miller, Sonic Youth, Grouper, Sierra Ferrell, Bruce Springsteen, Broadcast, The Cure, Siouxsie & the Banshees, Lebanon Hanover, Joy Division, New Order, Scary Black, Vampire Beach Babes, Boy Harsher, She Wants Revenge, Depeche Mode, Clan of Xymox, The Damned, This Cold Night... way more

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Fav Movies & Tv: Archer, Bobs Burgers, What We Do In The Shadows, Brooklyn 99, Shows on Dropput, The Royal Tenenbaums, Clue, Scott Pilgrim, Practical Magic, Murderville, Killing Eve, Blue Velvet, Wild Things, Twin Peaks, Lady Bird, Past Lives, Francis Ha, But I'm A Cheerleader, Addicted to Fresno, Russian Doll

[manwalksintobar]

The Woman in me // John Wieners

It is a simple song: to long, for home and Dana lounging there under the moon. Who is Dana, what is he that he should mean so much to me? Is it love, or grass stains on your shirt? Is it night, or the sight of flesh lying on its side in the Pine Grove Groove of memory, overgrown with weed & speedballs. Is it movie houses, or blowjobs in the kitchen Is it hate or blood or the flood of seed running down yr. leg Basements, ballrooms, back alleys, black masquerade, who can say who cares for the details, only the dance makes it this desire.

The fault of the "poem" here is

that I lose sight of the original emotion, & the original object: the hills of home. Rather I go off and write a poem about an old lover. Which landscape contains no real objects nor actions but all heightened, glamourized, even, at the end, abstracted. So what starts off as potentially simple lyric with possibly a new form winds up as a trashy romantic unreal self exploration. Nothing is sacred, but to sacrifice a real event even if out of the past for theatrical effect, affect, is second rate and trashy. Also the poem on previous page rhapsodizes rather than match my emotional language line image the weight of death. There is no sense of a breakthrough into a new place as there is a hint of it in this essay. So all serves well.

[the-wine-dark-sea]

London pt. 2 - visiting the Great Detective

On Tuesday I got up early, eager to explore. My first destination was Regent's Park.

It was a wonderful, bright morning, if still a bit chilly. But it got a lot warmer later in the day. I did a bit of journaling sitting on one of those benches before walking around the park for a while. I saw so many cute dogs, you guys have no idea. 🥰

Then it was time for one of the top priorities of my holiday. I've been a huge Sherlock Holmes fan for many years now & was so excited to visit the Sherlock Holmes Museum at 221B Baker Street.

My visit there was essentially made up of two parts. First a short guided tour of the first floor, then we were free to go off on our own. They only let a certain amount of people in at a time to protect the antiques. I was a little sad that at the end of my visit I didn't make it back to the living room again, as there was already the next group there. It's sadly not really a place where you can very well just spend as much time as you want. So I definitely get what people mean when they say the place is a bit tourist-y. I still had a great time and am so happy that I went there.

And the tour guide was really good. They're all dressed as house staff there, so this woman dressed as a maid was showing us around. I was pleasantly surprised by how informative that little tour actually was & how many details from canon and the history of Sherlock Holmes as a character were incorporated. Also, as she was explaining the pictures of real life murderers in Holmes' bedroom, she pointed out one whose last words before his execution had been "I am Jack". As she asked who he could have been referring to & people said Jack the Ripper, she replied, "I'm glad you're saying that, yesterday someone said Jack Sparrow". I don't know if that was genuine or part of her personal bit, but it got a laugh either way.

(Was surprised to see In Bed with Sherlock Holmes on display there lol.)

This chair was used by Sydney Paget, the original Holmes illustrator, for an illustration for The Greek Interpreter.

That picture on the right with the note attached is... sure something lol.

On the top floor there is a room that is dedicated to the history of the character, with different editions of the books and a timeline showing some notable adaptations and different actors who have played Holmes throughout the years. What bothered me a little was that Christopher Lee's Sherlock was mentioned, but not that he also played his brother Mycroft in Billy Wilder's The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes (1970). I know they only have very limited space on that thing, but I will ot stand for TPLoSH erasure lol.

On the other hand, they had this little shrine set up for Jeremy Brett, so that was lovely. ❤️

[posttexasstressdisorder]

Good article. Brings up "bisexual erasure" in the "community", which I can totally 100% confirm. We were either told we'd "get over it" and just go straight, or that we were just confused. The Gays didn't want us, and the straights didn't either.

