#&&. muse ; 3 am cigarettes and you

[widow-tarot]

MINI PAC READING: What Would They Tell You If They Could? (Romance)

GROUPS: 1 - 2 - 3 4 - 5 - 6

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Instruction: Think about your person while choosing a group. Do not use more than 1 group for one person. Just to remind you, this is only for entertainment purposes.

If you don't feel drawn to any group, then this reading is not for you.

GROUP 1

Cards: Ace of Wands, Knight of Wands rx, Wheel of Fortune rx, I Like You, Girl Talk rx, Pond, Archangel Metatron.

I like you. I know it's straightforward, but I cannot say it in any other way that's more meaningful or more direct. It might not sound meaningful but it is to me (I hope it is to you too). I feel there is a spiritual connection between us and it seems no matter what, we keep coming back to each other. Our connection is like a pond; can be insignificant to others but to us, it holds so much life and secrets but it can easily be destroyed if not cultivated. We are so hot and cold; we like each other, then we hate each other over something trivial (we both don't know what exactly annoyed us). I want to move towards you but things are holding me back. There's so much I want to do and say but I'm standing still. I know we will truly come together someday. No one knows about it because I don't share those feelings with friends. It seems too private and sacred.

SONGS:

Eric by Mitski ("Take off my clothes and watch me move; You can come closer, I'll let you hurt me; But how long, how long can we play this way?; I'm tired, I'm tired of not loving you"

Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey ("Ours a love I held tightly; Feeling the rapture grow; Like a flame burning brightly; But when she left; Gone was the glow")

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby by Cigarettes After Sex ("Whispered something in your ear; It was a perverted thing to say; But I said it anyway; Made you smile and look away; Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby; As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine")

GROUP 2

Cards: 9 of Pentacles, 2 of Pentacles, 7 of Cups, Noose rx, Mushrooms, The Snake, Hammer rx, Seraphim Seraphisa rx.

You will forever be in my heart and mind, but we can never be together in the way we want. There are way too many blockages and I do think we are not fit to be in a relationship. I am in a committed relationship (or you are) and I do not wish to leave her for I love her. Maybe I am a coward, but I am a practical and cautious one. I will not take reckless actions just to wake up one day and regret it. I think what we have is a fantasy, pleasant make-believe, daydreaming. However, I don't want you gone because you're an important person to me. I wish you happiness but I can't follow you.

SONGS:

Lonesome Love by Mitski ("I call you, to see you again; So I can win, and this can finally end")

Blue Banisters by Lana Del Rey ("She said, "You can't be a muse and be happy, too; You can't blacken the pages with Russian poetry and be happy"; And that scared me; 'Cause I met a man who said he'd come back every May;Just to help me if I'd paint; Now when weather turns to May; All my sisters come to paint")

Flash by Cigarettes After Sex ("I'm a flash; You were blinded by the love I had; I'm a flash; The light could only get in through the cracks")

GROUP 3

Cards: The Hierophant rx, 8 of Wands, The Devil, 10 of Swords rx, Wildflowers, Mirror, Keys on a Ring, Archangel Raphael.

You are the temptation, the chaos in my life, the wildflowers that can still be growing but can also be already taken by someone else while I wasn't looking. You're untouchable, unable to be caught, translucent. One minute you're here only to leave seconds later just to come back and stay for a long time. You're unpredictable, a sin worth sinning for. But I hate to be alone and you make me sad. I love to see you but I hate myself when you leave. I don't know if you have any feelings for me; is it something serious or is it just casual and convenient? I can't do this anymore, I'm trapped and I feel miserable. I wish I could tell you to stay away, to abandon me, to never come back. It would be easier for me to move on then but I am a fool for you. I wish I was strong enough to talk things through but I'd rather have some of you than none of you. Then again, being with you hurts me so what should I do?

SONGS:

Should've Been Me by Mitski ("Relive all the ways you still want me; I haven't given you what you need; You wanted me but couldn't reach me; I'm sorry it should've been me"

Blue Jeans by Lana Del Rey ("I will love you till the end of time; I would wait a million years; Promise you'll remember that you're mine; Baby, can you see through the tears?; You went out every night; And, baby, that's alright; But when you walked out that door; A piece of me died")

Ambien Slide by Cigarettes After Sex ("Take my love with some pretend; You said you couldn't help it; Had everything that you wanted; When my love was something yours; But now you're feeling helpless")

GROUP 4

Cards: Death, Page of Pentacles rx, The Chariot rx, Archangel Sammael, Eileen Chang rx, Boat rx, Engagement Ring rx.

I don't want to try to fix this thing between us anymore, it's a fool's errand. We tried and it didn't work, it's time to move on to something else because we are just wasting our time and I'm exhausted. Let me go. Let me leave, peacefully. I don't want to fight but I'm frustrated. I think we tried to escape the inevitable but at the end of the road, we cannot pretend any longer. Relieve me of this burden and don't resent me.

SONGS:

Working For The Knife by Mitski ("I always thought the choice was mine; And I was right, but I just chose wrong")

Bel Air by Lana Del Rey ("Gargoyles standing at the front of your gate; Trying to tell me to wait; But I can't wait to see you; So I run, like I'm mad, to heaven's door; I don't wanna be bad; I won't cheat you no more")

Tejano Blue by Cigarettes After Sex ("We wanted to fuck with real love; Wanted it sweet, so pure and warm; And when you say you want it all, I know you want it all; Baby, take it all from me; I always will make it feel like you were the last one; So get in the waves like it was the first time")

GROUP 5

Cards: The Star rx, 7 of Pentacles, 10 of Swords rx, Glove rx, The Phoenix, Paradise rx, Archangel Haniel.

I wish we could start anew, without any bitter history between us that holds us back and clouds our judgment. We cannot fully be together while all these thoughts are troubling us, making us suspicious of each other and insecure. I know we both lost hope for this connection, yet we are still going and proceeding with it in any way we can. We don't want this to be over but we need to find a solution. I want you in my life and I'm willing to put work into it. Are you? Someone needs to make the first step though and it's the most difficult thing to do. We cannot stay still for much longer though. We communicate telepathically but we also have to communicate in real life.

SONGS:

First Love/Late Spring by Mitski ("Please hurry leave me; I can't breathe; Please don't say you love me; One word from you and I would; Jump off of this ledge I'm on; Tell me "don't" so I can crawl back in")

Video Games by Lana Del Rey ("It's you, it's you, it's all for you; Everything I do; I tell you all the time; Heaven is a place on earth with you; Tell me all the things you wanna do; It's better than I ever even knew; They say that the world was built for two; Only worth living if somebody is loving you")

Goodbye Mr Blue by Father John Misty (" But maybe if he'd gone sooner; Could've brought us back together last June; When the last time was our last time; If only then I knew; The last time was our last time; Would've told you that the last time comes too soon")

GROUP 6

Cards: Page of Swords rx, 9 of Cups rx, 4 of Swords, Sappho, Archangel Chamuel, Cupid's Arrow rx, Separation rx.

Do you love me? You say you do why does your love cause so much pain? Why am I in agony instead of being elated and happy? Is this how you show your love? I feel neglected and manipulated. I feel ignored and mocked. Am I your partner or your pet? Do you even care what I want? Do you care what I have to say? You treat me as a child as if I cannot think or decide for myself. Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think so lowly of me? When you're not here, I don't miss you and my mind is at ease. I lost all hope for anything to change. It hurts even more because I love you, but your love is weird and dysfunctional. I feel trapped. I even stopped speaking my mind because it was met with ridicule and anger.

SONGS:

Wife by Mitski ("For if I am not yours, what am I?; I daydream I'd give one a name of my own; For even I am on loan; For even mine is unknown; So let me go towards the morning star; With hope it won't disappear;)

Carmen by Lana Del Rey ("Baby's all dressed up, with nowhere to go; That's the little story of the girl you know; Relyin' on the kindness of strangers; Darlin', darlin', doesn't have a problem; Lyin' to herself, 'cause her liquor's top shelf; It's alarmin', honestly, how charmin' she can be; Foolin' everyone, tellin' 'em she's havin' fun")

Hot by Cigarettes After Sex ("Is it all in my head? 'Cause I keep getting scared; That I'll always be lost forever; But I don't give a shit if I'm too delicate; When you hold me, it's always better")

[st4rtar0t]

Some channeled songs for you from a loved one

Pick a picture

MASTERLIST ☆ PAID SERVICES

These pictures do not belong to me, they belong to their rightful owners. I only own the content of this post.

Picture 1

You are the innocent kid of the Pious God,

The dearest to his royalty…

Innocent kid of the Pious God,

You are his beloved child,

The worries that God has given,

He only will take them away.

The Girl has become like the Peepal (tree),

Everyone worships you,

But no one ever sows your seeds,

And no one can arrest you at home…

Treading the roads fearlessly,

She is akin to rain water,

When she comes near the real world,

She becomes a little dirty.

If you be the cash

I'll be the rubber band

You be the match

I will be a fuse, boom

Painter, baby, you could be the muse

I'm the reporter, baby, you could be the news

'Cause you're the cigarette and I'm the smoker

We raise a bet 'cause you're the joker

Checked off, you are the chalk

And I can be the blackboard

You can be the talk

And I can be the walk, yeah

Even when the sky comes falling

Even when the sun don't shine

I got faith in you and I

So put your pretty little hand in mine

Even when we're down to the wire, babe

Even when it's do or die

We could do it, baby, simple and plain

'Cause this love is a sure thing

Picture 2

My eyes choose only you, my eyes only listen to my heart.

He forgets the whole world and gets lost in thoughts of you.

I don’t see any difference between you and God.

I have fallen madly in love with you…

I have fallen completely madly in love with you…

When I see a shooting star I will pray for you.

I pray that when our bond is joined, it will never break.

I didn’t realize when night turned into morning.

Ever since you’ve been mine I’ve stopped noticing time.

I want to call you mine, I want to be with you.

I keep looking for an excuse to see you.

I have fallen madly in love with you…

I have fallen completely madly in love with you…

I don’t see any difference between you and God.

You're so hypnotizing

Could you be the devil?

Could you be an angel?

Your touch, magnetizing

Feels like I am floating

Leaves my body glowing

They say, be afraid

You're not like the others

Futuristic lover

Different DNA

They don't understand you

You're from a whole 'nother world

A different dimension

You open my eyes

And I'm ready to go

Lead me into the light

Picture 3

I will live by your name

I will die by your name

To be with you I can do anything for you

What you have done to me; The ego in me has died; been erased;

Yes, I have become

Yours, I have become mad for you

When the wildness of love crosses all the limits

The lovers hang themselves with smile

The magic of love overpowers the mind and proclaims

You may guard (the paths) but the lord will create a way

This is the will of love

This is the will of God

Without you, How can I live ?

Yes I know, this is the selfishness

I became crazy and play in all colors

I am innocent, mad and wild

I sing, I dance, I make everyone happy

Now I do not follow any religion or rules of society

Because I am mad and crazy in love

And if I may just take your breath away

I don't mind if there's not much to say

Sometimes the silence guides a mind

To move to a place so far away

The goosebumps start to raise

The minute that my left hand meets your waist

And then I watch your face

Put my finger on your tongue 'cause you love to taste, yeah

These hearts adore, everyone the other beats hardest for

Inside this place is warm

Outside it starts to pour.

[thecapricunt1616]

Hello everyone! I am truly sorry for not posting as of late. I’ve been dealing with mental health stuff, also my laptop got broken :( So it hasn’t been as easy to write. I do have my iPad/wireless keyboard, but it just isn’t as comfortable to write on / I worry that the format will look like shit. I do feel poorly though because all of my moots have been writing a lot lately, and my blog has been so dry! I am really trying to get my mental health in check so obtaining a job will be easier and in turn, my work will probably be (somewhat) better. I hope this suffices, though, for the time being. I promise I’m trying to get a new laptop just as soon as I can <3 I appreciate all of your patience with me :) I have never written for our darling prince Lip Gallagher before- but he has been making me fairly crazy lately, so I wanted to give my go at writing for him, I haven’t watched the college Lip ep’s in a while so I hope it’s alright - sorry if it’s not fully canon! Tell me how I did if you’d like! xoxo - Capri <3 :)

(Warnings - smut choking (consensual) unprotected PIV sex, not very edited or proof read bc im tired ❤️❤️❤️)

”Hump my fuckin leg one more time, I swear to god. If you don’t just sit in my fuckin’ lap, and behave y’not gonna like me. I told you, I have 3 more fuckin’ papers to grade- like a cat in fuckin’ heat” he grumbled, not looking up from the homework assignment he’d been grading for the professor he’d been working under.

You pouted, squeezing his thigh that you had been straddling and working your way up to fully dragging your swollen, needy cunt across his worn out denim beneath your flower printed panties. A frustrated huff leaved your lips, before connecting them with the warm, tobacco scented skin of his neck and planting a gentle kiss. “Wanna feel good, Lip. Y’bein mean” you said, voice quiet and laced with the neediness he couldn’t quite ignore, or deny.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Fine, Need a smoke anyway. But you want it so bad, you can fuckin’ get y’self off” he walked over to the dorm window, pushing it open to let out the smoke out and put a cigarette to his lips, lighting it and plopping down on the bed, popping the button of his jeans. You were sat there dumbly, jaw dropped at the fact that he didn’t put up more of a fight. ”You have until the end of this fuckin smoke. You gonna come do somethin’ er sit there lookin’ like a goddamn trout?” He teased.

You quickly got up, pushing him to lay down and tugging his cock just enough out of his jeans and boxers, spitting in your hand before beginning to stroke him quickly, thumbing over his sensitive tip and he grunted softly, smoke plooming out of his nose as he plucked the cigarette from between his lips. “see that fuckin wet stain you left on my jeans? Such a needy whore f’me yeah?” He mused, watching as you pumped him faster, mouth dropping slightly as he hardened in the pressure of your palm until he was throbbing.

”Only yours -“ your jaw falls slack as you ran the tip of his cock through your wet folds, gathering your arousal and using his tip to rub over your clit. His eyes nearly rolled back, putting the cigarette between his lips and taking another large drag. He looked down as you rutted your hips back and forth over his thick now throbbing length.

“Only half a cig left, kitten. You gonna get y’self off with it er’ just fuck around, ‘eh?” He asked impatiently. You rolled your eyes sassily, aligning him with your entrance and sitting back, a whimper leaving your throat since you hadn’t the time to get yourself fully ready for him and the stretch he provided was never anything you could adjust to no matter how many times you took it.

A small grunt left his throat, hips rutting up into you subconsciously a gasp left your throat as he shifted his hips forward, rutting into that most sensitive and spongey spot inside of you that made white stars form behind your lids and your thighs shake. You whine as your head fell back, hips trembling as you lifted yourself up and down over his cock. “Jesus- so fucking big….” You manage to get out, bringing a trembling hand down to play with your puffy, throbbing clit.

”Finally feel good? Hm? Little fuckin’ brat. Shoulda fucked your face instead mm? Bet you’d love that shit” he reached over and put out his mostly gone cigarette on the ash tray and you began furiously rolling your hips, worried he was gonna pull you off and tell you that it was time for him too get back to work.

”Yes- yes daddy, such a brat- your brat. Please- please let me finish- feel so good- please” you rambled, voice needy and begging. He huffed a nearly mocking chuckle, grabbing you by the throat and pushing you down onto the mattress. It wasn’t painful, it just cut off your blood flow just right to where there was this sweet, fuzzy feeling in your head, causing your vision to go slightly hazy around the edges.

“I’ve created a fuckin monster - huh? Addicted t’my cock now. Can’t even go 12 hours without gettin’ filled up.” He was practically speaking into your sweaty, flushed skin of your temple, His voice a gruff row grumble. He used his other hand to rut up your tshirt, palming your tit roughly and rolling your nipple between his fingers. You squeaked out, hips jerking at the motion which urged him deeper and made your eyes roll at the overstimulation.

”shit - like that, huh? You like that? When I pound you this fuckin’ deep?” He snapped his hips faster, short, sweet little ah-ah-ah squeaks being torn from your throat with each nearly punishing thrust. You nod quickly, looking up at him in awe stricken lust as you clench around him.

“Ohh are you gonna cum? Is my little fuckin brat gonna cum? Mmm? You gonna cum around my cock?” He taunts in the shell of your ear, the hand that was playing with your nipple sliding down to play with your clit as the other stated wrapped firmly around your throat. Your hips jerk, feet planting on the bed as your back arches while your body tries to escape the oncoming tidal wave of pleasure that was threatening to take over.

“Mmhmm. Y’gonna cum- feel you fuckin’ milking my cock- go ahead baby - let go” he goads as he stroked your twitching bud faster. You let out something akin to a sob, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes and breath hitching as your vision blurs out momentarily, body going slack other then your trembling thighs, and nails that were slapping and clawing at Lips back as he drives you through it, his thrusts becoming sloppier and harder at the feeling of you pulsating around him like a second heartbeat and your creamy white arousal seeping around him and covering his cock with each thrust.

“That’s fuckin it- that’s it kitten” he groaned, spreading out your pussy with a slack jaw, watching as his cock punched in and out of you, rutting against your g spot each and every time - in turn causing pathetic pleas for you weren’t sure what coming from your throat.