The article's focus is on the sound of the men's voices, and peoples' perceptions of them. tl;dr: Bisexual men's voices were perceived as more masculine. Big fat fucking shocker.

Why? They don't really offer a "why"...but as a 64-year-old proudly bisexual man, I can: we are MORE COMFORTABLE IN OUR SEXUALITY THAN MOST PEOPLE.

You listen to me talk, and yeah, I sound like Tom Testosterone...I play the piano like a powerhouse. But it's being able to 100% inhabit my sexuality that lets me express emotion like Billie Holiday when I'm singing.

I'm equally as comfortable and happy with having sex with both men and women, and THAT lets me be more comfortable in my own skin, with my own voice, and my own ability to completely inhabit my sexual self. That's really where I think their point might eventually be found.

If they'd only look there.

[attic-zine]

on jeff buckley and music

an interview with jomana

On a particularly chilly evening in the early fall of 2022, I heard my dad blasting a concert from the living room. Curious to know who he was listening to, I walked into my living room and stood by the TV as a guy wearing a light blue blouse and a guitar around his waist was belting in a falsetto on the screen. “Have you ever heard of Jeff Buckley?” my dad asked me. His name immediately sounded familiar to me and for some reason, I remembered my dad telling me he had passed from years prior to that. I told him I hadn’t listened to him but that I knew of him. In that moment, I went back to my room and looked for him on Spotify. I then found ‘Grace’ and skimmed through the album in a haste (trust me, I’m still kicking myself for it...). Despite the quick and inattentive skimming, however, I ended up finding two songs I really liked — ‘Lover, You Should’ve Come Over’ which was the song my dad had told me was his favorite, and ‘Forget Her’, which, to my surprise, I later found out that Jeff himself had hated. I listened to these two songs on repeat during the following months of fall, but that was about it.

Then, as New Year’s Eve all of a sudden rolled around, I came across a short clip of Jeff reciting his poem ‘New Year’s Prayer’ and something happened to me... I was completely mesmerized by this poem he was reading out loud to a small audience in a coffeehouse, his choice of words and the way he carried himself all put me in a trance. My first reaction was ‘of course he wrote all of these beautiful songs...’. The following day, I was watching and reading every interview, listening to every song, and just trying to keep myself from going insane. From out of the blue, I had found the most incredibly compelling artist to ever grace the Earth. Everything he said, everything he sang, it all just made perfect sense to me. There was something so intriguing about him that stood out from the long line of masterminds behind my other favorite albums and songs. I loved how there was no filter to him, and how he would always speak his mind so eloquently. I loved the way he wrote in his journals and the way he chose to express himself through words and music. Everything about him was just so real.

I knew right from the beginning that it was more than just an obsession with a musician. Thanks to him, I was able to discover a whole different world of music. Without even realizing it, I was listening to everything with a whole new mindset. What excited me even more was that every single one of my favorite artists who I had been listening to prior to Jeff were also his favorites, or even friends of his — Nina Simone, Cocteau Twins, The Stone Roses, The Smiths, Led Zeppelin, Billie Holiday, and Björk, to name a few... This alone made me feel like I was meant to find him, to discover Jeff and his art in order to not only make better sense of myself, but also the music I was listening to. He has definitely helped me re-realize my love for music, and has inspired me immensely with my own. It was all just a matter of time.

Thanks to Jeff, I have also been lucky enough to find these beautiful people who view music the same way I do, one of them being Jomana. Because he is practically the basis of our friendship, I have decided to compose an interview in regards to Jeff and his music, to talk to her about what makes him such a special, one-of-a-kind artist, and why she is so captivated by him and his art.

I know that we could spend hours and hours talking about Jeff and music, but I want to start easy with you... What was the first song by him that you fell in love with?

It’s not really a song by him, but a song that made me realize that he was actually incredible was his cover of ‘I Know It’s Over’ since my sister was a huge fan of the Smiths, and I listened to Jeff’s cover instead of the original thinking that it was his song. But the first song by him that I loved was ‘I Want Someone Badly’. I think the reason why I loved it so much was because of how powerful his voice was. The first three seconds or so had already done it for me the first time I listened because of how incredible he sounded. It was unlike anything I’d ever heard before. I was shocked.

When it comes to Jeff’s music, what is it that resonates with you the most about it?