“Please what, baby- want me to fill you up? Hm? Need my cum drippin outta’ you after I fuck you to sleep here so I can finish my fuckin work in peace?” He coos mockingly, tugging you by your hair forcing you to look at him.

You sniffled, tears seeping from the corners of your eyes pathetically and drool dribbling down your chin from how he was fucking you so good your tongue had nearly fallen out of your mouth like some kind of puppy - “s-sorry- jus’love your- your cock” you hiccuped an over stimulated sob as he used his thumb abuse the nub further which in turn caused another strangled moan to leave your throat and head to fall back to the pillow.

“Awww I know Angel. You take it so well- like a good little toy” he mumbled into your skin, his words causing you to clench and dribble around him slightly, the raspiness of his voice mixed with the praise doing something to you you couldn’t quite explain.

“So good- so good daddy m’so good” you cry out as he fills you up, cock twitching and pulsing between your walls in the most delicious way. You gasped in delight, wrapping your legs tight around his hips and tugging your pelvis’ taut and comfortably, enjoying the feeling of being filled up to the hilt.

“Got shit t’do as much as I wanna live in your cunt, baby. Gotta get back at it” he kissed your forehead, grabbing a T shirt from his laundry pile and tossing it to you to clean yourself up as he fixed his jeans and went to sit back at his desk, leaving you well satiated

All be it a little sore and wanting post sex snuggles,

You win some, you lose some.

[f2e5b1]

bitter orange — okkotsu yūta [1/3]

pairings. okkotsu yūta + f! reader/original character (main); past!orimito rika + f!reader; past!okkotsu yūta + orimito rika warnings/themes. mentions of death, jealousy, hints of obsession and possession. just a lil dark romance practice (which is barely any dark romance tbh who am i kidding) sprinkled with food motifs but i dont know what im doing im just here for the vibes :P mostly sfw with nsfw themes but nothing sexual bc im too scared to go down that dark path (also no use of y/n bc i started writing with an original name and it unfortunately stuck lawl... can be treated as either or it doesnt matter tbh i cant write anything outside of 2nd person anwyay) word count. 2.8k words nothing too crazy xd playlist. knuckle velvet by ethel cain; velvet ring by big thief; pure by cigarettes after sex; only in the dreams by the marias; be my mistake by the 1975; mary by alex g

it’s been a long time since i have seen my beloved. the moss has grown on that abetachibana tree

PART ONE: ichigo daifuku

Gojō Satoru tells you that love is the most twisted curse of them all.

He had said it in passing after your first solo mission, right as you were entering the car back to Jujutsu Tech before talking your ear off with his lame jokes. The mission had consisted of exorcizing a curse that had persistently haunted an abandoned apartment complex in Omotesandō, assigned to you by the higher-ups in accordance with your newly promoted rank as a Grade 2 sorcerer, having decided that a Grade 1 was doable enough for someone of your caliber. The curse itself wasn’t anything special, though, only repeating gargled confessions of its love to some ‘Chiyo-chan’—whoever she was—the whole time you were dodging its attacks, which was incredibly annoying. You liked your battles in silence, quick and succinct, but curses make that difficult to achieve.

Gojō muses it could have been a past lover, this Chiyo-chan—its love for her having cursed itself. You didn’t really care. If you keep up the good work, complete your required missions and get another recommendation, you could be ranked a Semi-Grade 1 by your second year, then a Grade 1 by your third and nothing else after that because unless you were someone like Gojō Satoru, then you are capped forever at Grade 1.

“So anyway—snacks you like?” said sorcerer asks, finally done with his previous tale. Something about an old coworker. “Mochi, senbei, or taiyaki? Personally, I'm a mochi ice cream type of guy!”

You look at him.

“Why are you here again?”

“... Is your memory that small, Ume? I was proctoring you,” he tuts, mouth turned downwards. “Congrats on the promotion, by the way.”

You shrug. “Ichigo daifuku is good, I guess.”

He smiles, wryly.

“You’re joking, right?”

+

The building facing your childhood home had been home to Orimito Rika, an unsuspecting property with a decent front yard and the occasional street cat or two often shooed away by her irate grandmother. “Mean granny,” you’d often call her, the insult drowned out by your hushed giggles as you played with your dolls. Rika wouldn’t say anything about it, wouldn’t dare verbally agree with you, but she would always nod her head down, the corners of her lips turned up too high.

You didn’t particularly hate the old woman, but there was a certain kind of satisfaction to saying it behind her back after all the times you’ve caught her looking at her granddaughter in unbridled scorn, your own little form of revenge. You could never understand how her only remaining family could look at her like that, not when Rika was so beautiful and kind; like the cherry blossoms during spring, falling gently along with the wind. Sure, she could be a little cunning at times, and none of the other kids at school liked her because “something’s odd about her, can’t you just hang out with us instead?”—but that’s what makes her interesting, right?

Rika isn’t weird, she’s pretty, and you’re the bee drawn to her. She’s only older than you by a year, ten instead of nine, but she always played with you, taught you how to make flower crowns at the park, and when you walked home from school she’d always hold your hand. Her smile is blindingly bright, the sound of her voice a song you couldn’t stop listening to. Selfishly, you wish it would always be the two of you together; playing with your dolls, walking home with your hands intertwined.

But when she came back from the hospital, so did Okkotsu Yūta.

You could never see what she saw in him; he was short and just a little bit pathetic, always trailing after her like a lost puppy at first. You could push him off the swing and he'd move on with a sniffle, the kind to give up the plastic shovel even though he desperately needed it to finish his sand castle because he didn’t want to fight a girl. He smiled shyly and hid his hands behind his back, looking at you like he was looking for your approval. Of course, you never gave him the time of day, because it felt like he had stolen Rika—your Rika. It was supposed to be just you and her, but that wasn’t the case anymore. Now there was Okkotsu Yūta, who held Rika’s other hand after school, who took away her attention from you so easily.

“He’s so cute, isn’t he?” she asks often, a light blush dusting her face.

“I guess,” is your reply.

“Ne,” she calls, presenting to you a small, black box. You look at it in apprehension, wincing when she eventually opens it. “What do you think of this ring? It was my mom’s. I’m gonna give this to Yūta-kun, do you think he’ll like it?”

The ring was immensely simple, a silver-colored band with a small diamond in front, glinting under the light. Nevermind the fact that it was too big for a child’s fingers to fit in, Rika presented it to you as if it held all the answers to the world. Although her parents were dead, and she had definitely stolen it from her grandmother’s dresser, the ring spoke full of promise. When she takes it out of the box and lets you inspect it, it feels heavy.

“... You really like him, don’t you, Rika-chan?” you ask, quietly.

Rika looks at the stupid piece of jewelry, painfully smitten.

“Mhm,” she affirms. “I really like Yūta-kun. I want to be with him forever! Of course, I like you too, Ume-chan. You and Yūta-kun are my favorite people in the world!”

You close the box, handing it back to her. When Rika looks at you expectantly, you realize then that you could never bring yourself to take that happiness away from her.

+

The koinobori flies.

“It’s so pretty!” Rika exclaims, eyes wide and staring up at the sky where the huge, windsock carp moves around. It’s bathed in all sorts of colors—from red to blue to white to green—dancing along the azure expanse in commemoration of Children’s Day. The weather is just right, not too hot nor too cold, and the wind caresses your skin gently, the sun not too harsh. It makes the color of Rika’s hair shine in all the right ways, adds more sparkle in her already bright eyes. She’s wearing a yellow sundress, a nice change from her usual blue one. The cream-colored hat you let her borrow covers her face with the shade, but her smile remains bright and blinding. She looks pretty.

She gives you all of her ichigo daifuku, and shares Yūta’s snacks. She doesn’t even like chimaki.

“Are you sure, Rika-chan?” you ask, looking at the two sweets in your hands.

She beams. “You like them, don’t you?”

You keep them with you until the end of the event.

The day passes by incredibly fast, your little trio having exhausted yourselves from running around the park alongside the other children. Yūta chases Rika around the park, and you watch them squeal and laugh at each other and hold hands. You watch them take a nap under the shade, their pinkies intertwined, and you watch as the ugly color of green blinds your eyesight. You leave them be.

Sometimes, you wish you’re the colorful koinobori flying in the sky. You’d let Rika hold on to you, let her fly and hear her amused laugh as the wind tickles her skin. Sometimes, you wish Yūta slapped the ring away from her hands when she handed it to him. Wish he stomped it on the ground and at the same time stomped on her heart. Wish he didn’t take it with a huge smile and agree that he’d marry her when they get older; he’s not the one who’d wait long lines just to get her the best ichigo daifuku, not the one who’d jump at the other kids when they so much as think of insulting her, and he won’t be the one who’d choose to stay with her when she’s all gray and old cause he’s a boy, and boys would never do that.

Sometimes, you wish he never liked her at all—because he never deserved her in the first place.

Okkotsu Yūta could never love Orimito Rika like you.

+

He sits beside you at lunch.

Rika’s been bedridden for the whole week, which subsequently ruins your week. Yūta doesn’t seem to mind her absence all that much since he doesn’t see her a lot during classes anyway, but they’re supposed to be engaged. He should always be thinking of her, should be acting as miserable as you even at the unripe age of nine. He looks too okay with her absence when he shouldn’t be.

“What’s this?” you ask, pointing at the small bag of snacks he had placed on the cover of your bento.

“Hm?” he looks up. “Oh, it’s norimaki senbei.”

“... And?” you prod.

He tilts his head. “You don’t want it?”

“... I don’t want it.”

He looks at you thoughtfully.

“But you like them, don’t you?” he asks though he’s acting like he already knows, like you’ll take it regardless of what you say. It’s annoying.

You look at the seaweed-wrapped rice crackers—the stupid norimaki senbei—in mild contempt. “Why are you giving it to me?”

Yūta’s smile is small, knowing. “Because you don’t like sweets.”

You frown.

+

She’s a sweet girl.

You think of Orimoto Rika like that because it’s true—she smiles sweetly, she speaks sweetly, and she likes sweet things. She tells you that her favorite snack is ichigo daifuku, the very same confection you always begged your parents to buy for you just so you could share them with her. It pays off all the time because then she’d look as sweet as the daifuku itself, her cheeks as red as the fruit within it. She also likes hanami dango, but she doesn’t like the green part because she doesn’t really like the subtle taste of yomogi, so you eat the rest for her because she doesn’t want to waste it. She likes cold tea instead of hot, sweet instead of savory, like yuzu iced tea or bubbly ramune in comparison to the nutty taste of hōjicha. When you go to the store, she always gets the kompeitō with some random anime character on the packaging because those were the “cutest kind of kompeitō,” and Rika likes cute things.

She also likes the color pink, but when you ask her what her favorite color is she’d say it’s blue. It’s blue not because she wears that blue dress all the time, but blue because it’s the color of Okkotsu Yūta’s eyes, bright and round and always looking at her. Rika likes it that way—she likes how Okkotsu Yūta is always looking at her with his blue eyes, unwavering and full of adoration for her and her only.

You think Orimito Rika is a sweet girl, but sometimes she’s more than that. Sometimes, when the other kids get brave enough to drag you away from her, tell you to stop hanging out with her, they say it’s because Rika doesn’t like anyone else but Okkotsu Yūta.

Sometimes, when they tell you that, you wonder if Rika liked you at all, way before Okkotsu Yūta came into the picture.

But most of the time, you don’t really care. Even if Rika didn’t like you, you’d still like her. Even if she’d only have her eyes set on Okkotsu Yūta with his stupid blue eyes and his stupid norimaki senbei and stupid chimaki that he shared with her on the fifth of May, you’d still like her because she’s Rika—beautiful, kind, and wonderful Rika.

She has things she doesn’t like, too, such as other people but never Yūta-kun or Ume-chan! She likes it when people compliment her and praise her looks and give her free stuff like ramune or ichigo daifuku or Sailor Moon-themed kompeitō from the store, but sometimes she tells you that she dislikes this certain group of girls from Yūta’s class, dislikes the boy assigned as your seatmate, her homeroom teacher, the “weird” guy who works at the konbini a street over, and dislikes it even more when her grandmother looks at her and tells her she killed her own father without even saying anything at all.

You know all those things because you know Orimito Rika. You like her even if she holds intense dislike for the people outside her circle, people who tick her off just a little for you to see her smile crack at the edges and go stiff, the little twitch of her brown eyes, and most importantly, you still like her when all she wants in the world is the attention of the boy who wears her deceased mother’s ring.

You’ll always want sweet girls like her.

+

“Where’s Rika-chan?”

“Her grandma won’t let her go out today,” Yūta says, sitting next to you on the bench. “So it’s just you and me.”

He says it dejectedly, but it’s not enough for you. If he was really sad, then he’d be as sad as you are, so you start packing your belongings. “I’m leaving, then.”

He startles, standing up. “Huh? W–wait! Don’t leave just yet!”

“But Rika-chan’s not here,” you frown. “There’s no point in hanging out today.”

He falters, looking down at the ground.

“Even if she isn’t here, we can still play together…” he offers, looking up at you timidly. “We’re friends, too, aren’t we?”

The green-eyed monster stares at the silver chain wrapped around his neck, the ring acting as its pendant tucked underneath his shirt—like an unattainable treasure trapped inside a chest with the key thrown away somewhere you cannot find it. We’re not friends, the monster says with a snarl, stay away from me.

If there is one thing you know, then it’s that you have never wanted to be friends with Okkotsu Yūta, not after he took everything from you. He can butter you up by sticking to you during class and sitting next to you at lunch and even offering you some of his not-ichigo daifuku, not-yuzu iced tea, and not-colorful anime-themed kompeitō but you will and have never liked him for the green-eyed monster will always sit on your shoulder so long as he wears that ring on his person, a physical manifestation of his promise with Rika. Your Rika, even if that’s not really the case.

You will never like Okkotsu Yūta, because—because he—

“... What’re we even gonna do?” you ask, slowly.

He immediately brightens up.

“… Wanna get ice cream?” he offers. “There’s a new flavor I wanna try!”

His suggestion does not entice you at all, but when he stands there with an outstretched hand waiting for you to take it, like it’ll matter if you reject him, you find yourself at a crossroads. But you make your decision soon enough. Like it’ll matter, like the green-eyed monster isn’t there, staring.

“Okay,” you say, moving past him to start walking. He blinks incredulously at the blatant rejection before gathering himself and following after you, a prep to his step regardless of your actions.

You try to ignore the warmth of his body next to yours.

He’s too close.

+

“Yūta-kun’s birthday is in a few days,” Rika announces, lying on your spare futon. “Did you get him anything?”

You didn’t. “... Yeah.”

“Really? What is it?” she cranes her neck to face you. “What’d you get him?”

She doesn’t want your gift being better than hers, it checks out. “Um… just a toy. A garbage truck.”

“Oh, okay,” she turns back to face the ceiling. “I made him a scrapbook with photos of us. I worked really hard on it… do you think he’ll like it?”

“He’ll like anything you give him.”

She’s already given him a ring—what else could compare to that?

Rika smiles. “I guess… you’re right.”

Soon enough, she goes to sleep, breathing softly beside you as your fan fills the silence of the night. You continue staring at the ceiling, making out the little dents despite the lack of light. You squeeze the hand that holds your under the cover, before closing your eyes.

You hear her softly breathe on a steady beat alongside the fan whirring in the corner, and you close your eyes, squeezing her hand tighter underneath the covers of your too-close futon.

You’ll have to ask your parents for some money tomorrow.

+

“Rika-chan isn’t here again,” Yūta says dejectedly. “Her granny’s too strict.”

“She hates her,” you say quietly.

Yūta looks at you, confused. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing. Your birthday’s coming up soon, what are you doing that day?”

“Uwah—you remember?”

“Rika-chan told me.”

“Oh, well,” he smiles sheepishly, “we have school that day, but after that I’ll be celebrating at my house. I’m thinking of just inviting Rika-chan and you over… um, so, will you come?”

“I’ll go if Rika-chan is going.”

He blinks, before a smile blooms on his face. “Okay! I’ll see you, then.”

+

It happens when you aren't there.

It never should have happened at all.

Orimito Rika is pronounced dead at the age of eleven, her body unrecognizable under the heavy weight of a blue truck.

next

[nerdieforpedro]

Filthy Hooligans

Lucian Flores x female reader

This fanfiction and my entire blog is 18+ MDNI

Main Masterlist / Lucian Flores Masterlist

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Showing up at Lucian's place at 3 am only means one thing. You both know it.

Warnings: Reader (nickname is cupcake) and Lucian are filthy, moisture, smoking, teasing, reference to public sex, exhibitionist behavior, fingering, 2 ass slaps (I think), unprotected P in V (wrap it people!), finger sucking

Notes: I came home from work last night. Fully intended to work on like 4 other WIPs I have. Fell asleep in my chair after eating something in my scrubs, woke up at 3 am. Wrote this, sent it to @musings-of-a-rose to read to over. And here were are. I hope I got the scuzz right. 👀

“I didn’t realize you were full of such bullshit Flores.”

“You’re not going to take that tone with me. I’m telling you not to come here anymore.”

“Is that why you opened the door for me, because I shouldn’t come here anymore?”