There’s so much I could say oh my God… But if I had to pick one thing it would probably be how authentic and real his songs feel, what with his honest lyrics and raw vocals. It’s like every song is a different emotional experience and it just makes them sooo special. Especially with some of his more quiet songs that haven’t been properly produced in a studio and all. It doesn’t feel like he’s just singing for his job, it’s so obvious how passionate he is about his music, and it sometimes almost feels like he’s singing for you, if you know what I’m trying to say… His songs feel so pure and not heavily commercialized in any sense, and I just love that so much.

What are your favorite Jeff lyrics?

That question is almost impossible to answer... But at the moment, I think my favorite lyric is “I love your voice and your dance insane” from ‘Dream Brother’ because it’s just such a beautiful way of wording what he was trying to say. I’m not sure how to explain, but he made a sentence that could’ve been so simple into something so hauntingly beautiful, especially the “dance insane” part. Also, the way he sings it in the song is beautiful and always gives me chills. My favorite Jeff lyrics are personally his most simple because they may seem super on the nose and not too deep when read, but with his delivery it gives those so-called ‘simple words’ such a unique and almost significant sound. It’s just incredible.

What is one song by Jeff you wish you could see him perform live?

Again, almost impossible to answer… But the first one that comes to mind is instantly ‘Mojo Pin’. No performance of that song is the same and he truly put so much heart and passion into every single live performance of that song. It is so beautiful and almost rewarding to hear — it actually feels like a privilege to hear and see how he makes the song truly come to life onstage. If I saw it live I genuinely think I’d pass out…

What is the most common set of emotions that you tend to feel when listening to Jeff’s music? Or is it different every time?

I’d say different every time in terms of super specific emotions that I feel, like I definitely don’t feel the same when I listen to like ‘Yard of Blonde Girls’ and ‘Lover, You Should’ve Come Over’… But I’d say that I always feel almost hypnotized by whatever song I’m listening to by him, it’s like his songs actually put me in a trance or something, and all I can focus on when I listen to them is the music. I can’t ever play his music as background noise because I’ll end up getting distracted from whatever I’m doing and I’ll just be completely focused on the music.

If you could go back in time and hear one of Jeff’s songs for the first time again, which one would you choose?

I’d say ‘So Real’. It was definitely the song that made me become super into Jeff. I had — obviously — previously realized that he was amazing through his other songs but ‘So Real’ is what made me realize that I needed to listen to ‘Grace’. It was completely unlike anything else I’d ever heard before, but not in like a weird way, more in like a “I didn’t know songs could actually be this good” way. I remember being in literal shock after I heard it. I had no clue what I was expecting but it definitely wasn’t something that incredible, and I’m so grateful that I ran out of skips that day so I had to listen to it…

If Jeff was still alive, what would you tell him if you got to meet him?

I would ramble on a lot, mostly about how incredible he is and how much his music means to me. Something specific I’d tell him is probably how impactful his music is for so many different people, all because of his vulnerability in his songs and records. I’d definitely tell him to keep being honest and real because that’s what makes people feel that strong connection to the music, and I would thank him a ton for how much his music and honesty has impacted me in so many different ways!

Finally, what is the most ideal way to listen to Jeff?

Personally, I’d say on any form of physical media — preferably vinyl because everything sounds better on vinyl — and with ‘Grace’ specifically, listening to it on vinyl with the lights off, and incense and candles lit is the most perfect way to fully experience the album in the way I believe it was intended to be listened to. Also no distractions! The music is too good and needs to be fully focused on to be truly understood and enjoyed. But honestly, anything that works is great, I mostly listen to his music on vinyl and CD, but as long as the music is being enjoyed it’s all good!

And Jomana is very much right about that last part, so don’t forget to take notes. There is nothing that could compare to the lingering scent of nag champa incense filling the room as Jeff’s fervent vocals and wailing guitar break through the smoke, causing your body, soul and mind to float into what seems like an alternate universe... To explain it in subtle terms, it is an otherwordly experience. I highly recommend!

photography by guido harari, 1995

[girlactionfigure]

It was only 97 words, he was proud of what he wrote, but he was always uneasy about it, even after he set it to music in November of 1938.

He “was the child of Jewish immigrants who had fled pogroms in Russia [which is now Western Ukraine], and his activism was inspired by his family's history facing antisemitic violence and hatred,” according to Experiencing History.

Until the day he died at the age of 83 on October 29, 1986, he remained haunted by the image.

When he first saw the picture, he was revulsed by the gruesome image.

“The image is one most Americans would prefer to forget: Two black men, beaten and bloodied, hang from an elm tree . . . A white crowd mills around beneath them, and in the foreground a man glares at the camera, pointing back at one of the bodies,” wrote Frederick H. Lowe of the Chicago Reader.