It’s your damn mouth. You always have something to say, you can never just accept an answer. Always questioning, always saying something. He needs you to understand that he isn’t saying this because he wants to. Any man in their right mind would enjoy a visit from you at 3 a.m. in nothing but a crimson silk nightgown, black kitten heels and that long black peacoat he remembered buying for you even though you said it was too much. Things are a little too heated right now, he needs to lay low and not have people coming to and from except family, which you care clearly not. Everything about you is loud, which he enjoys. Immensely, finds it entertaining, but not now. 

“I opened the door because I can’t have you causing a scene in my building. I don’t need this shit right now.” Flores is barefoot and pacing. The door man knows you downstairs, he’s one of his people who knows you visit usually at night several times a week. He shouldn’t have let you in, Lucian doesn't remember off hand if he told him or not. He needs to follow up on that later. 

He always has a slight sheen to him, no matter if it’s cold or warm or he’s actually inside. Hair lightly damp around the edges but still curly on top. His small soft belly jiggles over the top of his gray sweatpants he normally sleeps in. A hand at his temple, massaging it, while his other one holds his cigarette, half ash and falling onto the floor. He’s aware that this isn’t his usual calm, collected and suave self. 

“Seems like you need my mouth after all Lucian.” You’re starting your game. Calling his name like that, kicking off your heels, running your cool hands across his heated back. It feels too good. He stops pacing for a moment. “Lu, please. I’ll take care of you and then go.” The idea floats in his mind. To let you do it, have that hot moist mouth of yours, he can lay his head against the back of his couch and not worry about anything while you work. Kissing, sucking, licking, smearing, worshiping at the altar he has between his legs. “Lu-cian~ Lu baby…” Your voice is deepening raspy, lips on the back of his neck, fingers tracing the gold chain that has become his signature over the years. Once he feels your tongue where his hairline starts, he turns to grab your wrists, not too hard, but so you’ll stop. 

“You damn siren! Just fucking listen. You. Need. To. Go. Do not come back until I call for you. I mean it cupcake.” Releasing you he curses. This is not what he needs right not, to be worrying about you. Flores needs to be focused on a plan to get out of the mess, find where the leak is. One of the boys messed up, he needed to know which one. He expects to hear you storm out, welcomes it because then he can focus. 

“Lucy~” Dammit, he hates when you call him that. It pisses him off, you know it does. He can’t engage. He’ll fall for the trick you’re trying to pull on him. Sticking his cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table, he goes over to his kitchen and gets a drink of water, gulping it down. Trickles of it slide down his neck, he knows it’s hitting the vein you like to nibble and suck on when you ride him. He’s been half-swollen since you banged on his door. He knew what you came here for, the same thing you’d been coming for the last three months. Lucian doesn’t expect your next move though, to have your silk, up around your waist, you on your knees facing the back of the couch and opening yourself for him. “Lucian, fill me once. Once and I’ll go.” His hands hold tight onto the sides of his marble kitchen island. Watching you. You’re just as bad as he is. 

The two of you have been like this since the Burger King parking lot in your car. You’d pulled him in, got on top of him, rode him, told him you liked his gold chain and used a marker you found in your glove box to write your number on his arm. Well you tried to, he was too sweaty once you two finished so that was a good laugh. There was a speed warning ticket that you tore in half and you both exchanged numbers. You were sure your phone was somewhere in your car. He was going to meet his guys to check in and see how collections were going, you said you were going to pick your mother up and take her to the grocery store. Filth to match his grime. Different locations, indoors and outdoors. At times, ripped and stained clothing was all you two parted with. His sweat on your body, lipstick on his chest and neck. Sometimes he wouldn’t wipe it off before he went to his next stop, showing off what he’d been up to.

Flores took his time in walking over to you, watching you wiggle your ass for him. When he was behind you, he spread your thighs wider and inserted two fingers in your dripping cunt, curling them to have you call his name louder. “They slid right the hell in didn’t they? Only been two days since I was last in this pussy. You already want it filled again, don’t you cupcake?” You look over your shoulder and whine, he uses his free hands to swat your ass. 

“Hell yes Lucian. I want to leave dripping again.” You grind on his fingers, making him start to pump into you slowly. “Give me your thick cock and stain me again.” A single kiss to the back of your neck is all that Lucian gives you before removing his fingers and replacing them with his cock. He feels you spread, groaning from finally having what you want. His hands take hold of your hips but doesn’t move yet.

“I mean it cupcake. You don’t show up here again without me calling you.” He feels you pushing your hips back and he pinches your hips making you yelp. “Do. You. Understand. Me?” His grip starts to loosen and you feel him pulling out of you.

“Yes! Yes Lucian I understand. Damn. I won’t be here unless you call.” Said almost too quickly to understand, Flores chuckles before making his hips flush with yours, bottoming out within you.

“You’ll only listen with my cock inside of you, it figures, cupcake.” The growl Lucian releases as his pace quickens, has your thighs dripping with your slick and his pre-cum. You’re slumped over the back of the couch, writhing your hips in tune with his. Flores has an idea and takes your elbows in his hands instead of your hips, pounding that much harder into you. 

“I’ll listen to whatever you say with this cock of your Lucian,” Your head hands toward your chest, your moans are turning into squeals. He muttered soft curses in between his grunts, releasing one of your arms, placing his hand on your chest, then sliding it up to your neck. 

“Will you now? My dirty cupcake, suck my fingers. Maybe I jerked off before you got here.” He commanded. His palm was now on your chin as he inserted three fingers in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. He felt your walls starting to quiver and knew with his throbs he wasn’t too far off either. With several haphazard thrusts, Lucian gave you your filling as requested. It warmed you from the inside, churned inside of you. The loss was felt when he pulled out this time, removing his fingers from your mouth and pulling his sweatpants back up. He saw you close your legs and stagger when standing up, he debated helping you, assisting you with your shoes, but not your coat. Before you closed it, trickles of his come were visible on your thighs. He smirked. 

You wobbled a bit but found your footing on the way to the door. “Don’t wait too long to call Flores. I may have to get some other filling if you’re going to holed up here.” The way you smiled told him that you actually would seek out a replacement for him. The corners of his mouth turned downward.

“You see if they’ll make you wobble like that. I doubt they will cupcake. You’ll be missing this dick. If you don’t answer, there’s plenty of pussy out here.” Lucian took his pack out of his pocket and lighter, firing up another cigarette. The small flame glowed against the visible sheen of his skin and his gold chain that you’ve never seen him without. His lips around the stick making a small ‘o’ as he inhaled, holding it in before his released the smoke from his nostrils, tilting his chin up.

“I’ll probably have to try a few before I find another good fit. And I don’t know what other woman you’d be able to find that can get wet enough to handle you. See you Lu~” He watched you walk out the door and down the hallway to the elevator. You blew him a kiss and he nodded before stepping back into his apartment and plopping down on the couch. He took a long drag of his cigarette and sighed, exhaling the smoke again. He’d need to figure out the leak sooner rather than later, he’s not willing to have blue balls over this shit.

The beads of sweat on Lucian's neck 💦: @laurfilijames @avastrasposts @maggiemayhemnj @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @morallyinept @trulybetty @goodwithcheese @secretelephanttattoo @rhoorl @linzels-blog @yorksgirl @for-a-longlongtime @legendary-pink-dot @magpiepills @alltheglitterandtheroar @beefrobeefcal @pamasaur @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @theywhowriteandknowthings @gasolinerainbowpuddles @megamindsecretlair @daddy-dins-girl @readingiskeepingmegoing @guelyury @missladym1981 @heareball @sin-djarin @gwendibleywrites @katw474 @immarocketman @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

[yellow-berrys]

december boy, losing joy | sirius black x fem!reader

summary: rockstar!sirius black proposing to you, and the show that made him realise he would do it. established relationship.

warnings: none, allusions to a rough childhood and mention of cigarettes

(a/n: song in this drabble is original <3, really just a bit of prose italicised!)

“This next song is about a girl,” James fiddles with the knobs on his guitar, his voice cracking through the microphone. The crowd screams. 

“That’s right, Prongs,” Sirius grins from his place at the piano, “My girl. My biggest motivation and even though she might not be my biggest fan, I certainly am hers,” he takes a swig of water. 

He sweeps a glance around the arena, girls at the front drinking beer, some girls waving their undergarments at him, some guys drinking beer, some guys waving their undergarments at him. Some look envious and disappointed. Some are “awhhh”ing. 

He catches your eye in the VIP box, you grinning, barely visible as you stare at him. 

“And you’d be surprised that Sirius did pick up a pen and a book for this,” Remus drawls from his position at the bass.

“She’s certainly special enough,” Sirius looks up at you and winks, “Many of you might’ve heard it on the radio. Remus likes to call it “a lover’s musings” but I call it “December Boy, Losing Joy.” Yells and shouts echo as Sirius removes his earpiece. His eyes widen as he hears the noise and he puts it back in. You smile. You love seeing your boyfriend in his element. 

A bra is thrown onto the stage and someone yells, “Pick it up!”

“Sorry people, but I’m taken. Remember, I haven’t done it since ever.”

“No need to be jealous either,” Remus quips into his microphone, “Loving a two year old is harder than it sounds.”

“Hey!”

“Right, boys. We good to go?” James asks.

“Ready.”

James taps a hollow beat on his guitar slowly. The audience is quiet for once, as if instructed to do so. Remus starts strumming his bass, pick moving slowly as the sounds reverberate around the room. The tune is sweet and pleasant. You tap your foot slowly to it up in the box. Unknowingly, Lily is filming your reaction to it. You look down and follow the lyrics on the little card given to you by Sirius, waiting for him to begin. His eyes are closed, light illuminating his high cheekbones. You look at him like he’s your whole world and more.

He starts playing too. The melody is a toned down version of the Pop-esque one that you’ve listened to on Spotify so many times. You never knew the song was about you, thinking it was Remus’ penning or James’ tribute to Lily. But it’s beautiful. It’s also acoustic, you think, it gives the song a certain ethereal, timeless quality. Combined with your boyfriend with his hair up, eyelashes so long, eyes sparkling, you think this must be heaven. 

Sirius’ deep voice is angelic. “I was a December boy / Losing joy,” he sings. The crowd wave their phones to and fro, “Pretending I smoked cigarettes / Pretending I had no regrets.”

“Never one to be semantic / Always crude, brutal, unromantic,” The lyrics, now that you’ve thought about it, are undeniably Sirius’. 

“I was stone cold / And standing on my future’s threshold,” he smiles, “I was an incorrigible man / Shortening lifespan. My excuse was that I’m young / In years I haven’t spoken my mother tongue,” the crowd sings along.  

You hope the photographer they’ve hired is taking photos, because the warm spotlight illuminates where happy tears stain his porcelain skin. 

“December boy / Losing joy / Saying I’ll leave this town / Never wanting to settle down / December boy / Cast iron alloy / Wasn’t one who loved enough / Always trying to call your bluff.” 

“You were picture perfect / An idyllic circus,” you smile, idyllic, you had taught him that word, “Sweeping December clean / Smothering my burning gasoline / Never condescending of my ways / Lustrous, beaming gaze / What more, you cherish my past / Saying you don’t mind being my last / And you love the parts of me which I don’t / You tell me you will never leave me, you won’t.”

“I was a maximalist before I knew you / Rings on every finger, clouded world view / But you became my everything and now I need nothing more / And I told you this when you were unsure / Pretty thing / Please never leave me wondering / Where you are / I’m just a man without you, not a rockstar.”

“December boy / Losing joy.”

You sing along, reading the words, until there’s a diversion of them. You flip the card, but there are only lyrics to other songs there. The mood turns brighter.

“I was a December boy / Wearing black corduroy / Never one to be semantic / Now I’m a hopeless romantic / Not afraid of drowning in love anymore / Because my boat has arrived at your shore.”

“I tell everyone I’m going to marry you / Down Pleasant Crescent near Lover’s Avenue,” The crowd yells and shouts, “And this isn’t a proposal / You deserve one that is more than ambrosial,” he grins up at you, eyes smudged with adoration. 

“And I cannot believe / Heart stealing thief / That I was once a December boy / Losing joy.” 

The song goes viral. Everywhere on the internet you can see the tag #decemberboy, and the Marauders, however popular they already are, grow their fanbase tenfold. Sirius records the alternate version of the song again and he names it “December Boy, Losing Joy (Her Version)”.

The PR manager is very impressed, and gives all the boys a holiday. Remus goes home to see his old flame, James takes Lily on a trip to Honolulu and you and Sirius stay home. You’ve talked about getting married, and both of you are very keen on it. It’s just that Sirius is busy most of the time and the opportunity hasn’t ever arisen. But Sirius secretly has a ring picked out for you, one that he’s seen you look at when you think he wasn’t watching you at the mall. Lily has sent him the video of you beaming when marriage came up in his song, so he thinks you definitely like the idea. 

Lily and James should arrive the Sunday after, you learn, but they’re coming home earlier. Remus is already back but re-doing his house. 

Sirius comes into the room where you’re tapping on your computer, “Do you want to go on a date, pretty? The restaurant near the beach?”

Your cheeks heat up, “Now?” 

“When else?” He laughs, and he’s already wearing a suit. It clings to his body in all the right ways and makes you flustered and hot. His eyes gaze at you intensely. 

“Everything okay, lovely?” He stoops down to curl a stray lock of hair back. You’re still a blushing idiot in front of him, after all these years. 

“Yeah,” you choke out, leaving quickly, “I’ll get dressed.”

You had bought a new dress just a few weeks before, Remus’ old flame begging you to go date night shopping with her. 

You slip it on, getting ready with the aim to look date-able. Grabbing your things, you meet Sirius in the walk-in-closet, where he’s studying his ties intricately. He turns in greeting and he smiles cheesily, “Wow.” He’s blushing now too.

He picks out one that matches your dress. 

“You’re really, really beautiful,” he says as you tie his tie for him. 

You look up at him bashfully, “Just tryna catch up with you, handsome.”

“You don’t need to catch up with me, beautiful.”

All the way to the restaurant, he’s tense. He feels your small hand on his thigh, patting him. 

“You okay, Siri?”

“Yeah.”

His hands grip the steering wheel tightly, and his knuckles turn white. 

“Are you sure, honey?”

You’re so sweet he almost wants to ask you here. Even though the ring is still in Remus’ pocket. But he forces a smile, “Great.” 

Sirius is not normally this tense, but the meal is nice and he’s perfect. Instead of leading you back to the car, he pads onto the sand nearby, “You coming?”

“Shoes, Siri, shoes.” 

You sit down and he takes them off for you, holding them. 

“Why are we here?” 

“The view is nice, I thought you’d appreciate it.” 

“It is.”

You bask in the worldliness of it all. You miss Remus approaching quietly and handing Sirius the ring, having mastered the art of slinking away. It’s only when you see all of your friends approaching, a camera in every second person’s hand, when you frown. You turn to Sirius. He’s looking at you like he’s infatuated, and shakily gets down on one knee, dropping your shoes and taking your hands into his. Is this really about to happen? 

“My love, I love you with all my heart and I promised to give you a proposal more than ambrosial so here it is. These last few years have made me realise that I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side and let everyone else know that too. I want to love you as much as I can, and I want you to be with me in everything that I do, everywhere I go. Will you continue making me the happiest man in the world and marry me? Please?” 

The delivery is short and sweet, Sirius’ way of doing things. You grin, throwing your arms around him. 

“Yes. Yes!” 

Sirius breaks out into a big smile, and slides the ring you had been marvelling at the other day on your finger. 

He lifts you and kisses you, deep and passionate and loving. Your friends cheer. 

You spend the rest of the night on the beach with your December boy, finding joy. 

[thequiettwin]

Gory Like Bloody Prompts

Bloody, violence, murder, and death prompts! [I found these on a post and redid a few] Muse A/B can be any character and can be swap, it's just easier to read then sender/receiver. Anyways enjoy the prompts, comment/dm if you're interested!! ;3

Spoken:

" that's a lot of blood. "

" what did you do ? "

" come on. have a taste. "

" holy shit, are you okay ? "

" it looks worse than it feels. "

" it's a good look on you. you should get covered in blood more often. "

" oh my god. what the fuck ? is that what i fucking think it is ? "

[ standing over a body ] " oops. "

" is that a fucking body ? "

" before you say anything, it wasn't me. "

" look at me. this is who i am, no matter how much you pretend it isn't. "

" i'm not scared of you. "

" shut up and let me help you. "

" i got your shirt all bloody. "

" let's get you cleaned up. "

" i'm fine, just. . . give me a minute. "

" what the fuck is wrong with you ? "

" are you gonna help me clean it up or not ? "

" red looks good on you. "

" i. . . i didn't mean to. . . "

" sorry. fuck, i'm sorry. "

" it was an accident. "

" It's just a stab wound, don't worry about it "

" would you believe me if i said wrong place, wrong time ? "

" hey, look at me. i don't care. are you okay ? "

" you're bleeding. "

" what the fuck happened to you ? "

" you're getting blood on the carpet. "

" sit down before you fall down. "

" that looks like a you problem. "

Unspoken:

Muse A spits out a mouthful of blood at Muse B feet

Muse A spits out a mouthful of blood on Muse B

Muse A finds Muse B covered in blood

Muse A helps Muse B clean up after a kill

Muse A wipes blood from Muse B face with a washcloth

Muse A wipes blood from Muse B face with their thumb

Muse A licks blood off a knife

Muse A licks Muse B blood off their hand

Muse A lights up a cigarette a foot away from someone they killed before offering one to Muse B

Muse A stitches up Muse B wound [ optional wound placement ]

Muse A digs their finger into Muse B wound [ optional wound placement ]

Muse A bites Muse B hard enough to draw blood

Muse A draws a smiley face out of the blood they spilled :)

Muse A finds Muse B cleaning up a kill in a daze

Muse A looks Muse B in the eye as they shoot / stab / kill someone

Muse A flicks blood at Muse B to annoy them

Muse A slips in their victim's blood and Muse B laughs as Muse A fell down

Muse A comes home to Muse B covered in blood and waiting for them

Muse A tries to wipe blood off Muse B but the blood on their hands just makes it worse

Muse A takes an injury meant for Muse B

Muse A shows up on Muse B doorstep covered in blood

Muse A sits down quietly next to Muse B after they both killed someone

Muse A helps Muse B bury a body

Muse A leans on Muse B for support

Muse A kills someone and the blood spatters on Muse B

Muse A finds Muse B desperately trying to wash the blood off of themselves

Muse A kisses Muse B to taste the blood on their busted lip

[moonchildreads]

small town

Chapter 24 - Up Where We Belong

IN THIS CHAPTER: Graduation gowns, strawberry milkshakes, and Wayne asks a question [9.9k]

WARNINGS: dealing with grief (nancy, dottie, eddie to a less extent), writer not knowing how graduations are in the us

A/N: happy new year!!!! i hope everyone is having a wonderful start of 2024, here's your belated christmas gift from yours truly. if you read this and think "that's not how that works", then i don't know what to tell you bestie but i tried. i watched a TON of graduation ceremonies on youtube and i pulled heavily from those, aside from borrowing things from my own not-american graduation. i hope you enjoy it anyways! (and let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!) <3

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All we have is here and now All our life, out there to find

Friday, June 13th - 1986

Wayne Munson had walked the halls of Hawkins High School several times throughout recent years courtesy of his nephew’s misbehaving, but never making it past Principal Higgins’ office was turning out to be a problem. Resigned, he stomped on his cigarette gently before following a family that looked like they knew where they were going, regretting not taking up Eddie’s offer to escort him inside before he disappeared in search of his friends and fellow graduates. Graduation. Ain’t that a funny thing to think about, Wayne mused. The auditorium, he noted as he finally found it, was decorated in bright orange and calming forest green, a Class of 1986 paper banner hanging from the dark curtain that was doing its job as an unassuming background at the very back of the room. On the stage, there was a regal-looking wooden lectern, and a small table with stacked up rolls of paper tied with orange and green ribbons; next to it, a bunch of black chairs where teachers would probably be sitting during the event had been carefully lined up into a single row.

Excitement filled the air. It was in the murmurs of the people taking their seats, skimming their programs to proudly find the names of their kids printed on the semi-matte paper. It was in the way the school’s faculty could not stand still, barely having time to say hello to everyone walking in before they were off to check yet another little detail so everything could go as smoothly as possible. Wayne walked down the central aisle trying to find a good spot to sit in while feeling a bead of sweat go down his back. The last time he’d worn a suit, any suit, had been to his mother’s funeral eight years before; in fact, he still only owned that one suit. The temperature in Hawkins was steadily rising as June turned into July, and Wayne felt incredibly stuffy in his clothes but he didn’t dare wear anything less for such a special day. Eddie had defied all odds and was now a High School Graduate, the first Munson to walk to stage in three generations. Truth be told, his Uncle was willing to bet that he was actually the first one to do so in their entire family history, and thus, Wayne wore the suit, and the shirt, and the tie, and searched for a seat near the front to witness his nephew doing the exact opposite of what the whole town had always expected him to do: succeed.

Bianca, Donny’s mom, was fussing over her youngest grandson, Francesco, when she saw Wayne looking a little lost in the crowd and waved at him to wordlessly invite him to sit with them. The eldest Munson approached them with a smile, settling himself on the row behind the Vitale family who was so very busy trying to keep little Francesco and his (barely) older cousin Marco from running down the aisles and bothering other families.

“Good to see y’all made it,” Wayne commented, shaking Donny’s dad Angelo’s hand before turning to Vittoria, Donny’s heavily pregnant older sister. “Though I coulda sworn I heard you were on bed rest, missy.”

“I am, but what my doctor doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” she laughed, hand resting over her swollen belly. “This little lady hasn’t stopped kicking me all day, I think she’s more excited than I am to finally be outside the house!”

“It’s a special day, I’m sure the doctor won’t mind too much as long as we take it slow,” her husband said, kissing the side of her head. “Say hi to Mr. Munson, Marco.”

“Hi!” the little boy said, standing between his parents’ seats. “Whose Grandpa are you?”

“Marco!” his dad exclaimed, but Wayne laughed loudly.

“That’s not a grandpa, you dummy! That’s Eddie’s dad,” said Francesco, before grabbing his cousin’s hand and leading him towards Nonna Giulia down the row in search of the candy she always kept in her purse.

“I’m sorry,” Vittoria said with an apologetic smile. “They read this picture book about families at pre-school and now he thinks all men with white hair are grandpas.”

“Ah, it’s fine. I know I’m not gettin’ any younger,” Wayne joked, his eyes straying to the side of the auditorium where the seniors were finally getting ushered into formation.

The Vitale family craned their necks to see their boy, and Wayne in turn searched for his: Eddie was standing near Jeff towards the middle of the line, the two of them engaged in conversation as they waited for everyone to get into their respective places. It wasn’t that Eddie wasn’t paying attention to what his friend was saying; he was clearly answering back and keeping the chat going, but it seemed to his Uncle that he was searching for someone in the crowd, eyes scanning rows of unknown family members for a face he hadn’t yet found. Wayne was about to lift his hand to let him know where he was sitting, but it soon became apparent that Eddie hadn’t been looking for him - he had been looking for the short haired girl who had just ran into the auditorium with a panicked look on her face and an askew cap on her head.

Dottie hurried over to where her classmates were standing, enveloping a curly haired girl Wayne wasn’t familiar with at the very back of the line in an enthusiastic hug before doing the same with Donny. Wayne saw with an amused smile how Eddie waited patiently for his turn while she hugged Jeff, and how all his anxiety looked like it was melting away as he embraced her, eyes closed and face buried in her hair. After saying their hellos, Dottie kept walking to the front of the line where she greeted a strawberry blonde girl with excited hops and shared an equally loving hug with both her and Gareth. Her dad watched her with a fond smile from his place near the doors, a program held tightly in his hands. Taking pity on the poor man who Wayne knew was attending the event alone much like he was, he motioned for James to join their mismatched group who gladly took the offer, walking briskly towards the still empty seat next to Eddie’s uncle. James greeted Donny’s family before getting comfortable on his wooden chair and let a long breath out. Finally.

“Long morning?” Wayne asked, knowingly.

“Be grateful you don’t have a teenage girl in your house, Wayne. It was near impossible to get here on time,” James scoffed.

“Can’t be worse than Ed’s allergy to his damn alarm clock. It went off for a whole 15 minutes before he got up today.”

“Did it wake you up?”

“Nah. Was already up reading the paper but I wasn’t about to turn it off for him. He just rolls over and keeps sleeping if I do,” he said, and James shook his head with an affectionate smile on his face.

“Teenagers, right?”

“Yup. Teenagers.”

Over the few short months Wayne and James had known each other, they had learned to appreciate the quiet but hard work the other did for their respective kid. It wasn’t easy to be a single father, and even though Wayne wasn’t Eddie’s biological dad, there was no doubt in James’ mind that he fulfilled that role wonderfully in the boy’s life and heart. The Munsons and the Burkes had gone through a lot over the years, that much was undeniable, but on that hot Friday morning both fathers could be proud that their kids had made it to the other side relatively unharmed, all the while somehow finding each other to rely on along the way. If Dottie and Eddie were going to be inseparable all summer as they had been since the day they met, it was only fair James and Wayne got to compare notes on parenting and commiserate over the little annoying things they’d miss once the kids had left the comforting safety of their family homes.

Before they could continue their talk however, teachers began herding the seniors into a neat single file and getting into their places on the stage, Principal Higgins taking his spot behind the lectern. Excitement amplified as the crowd hushed - only suppressed coughs and a few little children’s voices could be heard in the quiet room. Wayne saw Higgins approach the mic and took a deep breath letting the pride he’d been feeling all morning take over him. The heat of the almost-here summer was forgotten outside in the parking lot, along with his smushed cigarette butt and the heavy weight he’d been carrying since a CPS agent left a scared 8-year-old Eddie on his doorstep all those years ago.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Hawkins High School Principal Thomas Higgins,” the man began, voice booming across the room with the aid of loudspeakers; Dorothy peered at him over the shoulder of the taller girl standing in front of her. “On behalf of the faculty, staff, and administration of Hawkins High, we’d like to welcome family and friends, and most importantly, to our seniors to the Commencement Exercises of the Graduating Class of 1986.”

Higgins paused for effect and the crowd followed his cue by breaking into happy applause - the aforementioned seniors gleefully waved to the few family members they could find within the sea of heads straining to look at them. The Class of ‘86 stood patiently to the side towards the back of the auditorium, waiting to be called into the main aisle where their names would be announced one by one and they’d go up the stage, accept their diploma, and go back downstairs to the rows of chairs at the front left that had been reserved for them. The full graduating class was small, no more than 40 students, and Dottie wondered how different things would have been for her if she were graduating with her New York classmates in a year that comprised around 400 kids instead of doing it in Hawkins, Indiana.

“Please, rise from your seats and join us in singing the National Anthem, followed by the Hawkins High School Spirit Song,” Higgins announced, and the sound of creaking wooden chairs filled the air as everyone followed his request.

Dottie sang along to the National Anthem without thinking too much about it, but when the first notes of the Hawkins High school song came through the speakers, she realized she had no idea what the lyrics were. No one had told her they’d be singing it during their only rehearsal, and certainly no one had spared a moment to teach it to her in the last six months. She wasn’t even sure she knew a spirit song even existed before that very moment. Eyes surveying over the crowd of family members, she saw that most if not all were singing along - the only ones not joining in were probably those who hadn’t attended Hawkins High and lived in a different town, perhaps even in a different state altogether. Heat rising up her chest under her dark green gown, she turned her head to the front, feeling very much like an outsider amongst her peers for the first time in months. Bryan Butler right behind her sang louder as the song was ending and she tried to not call attention to herself to let him take the spotlight. Once the music stopped, Principal Higgins neared the lectern to continue his speech.

“Thank you, you may be seated now,” Higgins said, and the wooden creaking resumed for a second as everyone sat back down to watch the rest of the ceremony. “The Hawkins High School Class of 1986 has experienced many memorable moments over the last four years, and Hawkins is proud of how these young graduates have worked and persevered through hard times to get to this day. We as faculty could not be prouder or more thrilled to celebrate with them, and we look forward to sending them off onto the next chapter in their lives. Parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and other family members, we are honored to have you here today as our guests to celebrate our graduates and we thank you for your support. Please clap along as the Class of 1986 proceeds to their places.”

The speakers began playing Pomp and Circumstance March No.1 in D and the crowd broke into fervent applause once more, Michael Allen leading the way for his fellow seniors to stand in the central aisle right below the middle set of stairs where they’d wait to be called to the stage. As they fell into their designated spots, Dottie finally recognized who had been assigned to stand right in front of her; it was Robin Buckley, the shy band nerd she had met at Family Video a few weeks earlier and briefly bonded with over their shared love of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. She was wearing white Converse sneakers with little drawings in blue and black ink, and the edges of her black rolled up jeans could be seen poking below her gown. She’s so cool, Dottie thought, not knowing that Robin was desperately trying not to scan the audience lest her nerves paralyzed her. Not even painting her nails bright orange had saved them from being chewed on this time around.

“Hawkins High School’s Class of 1986 was given the opportunity to choose a member of our staff to read their names as they cross the stage today,” Principal Higgins explained as three people already on stage stood from their seats. “I am honored to announce that this year, our Assistant Principal Mrs. Elaine Chandler will present the diplomas to our newest graduates. Mrs. Suzanne O’Donnell, Mr. Leopold Hauser, and myself will present them with their diploma cover, graduation medallions, and honor cords if applicable. Elaine?” he motioned for her to switch places with him.

“Thank you, Principal Higgins,” said Assistant Principal Elaine Chandler, adjusting her glasses on her nose as she looked down the list of names in front of her. “Allen, Michael,” she called first from behind the lectern, and the crowd clapped as Michael went up to her and received a hug and a rolled up certificate before moving down the stage towards the other teachers to shake their hands.

Dottie’s palms began sweating as more names kept being called and her time as a Hawkins High student slowly came to an end. Even though she had felt very much like an intruder looking in through a window during her first few months in the town, she had to admit that was happy here now - certainly much more happier than she’d ever been back in New York. Here all the teachers knew her name without having to read it from a file. Here she had a group of friends she’d go to literal Hell and back for, and she had a boyfriend who loved her the way she’d always thought love should be: easy and gentle. Here she had attended the best prom of her life, and her face would be permanently attached to a club that had given her the safety she’d never gotten anywhere else to finally, truthfully, be herself. Here Dottie had been at home.

While Barnes, Kathleen was getting her extracurricular honor cords for being part of the cheerleading team, Mrs. Chandler called upon Buckley, Robin and Dottie suddenly found herself at the front of the line. Robin climbed the steps with as much grace as she could muster while being pretty much mortified, and Mrs. Chandler soothed her with friendly pats on her back before presenting her with her diploma. The tall girl accepted it with shaky hands, her rings glinting under the stage lights, when a loud cheer rang above the polite applause of the crowd. Robin laughed, half embarrassed and half grateful, and when Dottie turned to see where the sounds were coming from, she found not only Dustin and Erica hooting and hollering besides a couple who were clearly Robin’s parents, but also that Steve guy that worked at Family Video with her, the one that Robin had described as her strictly platonic best friend with a capital P. It looked like retail did bond you forever after all.

Mr. and Mrs. Buckley looked between confused and amused as Steve pinched his bottom lip and let out a loud whistle - a chortle escaped Robin’s mouth while a cheerful Mr. Hauser, who had been her favorite teacher all four years of high school, put her graduation medallion around her neck, nerves all but forgotten before she skipped her way down to Mrs. O’Donnell to receive her extracurricular honor cords for being in band. Huh, that’s curious, Dottie thought distractedly. Didn’t know Dustin and Erica were such good friends with her and Steve. I wonder how they met.

“Burke, Dorothy,” called Mrs. Chandler through the speakers, jostling Dottie out of her musings.

This was it. The moment of truth. Dottie climbed the stairs and accepted a hug from Mrs. Chandler, hearing her friends cheering for her loudly in the background when her damp fingers came into contact with her diploma. She glanced at the crowd and time seemed to stop when her eyes found her Dad, a proud smile on his face and his program tucked under his armpit so he could clap loudly for his daughter. She waved at him and Wayne, who had also stood up to cheer for her, and time resumed after a blinding flash went off and she was whisked along to where the rest of the teachers were standing. She shook hands with both Principal Higgins and Mr. Hauser even though she hardly knew both men, and accepted her diploma cover and her graduation medallion before turning towards Mrs. O’Donnell. She was about to hug her teacher when the old woman presented her with her own honor cords, entwined green and orange ending in delicate tassels dangling from her manicured hands.

“That’s not- I’m not-” Dottie began.

“You have one of the highest GPAs in your year, besides being involved in two extracurriculars. Congratulations, Miss Burke. You’ve earned this,” O’Donnell said, and it was perhaps the only time in the whole semester Dottie had seen her genuinely smile.

“T-thank you,” she managed to get out, letting the woman drape the cords on her shoulders and rushing to her seat before she began bawling on stage.

“Hey, congrats!” Robin whispered once they were both seated next to each other, shaking her own cords lightly. The ceremony continued with no regards to their little chat.

“You too! Didn’t know I had qualified for any of this, I think everyone saw me have an aneurism up there.”

“Nah, everyone’s too nervous about not tripping down the stairs on their way back, don’t worry about it.”

“Coleman, Gareth,” Mrs. Chandler announced, grabbing Dottie’s attention.

Carver, Jason hadn’t even reached the sidestage stairs to go down after accepting his diploma when Gareth, in his haste to get everything over with, tried to climb two steps at a time and got his feet tangled in his dark green gown. Cunningham, Chrissy, who was right behind him, quickly caught his arm before he could lose balance and hit the floor. He quietly thanked her with red cheeks and embarrassed eyes before he finally went up the stairs, one step at a time. Chrissy went back to the front of the line while other classmates around Dottie and Robin snickered at the little mishap; Gareth accepted his diploma and other paraphernalia, and got the hell off the stage as quickly as humanly possible.

“Thank God that wasn’t me,” Robin muttered, and Dottie grimaced in agreement.

Gareth ended up awkwardly sitting between Jason and Chrissy, but much to his relief, they had all been assigned to the row behind Dottie. Taking advantage of the proximity, he leaned forward to talk to his friend as the ceremony progressed and Chrissy quickly joined, stopping to give Dottie a kiss on her cheek from her seat behind her as a second greeting. Jason watched the scene unfold and asked himself when had his girlfriend started hanging out with people he didn’t know. He thought he knew everything about Chrissy - when had that changed and to what extent? Selfishly, he couldn’t help but think about what the future would look like for them when they left for college. Chrissy was headed to OSU and he would be at Indiana State, almost four hours and more than 250 miles between them. Would this be their last summer together? He didn’t like to entertain that thought.