“Woven into the fabric of racially-motivated violence in America is a summer night in Marion, Indiana in 1930,” wrote Nicole Poletika of the history blog.

It was August 7, 1930, the night 18-year-old Thomas Shipp and 19-year-old Abram Smith were lynched in Marion, Indiana, wrote Lowe.

“Local photographer Lawrence Beitler took a photograph of the swinging bodies, capturing a white crowd that looked on in a mixture of satisfaction, hostility, amusement, and bewilderment,” wrote Poletika. “This photo was reproduced on postcards and circulated by the thousands.”

“The police department did not protect Thomas and Abram from the bestial mob, and they never arrested or convicted anyone in the crowd,” according to Stanford Libraries. “The photographer sold thousands of copies because souvenirs from lynchings were a hot commodity.”

A Jewish American public high school teacher in New York City saw the photograph, which disturbed him so much that he wrote those 97 words.

It was published in 1937 in The New York Teacher, the journal of the teachers union. He set those 97 words to music in November of 1938, then shared his song with a singer at the Cafe Society night club in New York City’s Greenwich Village.

The singer was Billie Holiday, the poem formerly titled “Bitter Fruit” was now “Strange Fruit”.

The teacher who wrote those 97 words was Abel Meeropol.

This is a new story from the Jon S. Randal Peace Page, focusing on past and present stories seldom told of lives forgotten, ignored, or dismissed. The stories are gathered from writers, journalists, and historians to share awareness and foster understanding.

~~~~~

Meeropol’s son Robert wrote:

“My father Abel Meeropol was born in The Bronx in 1903 and grew up there. He was the son of Jewish immigrants, who just before his birth fled the anti-Semitic pogroms of what is now Western Ukraine. He told me that as a child he loved animals and abhorred violence. He had a dog named Sporty. He used the dog and his wits to avoid fights. He’d tell the other kid that he’d fight, but would first have to take his dog home. Then he’d leave, and never return.”

Meeropol “was a graduate of City College in 1925, with a master of arts degree from Harvard in 1926,” according to the New York Times. “He taught English at DeWitt Clinton High School in the Bronx from 1927 to 1944, when he turned to music full time.”

He started writing “for the stage, screen, radio and television, under the pen name of Lewis Allan,” according to the Times.

After Meeropol set “Strange Fruit” to music, his wife, Anne, would sing and play it on her nylon string guitar at Teachers’ Union events.

The founder of the Café Society nightclub had heard Meeropol perform his song and asked him to play it for Holiday, who was the club's headline performer at the time.

“At first, Holiday was hesitant to sing it,” according to Experiencing History. “She worried that the customers at the nightclub came simply to be entertained and would not be receptive to a political song. She also worried about becoming a target of racist aggression and violence herself. But the audience response at Café Society was thunderous, and Holiday soon embraced the song as her own.”

“The song caused a sensation,” wrote Meeropol’s son.

“During this period [Meeropol] was subpoenaed by the Rapp-Coudert Committee, a group set up the State Legislature to investigate teachers said to have participated in Communist activities,” according to the New York Times.

Lowe writes:

“According to Cynthia Wilson, archivist at Tuskegee University, 4,742 people were lynched in the U.S. between 1882 and 1964–3,445 of them black. “Mobs lynch someone whom they accuse of committing a crime,” says Wilson. “Or they lynch someone whom they accuse of violating a southern tradition.” Rubin Stacy, lynched July 19, 1935, in Fort Lauderdale, had been accused of “frightening and threatening a white woman.”

~~~~~

“Abel left teaching to avoid being fired for his politics and went to Hollywood to write full time,” according to his son. “In 1944 Abel wrote his other famous song, ‘The House I Live In.’ Abel wrote the lyrics and his friend Earl Robinson wrote the music. In 1945, Frank Sinatra performed it in a short film, which won an Academy Award in 1946. Abel and Anne attended a screening of the film at a local theater. When Abel realized his anti-segregation verse had been cut from the film he was furious. He started yelling in the theater “Shit, shit, they ruined my song!” He was physically ejected. Abel came back to New York City one step ahead of the Hollywood blacklist to write for television.”

The censored verse was:

“The house I live,

My neighbors white and black,

The people who just came here,

Or from generations back.

The town hall and the soapbox,

The torch of liberty,

A home for all God’s children.

That’s America to me.”