Davis, Monica, Foster, Kyle, and Hanson, Randall were some of the names they didn’t pay much attention to until Humphrey, Andrew was called to the stage. Jason distracted himself from his anxiety over his relationship possibly having an expiration date by clapping loudly for his best friend. Dottie and Gareth shared a mischievous look: Andy wasn’t wearing any bandages on his nose anymore, but the dark purple shadow under his eye was still very visible with the bright stage lights illuminating his face. After him came Hurley, Marcie, one of Dot’s colleagues from the newspaper club, and Kemper, Lucy, the girl who had sold almost everyone their prom tickets. Morgan, Theresa was on stage when Dottie realized she knew almost all the people in her graduating class by name now, even if they had never spoken to one another before. In New York, she’d never known the names of all the people within a single class, not since elementary school at least. She wondered if they remembered her, but then decided she didn’t care that the answer was probably a resounding no.

When Munson, Edward was called to the stage, Dottie and Gareth stood up to make as much noise as possible, both infinitely proud of the long haired boy with the charming eyes who was accepting the one piece of paper that had seemed so elusive all this time. Dustin and Erica hollered at him, and the rest of the Hellfire Club, still in line waiting to accept their diplomas, joined them in their antics. When Principal Higgins went in for a handshake, Eddie pulled him into a hug; the older man laughed and let it happen, a sort of fondness for the metalhead’s unwavering resilience present in their interaction. He accepted his medallion and his own honor cords for being the Chapter Leader of a student organization, and just before he climbed off, he approached the edge of the stage with a dazzling grin.

“Here it comes,” Dottie muttered, anticipating her boyfriend to give the middle finger to the entire town and bolt as he had declared he’d do on multiple occasions.

What Eddie did instead was find his Uncle in the crowd and bow deeply in his direction as people clapped for him like it was the end of a play. Wayne pretended to not be choking back tears as his nephew got off the stage, lips pursed behind his fingers trying to hide the grin threatening to break out on his face.

“Coward,” Gareth said, and Chrissy hit him in the shoulder.

There was no time for Eddie to do anything more but find his seat, because immediately after him came Patton, Jeffrey, and exactly ten names later, came Vitale, Donatello. The teachers laughed and cooed at his excited nephews jumping up and down the aisle, cheering for his favorite Uncle. One day in the not so distant future, they’d probably be handing them their diplomas too. Just how many faces in the crowd had walked through these same halls, attended the same classes, and some of them even had the same teachers as the Class of ‘86? A much younger and recently married O’Donnell, a Higgins as a History teacher prior to his Principal days, a Kaminski after his eldest son had just been born. Never before had the kids in the Hellfire Club felt as much part of the Hawkins High community as they did now - it almost felt unfair that they had to permanently leave the place to finally feel that way.

“And last, but certainly not least,” said Mrs. Chandler when there was only one person left to climb up the stage. “-Wheeler, Nancy, the valedictorian for the Class of 1986 who will say a few words for us and her fellow graduates after receiving her diploma.”

The crowd broke once again in loud applause as a red cheeked Nancy in her dark green gown and bright orange valedictorian stole greeted all her teachers with a few flashcards containing her speech in her hand. Karen Wheeler looked at her daughter with shiny eyes, infinitely proud of her little girl that’d grown into a smart, capable woman right in front of her. In a few months she’d be far away, following her dreams, and taking a piece of her mother’s hopes with her as she did so, but none of her fears. Holly raised her arms, silently asking to be lifted up so she could see better, and Karen picked up her youngest daughter, pointing at her big sister in the distance so she could wave at her. Nancy took her place behind the lectern and looked at the audience, a carefully put together mask over bittersweet eyes that Dottie had almost become used to seeing on her friend. If she stared into a mirror too deeply, she could recognize the dents in her skin of her own mask, now laying shattered at her feet.

“Honorable guests, Principal Higgins, Hawkins High School faculty, academic and supporting staff, friends, families, and graduates - good morning,”  Nancy began, voice soft but pleasantly clear. “It is with great pride that I stand here before you on such a special occasion to deliver this speech, which I promise I’ll try to keep short and sweet,” she lightheartedly smiled at her audience before she grew solemn once more. “However, before I start, I would like to ask you to join me in a moment of silence to commemorate the students and family members who could not be here today with us, and to remember the victims of the Starcourt Mall Fire on July 4th, 1985.”

Not a sound could be heard for a few heartbeats, and Dottie watched the faces of the town she’d come to love morph from amused to weary. There was real mourning here, a deep gash left open in a community that couldn’t heal properly because some wounds were just too deep to scab over. Eddie had told her everything he knew about what had happened, the official story everyone that hadn’t been involved in the tragedy repeated when asked, and her heart constricted when she saw Dustin and Erica in their seats with their heads down. They looked downright haunted. Steve sat next to them, watching over them with such turmoil in his eyes that Dottie had to wonder if there was something they were all missing about what happened. Had Steve also been in the mall with them? Had Robin, who was quietly sitting next to her like she was reliving a horror movie behind her eyes, her fingers absentmindedly tangling and untangling themselves in her honor cords?

Karen, sitting next to her unaware husband and emotionally closed off son, took a few deep breaths to keep her tears at bay and gently kissed Holly’s head before shifting her baby on her lap to hold her against her chest more tightly, like someone could snatch her off her arms at any given moment. Dottie twisted her mom’s engagement ring on her left middle finger and bit the inside of her cheek while blinking away the wetness gathering on her lash line. Not now, she scolded herself. Later.

“Thank you,” Nancy said, breaking the silence and moving onto her next flashcard. “Four years ago, we arrived at Hawkins High as children, and we are now leaving as young adults with our whole lives ahead of us. Some will go on to college, others will enter the workforce, but all of us will take the lessons learned here and let them guide us to become who we were always meant to be,” she turned to look to her side. “I'd like to thank our teachers for sharing their knowledge with us, for being patient and pushing us to achieve great things. With their help, our Hawkins High Mathletes reached their first ever state finals and brought home the silver medal earlier this year.”

There was a loud cheer coming from somewhere in the auditorium that sounded very much like Rick Stewart, exiting Captain of the Hawkins High Mathletes. Some people laughed goodnaturedly and joined in, the teachers clapping proudly at their labor being recognized. Nancy smiled and continued, knowing the applause would only get louder as she read the next part of her speech.

“I'd like to thank our coaches and counselors for making school more than just homework. You taught us about discipline, teamwork, and integrity, which led our basketball team to win the 1A North Central Conference Championship for the first time in 22 years,” the applause that followed was deafening, and it took several minutes for it to die down before Nancy could keep going. “I'd like to thank our families for supporting us in more ways that we could ever count, for chaperoning our dances and field trips, cheering for us at our sporting events, and attending all our plays with so much love and commitment, that our Drama Club was able to extend their winter run of West Side Story with a packed audience every night until their closure.”

The cheers this time were much more subdued, yet polite and sustained enough to not be embarrassing to the Drama Club members and their families in the audience. It was clear, however, where the town’s loyalties stood: Indiana’s love for basketball was known throughout the country, and Hawkins wasn’t the exception to the rule. Nancy looked at her graduating class and grabbed the last two flashcards in her pile.

“No one achieves success alone, and we are truly grateful for the help and guidance we’ve received during our years as Hawkins Tigers. However, if my classmates indulge me for a second, I’d like to ask each of you to think about a moment where you felt proud of yourself. Think about the things you’ve accomplished here, and the challenges you’ve overcome. A great woman by the name of Eleanor Roosevelt once wrote, you gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, ‘I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.’ You must do the thing you think you cannot do. Our time as Hawkins High School students has come to an end. We did it, Class of ‘86. We did the thing we thought we couldn’t do, and we’ve learned that we can take the next thing that comes along, so keep moving forward. I’m proud of you, and I hope you are too. Thank you, and congratulations to us all.”

Dottie followed Nancy with her eyes as she shook Principal Higgins’ hand once more and left the stage towards her seat. Her hands were shaking lightly, and her lips were pursed, but she almost looked lighter, like she’d left significant weight behind that had nothing to do with public speaking related nerves. Nancy’s speech had been beautiful, there were no doubts about that, but it was strange to think about someone like her looking at her high school years as something that had been horrific to live through. She was popular enough to not have been bullied, pretty enough to have been desired and looked up to, smart and well-off enough to never have to worry about not fitting in.

High school was certainly hard for almost everyone, but the way Nancy had spoken about it left a familiar bitter taste in Dottie’s mouth. If Eddie had been right when retelling her the town’s recent strange happenings, Nancy had probably been thinking about her friend Barb when writing her speech. She would have most likely graduated alongside her, maybe she’d be headed to a nearby college where the two girls could still see each other often, or to a completely different one across the country and they’d have to call every weekend with updates on their new lives. Holland, Barbara should have been called up to the stage between Hall, Suzanne and Humphrey, Andrew, but now she was just another name added to the always-growing list of people who ought to have been there, but ultimately couldn’t be.

“Thank you for that inspiring speech, Miss Wheeler,” said Principal Higgins, returning to his place behind the lectern to close out the ceremony. “Graduating is an amazing achievement for these students, and we here at Hawkins High are excited to see the things they’ll accomplish in the future. By the authority vested in me by the Governor of the State of Indiana, Mr. Robert D. Orr, I confer the appropriate diplomas for the Class of 1986. Graduates, please move your tassels to the left,” he smiled at his now former students. “Congratulations Tigers, you can now throw your hats!”

As they had been instructed during rehearsals, they threw their hats directly above them, not wanting to lose them on the way down before they could take pictures with them but in the excitement and elation of the graduates, some caps ended up on the floor, prompting kids to search for the lost items under their chairs while their classmates cheered above them and congratulated one another. Dottie hugged Robin again while Principal Higgins said his goodbyes through the loudspeaker without anyone really hearing him, families eager to leave the auditorium and get into their cars quickly to avoid the inevitable bottleneck at the entrance of the parking lot.

“Thank you all for coming and being part of this special moment,” Higgins said, voice ringing above the loud chatter and scraping of chairs. “Please drive safe and have a good weekend!”

“Dad!” Dottie called upon seeing James talking to Gareth’s family near their cars. He waved at her in acknowledgment and she turned to her friend to say her goodbyes. “I’ll call you as soon as I have my new schedule down, okay? We can go to the movies some day!”

“I’m gonna go see family up North next week, but I’ll call you when I get back,” Chrissy said, arm still tangled with hers. “We have to go see the new Karate Kid coming out soon, Ralph Macchio is so cute.”

“I’m not even gonna correct you on that because I do wanna see it with you, but just know I think you’re crazy,” the brunette said, laughing at her friend.

“Well, excuse me, bad boys aren’t everyone’s type,” the blonde retorted, a secretive grin gracing her fairy-like features before she pulled her into a goodbye hug. “I’m gonna miss you!”

“We’ll see each other soon! You go have a great trip, forget about this boring town for a while.”

After the girls said their goodbyes and went in separate directions, Dottie watched Chrissy greet her family with curious eyes. She didn’t know much about the Cunninghams and was surprised to see that her newest and most unlikely friend had a little brother she had never mentioned before. He must have not been the right age to be in high school yet or he’d probably be under Jason’s overprotective wing, especially if he was athletic like his big sister.

Chrissy might have looked small and dainty, but there was a certain fierceness cheerleaders had in their step - their aura had been painstakingly trained to command a room and demand attention. And yet, Dottie noticed that as Chrissy turned from her unassuming Dad to her elegant Mother, the brightness she radiated seemed to dim ever so slightly, even if her charming smile stayed in place.

“There you are! I was looking for you everywhere,” James exclaimed, her thoughts instantly lost to the wind. “Congratulations, honey. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Dottie melted into his hug, knocking her cap even more askew with his shoulder. “They gave me honor cords, did you see? I didn’t know I had earned them!”

“I’m seeing them now! You worked so hard, good job.”

“Congratulations, sweetie!” Lydia, Gareth’s mom, said, pulling her into a hug. “Have you met Gretchen yet? Gare’s big sister?”

“Hey, congrats,” Gretchen said with a polite smile on her face.

“Thank you, hi! It’s nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Likewise,” Gretchen said, eyes sparkling with mischief as she saw Gareth approach with two more kids toddling behind him. “I’m always really curious to meet any girl who would even talk to my brother in the first place, but you seem normal enough.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Gareth said, and Erica snickered.

“Honestly, he’s lucky we’re nice to him,” the middle-grader joined in, making Gareth groan in annoyance.

“You’re my friend, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Congrats, Dot!” Dustin said, hugging the older girl from her right side, prompting Erica to cuddle up to her on the left. “We’re super proud of you.”

“Aw, Dus,” she pouted, leaning her head on his. He really was like the little brother she’d always wanted and never had. “Thank you, you’re so sweet. I’m happy you two could be here!”

“It was fun! We enjoyed it.”

“I saw you guys with that Steve guy earlier, did you come with him?”

“You know Steve?” Dustin said, curious.

“Yeah, he works at Family Video with Robin!” Dottie said.

“You know Robin?” it was Erica’s turn to ask.

“Uh, yeah, we’re classmates? She was sitting next to me throughout the ceremony- wait, how do you know them? What am I missing here?”

“Nothing! Steve’s, uh- Steve’s our babysitter!” Dustin hurried to say. “Did you know he used to date Nancy a while ago? That’s how we met, through Nancy. And we know Robin through Steve. Hawkins is a very small place.”

“W-what? Nancy and…”

“Yeah, she dumped him in front of everyone at a party and he’s been all mopey and sad since then,” Erica said, prompting Dustin to elbow her. “What? Just the facts!”

“Uh…,” Dottie looked at Gareth, dumbfounded.

“Anyway,” Dustin continued, aware that multiple eyes were on him. “He’s our babysitter.”

“Dustin, you’re fifteen,” Gareth laughed. “You’re a little old to still have a babysitter.”

“My Mom’s protective of me, okay? I’m an only child.”

“And he’s a good babysitter?” Dottie asked, amused.

“The best. Steve’s… yeah, Steve’s great. More like an older brother figure than a babysitter,” Dustin smiled, clearly fond of the older boy. “You should hang out with him, I think you’d like each other.”

“Stop. Just stop,” said Erica, knowing where Dustin was headed.

“What?” he shrugged, feigning innocence.

“Alright, let’s take some pictures!” said Lydia, not having paid any attention to the kids’ conversation.

While they were in the middle of taking photos, the remaining Hellfire Class of ‘86 joined the group with their respective families. Eddie snuck up behind Dottie while she was distracted taking a picture with Jeff and picked her up, arms encircling her middle and spinning her around while she giggled unabashedly, hands coming to rest on his forearms when he put her down but didn’t let go. Wayne had to hide a chuckle while he talked to the other parents; his nephew really wasn’t as smooth and mysterious as he thought he was, and Wayne had been around the sun too many times to not recognize what he was seeing between Eddie and his little lady friend. Gretchen, in turn, looked at Donny and lifted an eyebrow at him quizzically.

“What have I missed?” she quietly said, a smirk lifting the corner of her lips. She’d always liked Donny the best out of all his brother’s friends, and was aware that as much of a good confidant as he was, he never shied away from gossip.

“He said he wanted to wait until after graduation to ask her out so I don’t think anything has happened yet,” Donny muttered back, crossing his arms and leaning closer to her friend’s big sister. “They’re totally gone for each other, though.”

“You don’t say,” Gretchen said and turned to Erica who looked very interested in their conversation. “What do you think?”

“I think he’s too chicken to ask her out,” Erica laughed. “But they have been looking really cozy lately. That’s suspicious.”

“Eddie knows she’s into him,” Donny said, making Erica’s eyes widen. “Forgot to tell you about that.”

“You bastard, I thought we had a good thing going and you’re withholding information from me? Nuh-uh, this is betrayal. I want reparations.”

“Oh, she’s feisty,” Gretchen said.

“Come to the restaurant this weekend, I’ll give you ice cream and we can catch up and compare notes,” Donny offered, genuinely interested in keeping his friendship with the fiery younger girl intact. “But it has to be this weekend, Dot starts working with us on Monday.”

“How big is that ice cream?”

“Big as you want.”

“Deal,” she put out her hand for them to shake on it, but it was merely a formality - Donatello Vitale had no intentions of ever crossing the one and only Erica Sinclair again.

As families began saying their goodbyes and heading to their cars, it soon became clear that Eddie and Dottie did not want the festivities to end so fast. They’d already taken multiple photos with everyone and with each other, waved Dustin and Erica off as they climbed into Steve’s red BMW, and even said hello to the Wheelers, but they would just not leave each other’s side, always fluttering around one another no matter what was happening. If James thought anything strange about it, he didn’t mention it, but as Wayne looked at his nephew’s beaming smile, he realized he didn’t have the heart to cut his happiness short when there was such an easy solution to their problem.

“You two have any plans for lunch?” Wayne asked James, finishing up another smoke.

“Not really, no. I was thinking of picking up some burgers to celebrate. Why? You have any suggestions?”

“Well, me an’ Eddie like to go to the diner down on Randolph on special occasions. Thought you might want to join us,” he smiled at the kids who were now both staring at him expectantly.

“Can we go, Dad?” Dottie asked with hopeful eyes. “They have crinkle fries - you love crinkle fries!”

“That’s really kind of you, Wayne, but we don’t want to intrude,” James was saying, but Eddie hurried forward.

“You wouldn’t be intruding, sir. We both graduated today, we can celebrate together!”

“Come on, Dad, they wouldn’t ask if they didn’t want us there.”

Both older men looked at each other with knowing eyes and James sighed theatrically before conceding, his daughter cheering happily at the new impromptu plans. The teens quickly headed in the direction of their cars deep in their own happy little world; their parents amusedly looked as Eddie opened her door for her and helped her in while they talked about burger combinations and debated about their orders.

“Meet you there?” James asked Wayne, also getting into his car.

“You bet. Come on, boy, quit the yappin’. You’ll see her again in ten minutes, she’s not gonna run away from you!”

“Jesus Christ, Wayne!”

Eddie and Dottie had already been to the diner down on Randolph a few times; some of them before they’d begun dating and once after, but never with their parental figures as unofficial chaperones. The booth at the back they loved to sit at was occupied, so they chose a table near the front instead - the diner was bustling with energy as multiple families had had the same idea as them and got a headstart on their kids’ summer holidays. Eddie helped Dottie with her chair, thoroughly enjoying how shy she’d get whenever he did something remotely gentleman-like, and plonked himself next to her, quickly engaging in conversation about the menu she was holding. James had no option but to sit in front of his daughter as Wayne took the seat in front of Eddie, both of them also busying themselves with their own menus.

The teens tried to act normal in front of their elders, they really did, but it was such a lovely day, and they were celebrating one of the biggest achievements in their short lives that it was as if they’d forgotten that friends didn’t usually look so smitten with one another. Wayne took little peeks at them over the bright laminated piece of paper in his hands, catching how Eddie was stroking the side of her arm resting on the table with his pinky finger while she talked; he loudly coughed when James put his menu down and took his reading glasses off, the unexpected sound making them jump and separate instantly just in time for him not to see them. A young and friendly looking waitress approached their table, pad of paper and pen in her hand.

“Hi! Are you ready for me to take your order or are we waiting for the wives to arrive?” she said with a perfect customer-service smile. Dottie blinked up at her twice, her face morphing into a blank expression.

“No, thank you, it’s just gonna be us four today,” James said politely.

Today, he’d said. Like Margaret and Maureen were off doing other things, like working or shopping or attending a jazzercise class, and couldn’t join them for lunch but they’d probably be around later. Like they weren’t gone forever. Like they were still alive. Nancy’s speech rattled around in Dottie’s brain, her eyes glazing over and her ears filling with invisible cotton. James and Wayne ordered their food, and Eddie ordered for both himself and her, very much aware that something was bothering her. Her sight was stuck to her Dad’s hand resting on the cheap laminate tabletop. The gold band that had been there on his finger since Margaret and him had said I do all those years ago taunted her, glinting under the fluorescent lights of the diner. They’d promised each other forever, and what did they get? What did she get?

“Dot,” Eddie muttered, hand sneaking down the table to settle on the exposed skin of her knee. “Darling, can you hear me?”

“Huh?” she turned to look at him in a daze.

Behind him, there was a table where a family sat: a father, a mother and a daughter, barely older than she’d been when she’d lost the most important woman in her life. The baby gurgled in her Mom’s arms, and the woman cooed at her, noses nuzzling against each other’s. Dottie turned her head towards the other side of the diner where a mother was cleaning up a little boy’s face, chocolate staining his chubby cheeks.

She had just graduated from high school and her mother wasn’t there. She hadn’t been there when she got her first period, during her first heartbreak, or when she won a spelling bee at age seven. She wouldn’t be there when she graduated college, when she got her first job, when she got married to the boy who was holding onto her leg with worried eyes. She would never be there, not today, not tomorrow, not ever. It was always going to be just them.

“Honey, are you okay?” James asked, leaning forward.

“I-I’m sorry,” she managed to get out before she stood up and bolted outside and into the parking lot, her chair scraping against the floor in her haste to get out of the diner.

“I’ve got it, sir,” Eddie said before he sped after her, his chains rattling with every long step he took to catch up with her.

In silence, James and Wayne watched their kids through the huge windows next to their table. When Dottie saw Eddie running behind her, she turned her back on him, hugging herself as she tried to keep her emotions together. She lifted a hand to wave at him over her shoulder and said something - probably that she was okay, that she didn’t need help so he should go back in - but as he came closer, it was evident that the storm that had been brewing inside her all morning was on the brink of overtaking her. All it took was feeling his hand hovering on her shoulder for her knees to buckle as she folded onto herself, Eddie instantly rushing forward to catch her and pulling her into his chest, her back rising up and down violently as she sobbed into his graduation gown. He chewed on his lower lip as he held himself together, never one to cry in public where people could see him and judge him for it. He muttered something into her hair, his chin resting onto the crown of her head, gently rocking her side to side as her sobs subsided.

“She was really lonely until we came here, y’know,” James said, breaking the quiet that had fallen on their table. Wayne could only look at his nephew, the gentleness he’d always known he’d possessed perfectly on display. “All her new friends are great to her but Eddie… you’ve got a good boy there, Wayne.”

“They’re both good kids,” Wayne said, matter-of-factly. “It’s a damn shame they’re so young and been through so much already.”

“Yeah, it is.”

In the parking lot, unaware that they were being watched, Dottie lifted her head from Eddie’s chest, an embarrassed smile on her lips as she fanned her face with her hands in an attempt to dry her tears without ruining what was left of her mascara. Eddie, still holding onto her, blew on her cheeks; she laughed, heart feeling equally heavy and light at the same time. There was joy and levity to be found in shared grief, that was something new she had learned from him.

“Sometimes I feel like Eddie understands her better than I do,” James admitted, fingers toying with his wedding band.

“They understand each other in ways that you and I never will,” Wayne mused. “That ain’t a bad thing. Actually, I think it might be healthy.”

“Mhm,” James agreed, half lost in his own thoughts.

Dottie squeezed Eddie one last time like she was mentally preparing herself, gathering strength for whatever came next, and nodded once to let him know that it was okay to let her go. Eddie followed her inside quietly, holding the door open for her as they filed in and sat once again at their table. They both looked very tired, and perhaps even a little bit flustered at having to face their guardians after bolting out of the diner so unexpectedly. Dottie leaned forward to grab a napkin to blow her nose.

“M’sorry,” she said, eyes low. James grabbed her hand gently.

“You okay, honey?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. S’just a lot, you know?”

“I know,” her Dad said, watching her glance at Eddie next to her.

“Can I… is it okay if Eddie and I go to the lake after lunch?” she asked, shy. “We want to burn some cards.”

“Yeah, of course,” James said, knot tightening at the base of his throat and fingers tangling with his daughter’s.

Eddie was silent through the entire interaction, hands hellbent on shredding the paper napkin in front of him to minuscule pieces. Wayne could feel their table shake as he bounced his leg frantically, something he had long understood as his nephew’s tell when holding back tears. The waitress, unaware of what had just transpired, came back at that moment with their drinks and two milkshakes for the teens. Dottie smiled at them with wet eyes, and Eddie had the indecency to look sheepish: she hadn’t mentioned to him she wanted one, but he knew she loved strawberry milkshakes from this specific diner because they made them with real strawberry ice cream and not the powder. He must have ordered them when she blanked out. The simple gesture felt like balm for her anguished soul.

“Well, I’d like to propose a toast,” Wayne said, dissipating the remaining uncomfortable tension at their table. “To the Class of ‘86.”

“To the Class of ‘86,” James joined him, clicking their bottles of Coke together in the air.

Food arrived shortly after, and as an easy conversation sanded whatever edges were still sharp for the moment, Wayne observed the tender behavior of the kids sitting in front of him. It wasn’t as playful as it had been before, no, this felt much more… intimate. Considerate. Muted, yet still softhearted. Not missing a beat in the story she was telling to her Dad, Dottie grabbed the cherry on top of her milkshake and left it on top of Eddie’s. He gave her a toothy grin before popping it into his mouth, and she shook her head at him fondly. Yeah, this ain’t a bad thing at all, thought Wayne, taking a bite out of his food and laughing along with James at the ridiculous gossip Dottie and Eddie were sharing about their now former classmates.

“Okay, hold on a second before you run off,” Wayne said, as his nephew ushered his friend towards his van.

After lunch was done, it was decided that Wayne would drive Eddie and Dottie back to their trailer so they could get Eddie’s van and head to the lake for what they were calling The Card Ritual. The eldest Munson didn’t really understand what it meant, but it seemed that James knew what they were talking about so he didn’t ask too many questions about it - all he knew was that the kids were going to buy some cards at Melvald’s and then burn them, and that Dottie was emotional over the whole thing. If burning some paper brought peace to her heart, then who was Wayne to judge? He’d indulged in far more destructive coping mechanisms throughout his youth, evidenced by his unshakeable smoking habit.

After they’d said goodbye to James, they climbed into Wayne’s truck and headed to Forest Hills, graduation caps, gowns, and his suit jacket now discarded into the backseat. The heat kept rising in the early afternoon and Wayne just wanted to get out of his clothes, drink a glass of icy cold water, and take a nap in his undergarments next to his trusty fan, but he felt like there was a pressing conversation to be had before he went in and could finally relax on his day off.

“What’s up?” Eddie asked, Dottie coming to a stop next to him.

“I just gotta know, kid,” Wayne turned to her. “Does your Dad know about you two or do I have to play dumb with him?”

“W-what? What do you mean?” she asked, nervously.

“I may not be young, but I ain’t blind, sweetheart,” he smiled. “You’re not in trouble, I just wanna know how to act around your old man, that’s all.”

“He doesn’t know,” Eddie muttered, grabbing Dottie’s hand and surprising her with how quickly he confessed. “No one knows, we haven’t told anyone yet.”

“Except Chrissy,” Dottie said.

“Except Chrissy,” he conceded. “She knows because I asked her for advice, but she’s the only one.”

“How long?”

“Huh?”

“How long has this been going on?” Wayne asked, pulling his lighter out of his pocket.

“Uh, like two weeks? We’re not, like- we’re not official yet,” Eddie scratched his neck uncomfortably.

“Not offi- Edward,” his Uncle hardened his stare. “I taught you better than that.”

“Shit, I swear I was gonna do it today! Wanted to wait until after graduation, I’m not trying to be a flake-”

“It’s okay! We talked about it,” Dottie said, hanging onto his arm. “I don’t mind waiting, we just thought it’d be best to keep it a secret for now,” Wayne turned to look at her, wary. “Mr. Wayne, please, I’d announce it at the next Town Hall meeting if he’d let me.”

“We share all the same friends,” Eddie explained. “They’ll wanna know all the details, and I just- she breaks up with me and I’m the biggest loser in Hawkins, you know how those assholes are.”

“Oh my god, stop calling yourself a loser!” she whined.

“Don’t break up with me, and I won’t be!” he argued back, but it was clear he was being silly about it.

“Okay, so what’s the situation here? You two dating or not?” Wayne asked, getting back on topic.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, smiling down at her with hearts in his eyes. “We’re dating. I was gonna ask her to be my girlfriend officially later today but I might as well do it now since you’re so nosy.”

“It’s not like anything’s changing anyways,” Dottie said. “We just didn’t put a label on it, but I’ve kinda been his girlfriend since that party we went to a couple of weeks ago.”

“Hell yeah you are. And I’m your boyfriend, right?”

“No, you’re my private driver,” she deadpanned. “Of course you are, Eddie, what kind of question is that?”

“Just making sure, darling,” Eddie said, and Wayne snorted at how smug his nephew looked.

“Well, then… you two can go now, I guess. I’ll keep the secret.”

“Thanks, Mr. Wayne,” Dottie said, coming to hug him. “We’ll tell people soon, we just want a little bit of privacy for now. The guys can be so nosy sometimes.”

“Don’t I know that, kid,” he chuckled. “I’m real happy for you two.”

“I’m really happy too,” she whispered to him, a bashful smile on her face.

Eddie finally let her into his van, her white sundress and summery sandals a stark contrast against his ripped jeans and chains. They were an odd couple if one only looked at their clothes, but it was so clear that they vibrated at the same frequency that Wayne couldn’t help but think that he should have expected this development sooner. He didn’t know why he’d chosen to believe them when they’d said nothing had happened between them the night of the party. His nephew went towards the driver’s seat when he called to him again.

“Ed, a word,” he was dead serious as Eddie jogged to where he was standing.

“Yeah?”

“You treat that girl right, okay?” Wayne said, voice low so she wouldn’t hear from the van. “I don’t wanna hear shit from her Dad about you bein’ stupid with her.”

“I know.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not gonna fuck this up, Wayne. I love her,” Eddie told him, so sure of what he was saying that it knocked the wind out of his Uncle’s lungs for a bit.

“Love, huh?” Wayne laughed softly, and Eddie shrugged with red ears but looked so very happy. “Go, have fun. And take care of her.”

“I will,” he nodded.

“I’m proud of you, son,” Wayne said, ruffling his hair roughly like when he was just a boy barely taller than his own hip. “And your Momma would be too.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, eyes full of unshed tears. “I’m proud of me too.”

taglist: @munsonology @kurdtbean @every1lovesanunderdog @eg-dr3amer3

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

I wrote another I'll dedicate to @dark-elf-writes since I got them to make their own to.

1. Highway to Hell AC/DC

 Izuku strapped on his gloves, smirking to himself as he listened for the familiar noise of Eraserhead poking his nose into things. Any second…

 THERE!

 Izuku sped out of his hiding spot, jumping over top of Eraserhead with his roller skates.

 “See you Eraser!” he called back at the stunned hero who had not expected the vigilante/graffiti artist to escape that way. Nor that the head start combined with the speed the skates gave him would enable ‘Rabbit’ to move quicker. Cursing, Shouta turned to see what the other had done.

 A huge mural of Endeavour with bloody hands, the words ‘what happened to your son Touya really?’

 “Problem child,” Shouta growled. 

2. Treat you Better- Shawn Mendes

 “You could do so much better,” Katsuki told Deku who glared at the other man.

 “He’s better then you are,” Deku said. Katsuki watched as the green hair man stomped off to clutch to the person they were discussing. Fucking glasses, Iida Tenya. The fucker had swept in to woo his omega when they were teenagers, nevermind Katsuki having claim on the nerd. And Deku let him! Let the fucker woo him away from his proper alpha.

 Katsuki shook his head, standing up straight. He’d prove Deku who his alpha was. Glasses wouldn’t be an issue for long when Katsuki proved his might. They were supposed to be together. 

3. Bang Bang -Jessie J., Arianna Grande, Nikki Minaj

Dancing had been Izumi’s passion alongside for heroes forever. It even helped her get into heroics, all the dancing and gymnastics she got had enabled her to kick ass in the test. 

 However it also drew some unsavoury attention. Izumi held her arm above her head, ignoring the stares from some of her classmates as she did her stretches. 

 “Look at her-” she heard Mineta begin and she straightened up, head whipping around to glare. The purple teen fell silent as Ochako appeared, handing Izumi a bottle of water.

 “Hey Izu, can you show me that high kick thing?” Ochako asked. 

 “Of course,” Izumi said, smiling. “We can imagine kicking a purple ball.” 

 Both girls grinned as Mineta squeaked and the staring portion of the class found other places to look. 

4. River - Bishop Briggs

BANG. Izuku did not look away from his target as Keigo entered the firing range. Izuku just kept shooting as his brother-partner-friend walked up to him. 

BANG.

 “It’s not that bad,” Keigo mused out loud.

 “They’re making me be a TA for UA,” Izuku snapped. “I’m the first years age.” BANG. 

 “Socialization is good for you. They’re getting flack for you being a hero so young,” Keigo said. He watched as Izuku hit the target over and over again. “You could potentially meet that guy you’ve been drooling over. Endeavour’s kid.”

BANG. Izuku scoffed. “I’ll be his TA.”

 “We can arrange the contract so it’s allowed.” Keigo grinned. Izuku paused in shooting.

 “Oh?” 

 “You wanna get down bad for the kid? We’ll make it happen,” Keigo smirked. “As a thank you for helping convince that blue flames guy to turn good for me.”

 “...You’ve got a deal.”

5. Diamonds -Rhianna

 “I choose you,” Izuku said, his hands going up to grab onto Hitoshi’s face. “I choose you and I always will.”

 “But…” the purple haired man choked out. “What about…” his eyes glanced at where Izuku had run from. Where Inko was waiting for her son to finally ‘come to his senses’. Where Bakugou wanted to drop to one knee despite Izuku not dating him.

 “I choose you and I always will,” Izuku said. He leaned forward and kissed the man. Hitoshi’s breath hitched and he leaned in to take the kiss fully. His arms dropped to Izuku’s waist as the green haired man’s went around Hitoshi’s neck. 

 “I love you Izuku,” Hitoshi said.

 “I love you to, and I will always chose you because you chose to love me for who I am, not the face they want,” Izuku whispered. 

6. What a Time to be Alive -Fall Out Boy

 Izuku shook his head, laughing as he leaned back on his hands, a cigarette clutched in one hand. “What a time,” he choked out.