Meeropol is also known for adopting the sons of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, Robert and Michael Rosenberg after their parents' execution in 1953, according to the New York Times. The Meeropols adopted the boys in 1957.

His son, Robert Meeropol writes:

“In 1953, after the execution of my birth parents, Ethel and Julius Rosenberg, Abel and Anne adopted my brother Michael and me. This act showed that the man who wrote ‘Strange Fruit’ not only fought lynching with words, but also fought against it with his heart by adopting the sons of a couple he believed had been lynched by our government.

“My brother and I had been traumatized by the arrest, trial and execution of our parents. We’d been shunned by relatives, placed in a shelter, shuffled around among friends and even thrown out of the New Jersey public school system.

“But we thrived under Abel and Anne’s shelter, stability and love.”

~~~~~

“Billie [Holiday continued performing] [“Strange Fruit”] as her last number of the evening,” according to Robert Meeropol. “All service was stopped while she sang so that there would be silence. When she finished, the stage lights were extinguished for dramatic effect. According to reports, the audience was so stunned at the end of her first performance that no one made a sound.”

Sting performed the song on an album celebrating Amnesty International’s 25th anniversary in 1986. In 2000, Time Magazine named it the “song of the century.” The song has also been performed by Diana Ross, Nina Simone, and Andra Day.

Abel Meeropol died of pnuemonia on October 29, 1986 at the Jewish Nursing Home in Longmeadow, Mass. He was 83 years old and had lived in South Miami, Fla., before entering the nursing home, according to the New York Times.

~~~~~

When Frank Sinatra sang ''The House I Live In'' as part of the 100th birthday celebration for the Statue of Liberty [which had been dedicated on October 28, 1886] in a letter to The Times, Robert and Michael Meeropol expressed their pride in hearing their father’s song.

“What is America to me?

A name, a map, a flag I see

A certain word, democracy

What is America to me?

The house I live in

A plot of earth, a street

The grocer and the butcher

And the people that I meet

The children in the playground

The faces that I see

All races and religions

That's America to me

A place I work in

A worker by my side

A little town or city

Where my people lived and died

The howdy and the handshake

The air of feeling free

And the right to speak my mind out

That's America to me.”

''We hope that 'The House I Live In' will serve to remind all Americans that patriotism is not limited to the right wing,'' the letter read. ''We hope our father's life and work can help convince people to view with suspicion anyone who would curtail political freedom and limit the range of acceptable politcal debate in the name of anti-Communism, of anti-terrorism or of some 'higher' morality.''

Of his other song, Meeropol once said, "I wrote Strange Fruit because I hate lynching and I hate injustice and I hate the people who perpetrate it."

His son, Robert writes:

“Over 80 years after Abel wrote those 97 potent words . . . the pot is in full boil. The song’s growing power gives me hope. The pen just could be mightier than the sword after all.”

~ jsr

The Jon S. Randal Peace Page

[prolix-yuy]

Getting to Know Me Tag Game

Thanks to @musings-of-a-rose for tagging me!

Top Three Ships: 10th Doctor x Rose (my OGs), Loki x Darcy (a very strange exploration but I really enjoyed it), Sherlock x Molly (I know!)

Favorite color: Daffodil yellow, royal blue, dusty rose

Last song: Ceilings by Lizzie McAlpine

Last Book: The Society of Shame for book club, and Billy Summers by Stephen King is on loan from a coworker, so I've been meaning to start that.

Currently Watching: I've been sick for most of this week, so I chewed through Loki S2 (LOVED it, still crying) and a season of Dimension 20 (The Ravening War). Now I'm starting Fall of the House of Usher and as a big Poe fan, I am LOVING it so far.

Current Obsession: Trying my hand at bullet journaling because I've been in a productivity rut lately and want to see if it helps motivate me. Though all I've done so far is watch videos of people talking about how to bullet journal, so not much started on that front.

Currently working on: So many things!

Fic related: A BEEFY next installment of I Think of You, Dieter and Murch's first date, the next SW!Frankie ask (which starts a new mini-arc with them, which I'm excited for), prepping for a couple of challenge fics, and deciding if one of my oneshot WIPs may come onto the schedule after that.

Non-fic related: prepping for Thanksgiving, new holiday decor for my place, Christmas shopping and my favorite part - wrapping gifts!

Country I want to visit: I'd love to see Morocco, New Zealand, Japan, and Montreal!

I think this made the rounds recently, so anyone who hasn't played that wants to, jump on in!