 “It’s the new age, new things.” Dabi laughed back, pulling on his own cigarette. He looked out over the city. “Think about tagging that building?” the vigilante/arsonist asked Izuku, pointing at a particularly charred one. “Endeavour’s fault.”

 “It is about time to poke at his property damages,” Izuku grinned, lifting his hand to pull on a smoke. “How bad should I go Touya?”

 “Call me that again and I’m shoving you off the roof. And I saw go nasty.” Dabi grinned with all his teeth, the same smile being returned by Izuku. 

 “Let’s go cause chaos,” Izuku laughed. 

7. Burn Your Village -Kiki Rockwell

 Izumi looked at the staff of Aldera, all of them almost cowering from her gaze, their eyes refusing to look at her. She barred her teeth, feeling the anger surfacing in her chest. A hand landed on her shoulder. Izumi turned to glare at the man touching her.

 “Sorry little sister,” Tomura said, lifting his hand. Izumi looked back at the people who had tormented her. Who’d looked the other way. Who had all known. They had to have known, right? She was a kid. Yamanaka was an adult. There was no reason she was there that late with her grades.

 “I want them dead,” Izumi said as Kurogiri walked forward, carrying Tomoe who was more then happy to be transferred to her mother. Her eyes narrowed in on one teacher, one she knew had lingering gazes. “I want it to hurt.”

 “Of course,” Tomura laughed, as Kurogiri began creating his portals. Izumi smiled with all her teeth. 

 They had a force at the USJ, distracting the heroes. So no one came looking when the first teachers began screaming as the Nomu came lumbering out.

8. The Kid I used to Know - Arrested Youth

 Izuku sometimes wondered about how his life had gone this way. When he stood in the shadows of the destruction he helped etch out. When he was busy drinking down cheap whiskey in an effort to forget what had happened the night before. When Tomura laughed, patting his shoulder and telling him he did good. 

 What happened to the child who wanted to be a hero? 

 What happened to the boy who wanted to save people?

 Did he die with his mother, when his father took him away?

 (Later, as Izuku watches his final destruction occur, he knew that the kid was still there. As the bar burned from the cheap whiskey poured everywhere, he knew the kid was there, just a bit different.)

9. ATE -Jane Bell

 “And for the recap of the sports festival, there was what some are calling an upset! Midoriya Izumi, Quirkless dancer and member of the hero course, won the entire thing.” the news anchor said, looking shocked.

 “It’s not that surprising,” his coworker said. “Midoriya has been known as one of the world’s best dancers for years, even at her young age. Her being trained hard isn’t unexpected.”

 “She still beat Quirked-” the first man began but Shouto turned off the screen. He felt his hands shake. They put her down? They put down the girl who had kicked everyone asses because she didn’t have a Quirk? Or they were trying? 

 She’d won, she’d beat them all into the dust and they still said it wasn’t enough. 

 “You’re not the only one with problems,” her voice echoed in his head when she told him off for thinking he was the only one with issues. He swallowed, thinking of the fire in her eyes.

 Idiots.

10. Warriors -League  of Legends, 2WEI, Edd Hayes

 Izuku took a breath, lifting his head. He felt Hawks behind him, the hero watching him. “Ready bro?”

 “I’m ready,” Izuku said, squaring his shoulders. Hawks hesitated, looking at the fourteen year old boy. 

 A fully fledged hero. A Quirkless hero, molded to be perfect. A way for the Commission to have complete control over someone by making them something never seen before. 

 Hawks looked out at the city they were about to patrol. “Alright, let’s go.” He jumped off the roof as Izuku lifted his grapple to shoot out. He swung down to being patrolling the streets. It didn’t take long for them to find a fight.

 “GREEN KNIGHT MAKES DEBUT” is accompanied on all pages by Izuku kicking a bank robber in the face as Hawks comes from the sky.

[prpfz]

She/Her. 21+. Looking for various fandom roleplays. 🐺

I write on Discord or through Tumblr messages. I like to stick to Tumblr for plotting. I write in third person, past tense and usually around 200-400 words. I work full-time during the week so daily replies will not happen. I try my hardest to get them out within 2-3 days. I do not double and have no triggers.

I'm open to MxM, FxF, and MxF ships, although MxM is my strong preference so please at least be open to discussing MxM pairings, even if we end up going with something else. I'm mostly looking for canon x canon pairings but am willing to discuss some canon x OC. I lean towards romantic pairings and writing NSFW/smut (with a healthy dose of plot). Neither of those are a requirement, though.

I'll just be listing my main muses for each fandom. I have a lot of favorite ships. I'm always open to doing others. There's only a slight chance I'll turn a ship down.

Baldur's Gate 3:

Abdirak

Arvir (male OC ; Dark Urge Tiefling ; "Cleric of Bane")

Astarion

Gale Dekarios

Ketheric Thorm

Rolan

Rugan

Wyll Ravengard

Zevlor

Doctor Who:

Delgado!Master

Dhawan!Master

Eleventh Doctor

Fifth Doctor

Fourteenth Doctor

Harry Sullivan

Ian Chesterton

Jack Harkness

Rogue

Second Doctor

Sixth Doctor

Tenth Doctor

Game of Thrones (TV Show or the ASOIAF Books):

Beric Dondarrion

Bronn

Davos Seaworth

Daenerys Targaryen

Jaime Lannister

Margaery Tyrell

Lyn Corbray

Petyr Baelish

Robb Stark

Roose Bolton

Sansa Stark

Stannis Baratheon

Thoros

Tywin Lannister

Interview with the Vampire (TV Show Only):

Armand

Lestat de Lioncourt

Marvel:

Benjamin Poindexter

Billy Russo

Bruce Banner

Bucky Barnes

Frank Castle

Loki Laufeyson

Nathan Summers

Andrew!Peter Parker

Ray Nadeem

Tony Stark

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Movies or Game):

Drayton Sawyer/Slaughter

Johnny Sawyer/Slaughter

Nubbins Sawyer/Slaughter

Tex Sawyer

Tinker Sawyer

The X-Files:

Alex Krycek

CGB Spender/The Cigarette Smoking Man

Fox Mulder

John Doggett

Walter Skinner

If you want to work something out, please like this post and I'll get back to you ASAP.

Please only like this post if you actually want to do something.

give a like and anon will get back to you

[yansimstorythatiwillnotworkon]

#3

Wednesday

Info-Chan was being suspiciously generous today. Out of nowhere, Info comes up with an “idea” to get Osana expelled for having things in her bag that she shouldn’t. Cigarettes, answer sheets, so on and so forth. And since Ayano apparently did Info-Chan such a “big” favor with Mai’s phone, it was enough to get her a freebee from Info-Chan. In this case, that was cigarettes.

As she walks into the class, she notices that a couple of students are still hanging around in there. Two of them were from outside of her class anyway. One of them was Kokoro Momoiro, who was meant to be in class 1-2, and Bea Gemron, another transfer student who was meant to be in class 2-2. They seemed to be hanging out with Hana Daidayama at the moment.

Outside of them, there was Enpitsu Byoga, who actually belonged to the class, although it was strange that he was here instead of outside of his clubroom. When Ayano approached him, he looked up suddenly, but looked back down, just as suddenly disinterested. “Hello, Ayano.”

“Enpitsu. What are you doing in class?” Ayano asks, tilting her head to the side.

Enpitsu shrugs. “I’ve been in several rooms. Geiju told me that if I’m so focused on beauty, then I should draw all the girls in school and figure out which ones would work as the best muse.” He rolls his eyes. “Which is a complete waste of time- we all already know who the most beautiful girl in school is.”

The artist was always pretty narcissistic. If anything, his obsession with beautiful girls probably stems from him wanting someone who “measures up to his beauty”, or something of the sort. So far, the only person he’s bothered with trying to get as his muse was Meka Nikaru, who ironically has rejected his attempts.

“Simp says what?” Bea calls to Enpitsu, who turns to her with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” He asks, but scoffs as soon as he realizes that he fell for that trick. “She’s just jealous. “

“Of you or Meka?” Ayano asks, only receiving a shrug in return.

Instead of answering Ayano’s question, Enpitsu taps his pen in his notebook. “Have you ever thought of letting your hair down and styling your hair differently, Ayano?”

Ayano furrows her eyebrows. “I am not going to style my hair like Meka’s.” She states in finality.

Enpitsu sighs, “I guess asking you to dye your hair wouldn’t work out very well, either.” He mumbles, sketching something on his notebook. “I do recommend changing your hairstyle, though. Some people might bother approaching you if you did. Maybe they’d even give you compliments.” He shrugs nonchalantly.

Ayano frowned but did contemplate that idea. As she did, Enpitsu received a text on his phone. His eyes widened briefly, and he paused in thought before slowly lowering his phone and giving Ayano a smile. “Yan-Chan, my favorite classmate!” He purrs, and Ayano herself cringes at his purely artificial smile.

“You know, we’ve been friends for a while..” He starts, but immediately stops when he sees Ayano’s unamused expression. “I need you to convince Meka to be my muse.”

“Why?” Ayano inquires, tilting her head to the side.

“Why do I need her to be my muse, or why should you?” Enpitsu asks, but waves her off and answers both anyway, “I need Meka because she’s the most beautiful girl in this school. My one goal is to capture beauty, and yet she runs from me.” He sighs.

Meka didn’t actually flee from Enpitsu, but Ayano was sure she would if it came to it. From what she’s heard, Meka just locks the doors to the club room until he goes away. “As for why you should..” Enpitsu scans the classroom, sweeping a hand beneath his chin in thought. He then shrugs, “A favor for a favor? I’ll tell my whole club that you’re just the sparkliest angel out there. Even though the majority of them won’t care. Myself included.”

“I’ll take the favor bit.” Ayano claims, folding her arms and shrugging. “How would I get her to do that if you couldn’t, though?”

Enpitsu hums in thought, but likely not much thought considering he continued drawing for at least 20 seconds before speaking back up. “Uh, maybe she needs a new perspective? Some artists work better while looking from a different angle at the same project. Maybe if she hears from another person that she would make a lovely muse, she’ll cave!”

“Meka isn’t an artist.” Ayano points out. In return she only gets an irritated sputter and dismissive hand-waving from Enpitsu.

“I’ll even pay you to get this done, Ayano.” Enpitsu claims, digging into his bag. “If I don’t get this task done Geiju says he’s going to make me draw something hideous instead. Plead her if you have to.” He says, standing up and putting a twenty dollar bill in Ayano’s hand.

“Right..” Ayano rolls her eyes, putting the money in her pocket. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Enpitsu twiddles his fingers with a satisfied look. “You’re the lovliest!” He cheers. “Still not the most beautiful, though..”

Ayano glares at him, tempted to throw him a middle finger, but just realizing that that would probably lessen the reward. She pulls out her phone as she walks down the hallway. Texting Info-Chan, she asks:

Yan-Chan: How would I go about befriending Meka Nikaru?

__

Uekiya hums lightly, pruning some plants in the greenhouse with a pair of scissors. “Hey, Uekiya.” A familiar voice calls out to her.

“Oh, Kyuji. Hello, dear!” Uekiya places the scissors down and takes a handful of the access leaves that she cut off. She brings them to a corner of the garden that serves as compost. “Have you reconsidered joining?” She asks, wiping her gloved hands together briefly.

Kyuji hums, rubbing the back of his neck. “I.. I want to, but..” He pauses briefly, deciding on how he should word it. “I’d.. like to join with… that girl I told you about? If I can convince her to join. I just.. I guess want to stay with her? But- that’s only after I manage to confess to her.” He says, trying his best to sound confident but immediately faltering at the thought of his crush.

Uekiya giggles. “Aw, that’s so sweet! You sound just like my father!” She claims, “He used to go on and on about how he would always try to stick to my mother’s side when they were in highschool. So cute!” She hums, putting a hand on her cheek sweetly.

Grabbing the scissors again, Uekiya slips the gloves off of her fingers and hands them to Kyuji. “I’ve given you plenty of tips so far, I want to see how well you cut some flowers!”

“I, uh.. Me..?” Kyuji asks, slowly putting the gloves on and taking the scissors. “I mean.. Which ones do I even cut?”

“Anything on that row.” Uekiya points to the left side of the greenhouse. “Pick whichever ones you think Osana would like. I’m sure it would mean a lot more for the both of you if you could proudly say that you cut them yourself!”

Kyuji blushes lightly at the thought. “..maybe.. Wait, how’d you know it was Osana?”

“‘Kyuji totally stopped hanging out with his friends to stalk Osana’! ‘Bros before hoes where??’” Uekiya laughs at the fact that she was even using such language. “I’m sorry.. Those gyaru girls really do have mouths on them. No one takes it seriously, of course, because of how dramatically it’s formatted online, but plenty have heard of it.”

“Ah.. God, that’s…” Kyuji sighs, “How much do you wanna bet that Osana or her friend already saw that?” He asks, nervously rubbing the back of his hand.

Uekiya hums, pulling her mouth into a stiff smile. “I… think it’s best not to worry about that right now, hehe..”

Kyuji exhales, attempting to rid of all of his dread at that realization, and instead focuses on what flower he would pick for Osana. Hopefully if she did hear about the rumours, it wouldn’t affect how she sees him.

__

Meka furrows her eyebrows, tilting her head to the side at Ayano’s explanation. “Did Enpitsu send you to convince me to be his muse?” She guesses immediately and correctly despite Ayano’s attempt to seem social and friendly. Maybe that didn’t appeal to Meka?

Sighing, Ayano deflates visibility. “How’d you know?” She asks, despite reaping no positive reaction from Meka she still continued her girly-ish persona.

“He’s sent his club mates and a couple of his few friends to convince me before.” Meka explains. “But none of them have bothered doing anything for me in return, so I always refused.” She shakes her head in disapproval. “God forbid I ask Enpitsu to do something himself.”

Ayano crosses her arms, allowing her friendly mask to drop just slightly. “That’s ironic. I’m doing this in exchange for a favor from him. I’m sure I’ll love hearing him complain afterwards.”

Meka nods, her face still straight. “Aye, as many can agree. I’m sure if Enpitsu could learn to look outside himself he’d be a much more pleasant company.” She clears her throat. “But that’s besides the point. I’ve a favor if I have to become Enpitsu’s muse.”

“Thought so.” Ayano hums, smiling lightly in an attempt to return to her “girly” persona.

“I’d like to use the storage room frequently since it’s really only ever used for…well, storage.” Meka crosses her arms, “If you could move some things out of the storage room and place them elsewhere in order to make room, I would be grateful. I know a lot of that stuff is pretty big, so at least pushing the majority from one side to the other would be very much appreciated.”

Ayano nods. “I’ve got it. I’ll get it done in no time, you just wait!” She says with a confident smile before heading downstairs to get started on the task immediately.

__

The storage room was generally pretty clean. Some shelves and spare chairs were in the way. Not to mention a large chest in the middle of the back of the room. Maybe it would be alright if Ayano just moved everything she could from the right side to the left. Everything on the right side seemed to be generally light anyway.

Ayano exhaled, stretching her arms, legs and back before starting off with the foldable chairs and tossing them on top of one of the vaulting boxes. There was what looked to be a spare dolly to the right as well. Assuming that Ayano would need it to move something else, she moved it outside of the storage room, which caught the attention of one of the Sport’s Club members. One of the slowest ones, who was still in the middle of his stretches.

“Yano-San?” Mantaro called, jogging over. He was clearly exhausted from whatever his clubmates were still in the middle of doing, but tried his best to slow down his breathing. “Uh..what’re you up to?” He asks, looking at her and then peeking to the storage room.

Ayano stands up, kicking the dolly away a bit. “I’m neatening up the storage room for Meka. She said she’d likely need the room, and chose this room due to it hardly ever being used.” She explained, putting a hand on her hip confidently.

“It’ll take a while alone, won’t it?” Mantaro asked, blushing a bit with a shy smile. “I mean.. Would you… like some help? It’s- totally fine if you don’t need it.” He assured her nervously. Ayano wondered if his nervous demeanor was normal when talking to acquaintances or if her attempt at a confident stance was working on him.

“I’d appreciate that, Mantaro.” Ayano said with a smile before holding a hand out to the shelves. “I plan on moving those over to the left side so that the right side is completely clear. I’ll need to move all the access maps and vault boxes off of it to make it easier, though. Do you think you could help me with all that?” She asks, placing her hands on her hips.

Mantaro nods with a big smile. “Totally! I mean- of course, you can count on me!” He says gladly, happy to be able to help at all, Ayano assumed. He rolls up his sleeves and Ayano kneels down to grab a couple of mats.

By the time the two were finished, it was 7:45. A bit of time left, but Ayano did need to hurry up if her goal was to get this whole process over with efficiently. “How’s this look, Yano?” Mantaro asks, his brow dripping with sweat.

The entire time, Mantaro rushed to do several things that Ayano was planning on doing, likely as a workout or maybe to make out that he wasn’t with his club at the moment. Or maybe just to be even more helpful. Whatever the reason, it worked out significantly for Ayano, as in the end the storage room was cleaned up and nearly cleaned out and she’d hardly broken a sweat.

“Perfect!” Ayano gives Mantaro a firm pat on the back. “Good job, Mantaro. You worked great there!” She assures him, making Mantaro blush and beam with pride.

“No problem! Call on me any time, okay?” Mantaro holds two thumbs up to her, “I’m gonna go finish up with my club, though. See ya!” He waves happily, jogging out of the gymnasium.

Now that that hassle was out of the way, she just needed to stop by the science club and then Enpitsu. Perhaps he could call Hana, Kokoro and Bea out of the classroom for a moment? That would give Ayano just enough time to put the cigarettes in Osana’s bag, Ayano decided.

__

“I see.” Meka hooks a hand beneath her chin as she admires the photo Ayano took of the storage room. “I’m impressed you could do all of that on your own. And in such a short amount of time.”

“Actually, I got a lot of help from Mantaro. One of the sport’s club members.” Ayano explained. She was sure that if she’d claimed all of the credit for the work that was done, Meka would assume that she was a very strong and efficient person. Which she wasn’t just yet. With enough gym classes, though, Ayano was sure that she could fix that quickly.

Meka nods. “I appreciate the help, Ayano. I’ll be sure to thank Mantaro as well later.” She says to Ayano, “Tell Enpitsu that I’ll be his… muse during cleaning time. I’ve things to do until then.”

“Got it. Thanks a bunch, Meka.” Ayano waves, heading downstairs and towards her own class.

Once she arrived at the classroom, she saw that all four of the people that were there earlier were still inside. Enpitsu’s expression lights up as he spots Ayano, and he raises to his feet. “So? What’d she say? Did she finally agree? What took you so long?”

Nodding, Ayano puts a hand on her hip. “That’s right.” She furrows her eyebrows at his last question. “I did a task for her in order to get her to agree. She says that you’d never bother getting your hands dirty.”

“Ha! She knows me so well.” Enpitsu chuckles and shakes his head, flipping some of his hair in his regular narcissistic fashion. “Anyway, did you need that favor now or can I–”

“--I need it now.” Ayano interrupts. Enpitsu rolls his eyes at this with a reluctant expression. “Distract them for a minute.” She nods to the trio of bullies.

Enpitsu looks back at the chatting girls before raising an eyebrow Ayano’s way. “For what?”

Ayano shakes her head. “I just need you to. Get them out of the room for a minute.” She demands, crossing her arms.

“Right, so you can put a whoopie coushin on Hana’s chair.” Enpitsu rolls his eyes again. Despite his sarcasm, he does end up getting up and swiftly walking out of the room.

After a moment, he peeks his head back in. “Hey, there’s, like.. A wad of cash on the floor in the cafeteria?”

“It’s mine!” Hana claims, darting out of the room. Kokoro gapes, likely not wanting Hana to snatch someone else’s money, but stays quiet and follows her.

“Watch it be, like, two bucks.” Bea chuckles, following the two. Now that the three of them were out, Ayano was able to swiftly slip the cigarettes into Osana’s bag.

Ayano sighs, not feeling as accomplished as she hoped she would, likely because the process was a lot longer than she thought it would be. Maybe she should try doing her peers’ tasks more often. Maybe that would prevent having nearly no one to ask for help?

As Ayano thinks over more ways to make her schemes more efficient, Hana’s whining comes to her attention. “This is what you call a wad of cash, Byoga?!” She hisses, throwing the two dollars back at him. Enpitsu only shrugs with a smile, walking back to his seat.

Bea quickly snatches the money up and snickers. “Hey, two dollars is two dollars. I can buy eight whole gumballs with this.” She claims, stuffing the two dollar bills into her skirt pocket.

“Whatever.” Hana rolls her eyes, sitting at her own seat as Kokoro and Bea sit on a desk near her to continue chatting.

Ayano leaves the room, heading towards the guidance counselor downstairs. Enpitsu watches as she leaves, wondering what exactly she did, but shrugs it off and continues sketching.

__

Genka’s eyes widen slightly at Ayano’s accusation. “And.. you know this how?” She asks, folding her arms with a serious expression.

“I saw her move them from her pocket into her bag this morning.” Ayano claimed, tapping her fingers onto her other hand in faux nervousness as she avoided Genka’s gaze.

“That’s a clear violation of the rules, not to mention completely illegal. This could call for serious punishment..” Genka sighs, neatening up a stack of papers on her desk. “Strange. She’s usually such a well-behaved young lady.” Shaking her head, Genka continues. “I’ll ask her about it later. Thank you for telling me this.” She says, nodding to Ayano.

Ayano respectfully bows her head to Genka before quietly leaving the room. Serious punishment, huh? Considering a minor smoking is illegal, she should face expulsion, right? It only makes sense, surely.

As Ayano hoped, Genka came to Ayano’s class and called for Osana. Around five minutes later, Osana came back looking ashamed, but not holding the expression of dread Ayano thought any suddenly expelled student would have. As Osana sits down and puts her bag back on the hook of her desk, her question is answered. She wasn’t expelled.

“What happened..?” Raibaru asked quietly, her voice low as to not get the teacher’s attention.

“Miss Kunahito found…cigarettes in my bag. I’m not sure how they got there..” Osana says with, frowning. Raibaru gave her a shocked look. “Not even my parents smoke. It doesn’t make any sense..!”

“Osana.” Mrs. Fukahori called, glaring at the pigtailed girl. “Miss Genka already had a talk with you. I expect no further interruptions.” She said, putting a hand on her hip.

“Right. Sorry, Mrs. Fukahori.” Osana bows her head quickly, getting a nod from Mrs. Fukahori, as she turned to continue writing on the board.

As Osana pays attention to her book once again, Raibaru whispers. “Glad to hear you aren’t in any serious trouble.” She smiles and nods, and Osana smiles back.

But why not?

Ayano’s phone vibrated quietly, and she took a look up at her teacher’s back before looking down to her phone.

Info-Chan: I don’t think just one event will get Osana expelled.

Info-Chan: If anything, you would probably have to frame her for the whole week.

Yan-Chan: Why didn’t you tell me this before I went through all of that effort?

Info-Chan: It’s one thing to hear about something and another thing to experience it :)

Yan-Chan: I’m running out of time. What the hell do I do?

Info-Chan: Let’s try again tomorrow. We can probably get something done then :D

Ayano: But we have the rest of the day.

She doesn’t recieve a reply from her oh-so-helpful informant, and she quietly stuffs her phone back into her pocket. What was Info-Chan planning? Did she have a plan? Or was she just stringing Ayano along until she inevitably failed?

Ayano puts her cheek in her hand as she leans her elbow onto her desk. What could Info-Chan gain from all of this playing around? Was this the form of entertainment that she really wanted? Just leading Ayano astray instead of allowing her to properly stop her rival?

“Aishi!” Mrs. Fukahori smacked a ruler against the board, making Ayano flinch. “What on Earth has got you all so distracted?” She sighed, pointing the ruler to a question she’s written on the board. “Can you answer this?” She asked.

“Sorry.” Ayano replies blankly, “Yes, I can.”

__

Tomorrow was a “new day”, Info-Chan would say. But what good is a new day if it’s your last? Or second to last?

What non-harmful plan could Ayano even try at this point? If this didn’t move fast enough, she would have to take drastic measures.

[takeyourcyanide]

INTRO + MASTERLIST

INTRODUCTION:

You can simply refer to me as “Cyanide,” if you’d prefer.

On this blog, I primarily write Soul Eater fanfiction and detail my experiences with certain psychological ailments. In terms of my writing, I often explore themes of violence and gore, trauma, and mental illnesses/disabilities such as schizophrenia, psychopathy (not always a diagnostic label, and some view it as being “outdated” but is still in use within not only research papers but also amongst the aspd community, for example, to differentiate between sociopathy and psychopathy/two subtypes), and autism spectrum disorder. My works act as explorations and psychoanalyses. All this to say, my writing may not always be (honestly, never is) suitable for all audiences, depending on the work. It’s best that those interacting with my blog be at least above the age of thirteen, if not older. This blog is more suitable for teen and up audiences. I typically post in English, though you may find that I ramble in Russian at times. I’ll most likely post in any language I happen to learn, but English and Russian are my two primaries.

POSSIBLE TWs FOR MY BLOG:

Mentions of r@pe, suicide, homicide, and self-harm

Detailed descriptions of violence and gore, including the likes of self-mutilation

Unreality, such as beliefs that would be considered “delusional,” and may trigger those in a fragile state of mind

Addiction; excessive smoking, drinking, etc. to cope

TAGS OFTEN USED ON MY

BLOG:

Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/No Comfort, (Often Underage) Smoking, (Often Underage) Drinking, Schizospec, ASPD, Unreality, Autism, (SFW) Age Regression, Schizophrenia, Soul Eater, Psychopathy, Mental Illness, Soul Eater Fanfiction, My Writing, My Fanfiction, etc.

REQUESTS:

I accept any and all writing requests. If I am, for any reason, uncomfortable with a topic, then I will make that known. All this to say, if you’re someone who worries whether or not the other person will set boundaries, you needn’t worry with me in any sense at all. Simply send a request in through my asks (👁️), and I’ll complete it when I’m able to.

I would like to add that I do happily accept constructive criticism and suggestions, as I’d like to improve!

MASTERLIST:

While I have considered writing for other fandoms, I have found an outlet in the Soul Eater fandom. So, if needed, this will be updated to accommodate other fandoms, though I don’t see that happening anytime soon.

Key:

👁️ - Angst

🪆 - Fluff

💪 - Action/Adventure

🩻 - Smut

FRANKEN STEIN ADJACENT:

Desperation: A Collection - 👁️(?) - 802

Кошмар - 👁️/🪆(?) - 2 914

Starving - 👁️/🩻/🪆 - 1 813 (so far)

I Know That The Writing’s On The Wall - 👁️ (?) - 744

Child Psychology - 👁️ (?) - 1 525

Pathetic - 👁️ - 4 289

Rationality; a Supposed Loss and Deterioration - 👁️ - 2 408

Sundown - 🪆 - 1 676

Icky - 🪆 - 1 600

Flatline - 👁️/🪆 - 759

Oxytocin - 🪆 - 1 246

Equilibrium - 👁️/🪆- 1 448

A Star-filled Night - 👁️ - 323

Жизнь просто бесконечный круговорот - 👁️/🪆 - 800

Loss - 👁️/🪆 - 2 550

A Tarantula and a Praying Mantis - 💪 - 5320

Woeful - 👁️/🩻 - 10 192

Do What You Will - 👁️ - 6 978

That Which Destroys You, You Adore - 👁️/💪 - 3 733

Leaches - 👁️/💪 - 4 786 (total, so far)

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell - 👁️/🪆 - 2 710 words

Muse of Tragedy - 👁️ - 1 130

Prey - 👁️ - 3 315

Until I Ache - 👁️/🪆 - 2 113

Closer - 👁️ - 1 893

Forest - 👁️/🪆 - 3 165

Ceaseless - 👁️/🪆 - 3 164

There Will Come a Day - 👁️ - 796

Mutt - 👁️ - 3 501

Too Much - 👁️ - 4 009

Cycle - 👁️/🪆 - 4 209

Сигареты (Cigarettes) - 👁️ - 1 073

Anguish - 👁️/🪆 - 5 578

Бесконечный ад (Endless Hell) - 👁️ - 1 395

Blood Red - 💪 - 2 475

Bells - 👁️/🪆- 2 650

Self-Cannibalism - 👁️/🪆 - 2 491

Пустой (Empty) - 👁️ - 2 926

Repulsion - 👁️ - 14 434

A Buzzing - 👁️/🪆 - 2 973

Time - 👁️/🪆 - 2 867

Adoration - 🪆 - 2 893

Secret - 👁️ - 1 419

Cute - 🪆 - 2 411

Reflection - 👁️ - 1 983

A Sense of Calm Before the Inevitable Storm - 👁️/🪆 - 948

SPIRIT ALBARN ADJACENT:

Sundown - 🪆 - 1 676

Icky - 🪆 - 1 600

A Tarantula and a Praying Mantis - 💪 - 5320

Woeful - 👁️/🩻 - 10 192

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell - 👁️/🪆 - 2 710

Until I Ache - 👁️/🪆 - 2 113

Closer - 👁️ - 1 894

Forest - 👁️/🪆- 3 165

Too Much - 👁️ - 4 009

Cycle - 👁️/🪆 - 4 209

Anguish - 👁️/🪆 - 5 578

Blood Red - 💪 - 2 475

Bells - 👁️/🪆 - 2 650

Пустой - 👁️ - 2 926

Repulsion - 👁️ - 14 434

I Want a Divorce - 👁️/🪆 - 6 084

Secret - 👁️ - 1 419

MARIE MJOLNIR ADJACENT:

Oxytocin - 🪆 - 1 246

Equilibrium - 👁️/🪆- 1 448

Жизнь просто бесконечный круговорот - 👁️/🪆 - 800

Loss - 👁️/🪆- 2 550

Do What You Will - 👁️ - 6978

Ceaseless - 👁️/🪆 - 3 164

Too Much - 👁️ - 4 009

Сигареты - 👁️ - 1 073

Anguish - 👁️/🪆- 5 578

Self-Cannibalism - 👁️/🪆- 2 491

Пустой - 👁️ - 2 926

Repulsion - 👁️ - 14 434

A Buzzing - 👁️/🪆 - 2 973

Time - 👁️/🪆 - 2 867

I Want a Divorce - 👁️/🪆- 6 084

Adoration - 🪆 - 2 893

Cute - 🪆 - 2 411

A Sense of Calm Before the Inevitable Storm - 👁️/🪆 - 948

~*{}——————{}*~

Have a song now that you’ve reached the end!

[darkrpfinders]

She/Her. 21+. Looking for various fandom roleplays.

I write on Discord or through Tumblr messages. I like to stick to Tumblr for plotting. I write in third person, past tense and usually around 200-400 words. I work full-time during the week so daily replies will not happen. I try my hardest to get them out within 2-3 days. I do not double and have no triggers.

I'm open to MxM, FxF, and MxF ships, although MxM is my strong preference so please at least be open to discussing MxM pairings, even if we end up going with something else. I'm mostly looking for canon x canon pairings but am willing to discuss some canon x OC. I lean towards romantic pairings and writing NSFW/smut (with a healthy dose of plot). Neither of those are a requirement, though.

I'll just be listing my main muses for each fandom. I have a lot of favorite ships. I'm always open to doing others. There's only a slight chance I'll turn a ship down.

Baldur's Gate 3:

Abdirak

Arvir (male OC ; Dark Urge Tiefling ; "Cleric of Bane")

Astarion

Gale Dekarios

Ketheric Thorm

Rolan

Rugan

Wyll Ravengard

Zevlor

Doctor Who:

Delgado!Master

Dhawan!Master

Eleventh Doctor

Fifth Doctor

Fourteenth Doctor

Harry Sullivan

Ian Chesterton

Jack Harkness

Rogue

Second Doctor

Sixth Doctor

Tenth Doctor

Game of Thrones (TV Show or the ASOIAF Books):

Beric Dondarrion

Bronn

Davos Seaworth

Daenerys Targaryen

Jaime Lannister

Margaery Tyrell

Lyn Corbray

Petyr Baelish

Robb Stark

Roose Bolton

Sansa Stark

Stannis Baratheon

Thoros

Tywin Lannister

Interview with the Vampire (TV Show Only):

Armand

Lestat de Lioncourt

Marvel:

Benjamin Poindexter

Billy Russo

Bruce Banner

Bucky Barnes

Frank Castle

Loki Laufeyson

Nathan Summers

Andrew!Peter Parker

Ray Nadeem

Tony Stark

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Movies or Game):

Drayton Sawyer/Slaughter

Johnny Sawyer/Slaughter

Nubbins Sawyer/Slaughter

Tex Sawyer

Tinker Sawyer

The X-Files:

Alex Krycek

CGB Spender/The Cigarette Smoking Man

Fox Mulder

John Doggett

Walter Skinner

If you want to work something out, please like this post and I'll get back to you ASAP.

Please only like this post if you actually want to do something.

.

[shatterthefragments]

🎧? also happy to share the tag with you 💖💖💖

MUAHAHAHA ongreenergrasses’ ask and you shall receive 🤝 shatters’ new!! Ask and you shall receive!!!

So

I went to my other music app (Apple Music my beloathed (had a free trial and then it ended :P) I haven’t used in a Long Time (bc I downloaded stuff off the free music library from my library and off cds etc) to see SO we’ll keep going until we get to a song I really actually like. Know AND really really like 😘✌️✨

(I haven’t really used this. In a long time. High school????? Early college?? Idk. I think I got Spotify in college around the time TUA season 1 came out?)

I’ll start it off with my favourite: (which was sixth on the list and I still listen to this on spotify to this day every once in a while 😘)

R.I.P 2 my youth the neighborhood (in order of appearance in the song but I think the first one or the last one I included is my favourite)

Might be a sinner and I might be a saint

I'd like to be proud, but somehow I'm ashamed

Everybody's talking, but what's anybody saying?

[mama] there is only so much I can do

Tough for you to witness but it was for me too

You gave me the key then you locked every lock

What do I do? What do I do?

I don't believe it if I don't keep proof

I don't believe it if I don't know you

//(I need a cigarette)

And the shuffled songs to which i had to look up all the lyrics to:

First up we have Muse’s Time Is Running Out

I uh. Should probably listen to muse but I just don’t really seek them out normally even though I am vibing to it.

Fave lyrics:

[Verse 2]

I wanted freedom, bound and restricted I tried to give you up but l'm addicted Now that you know I'm trapped, sense of elation You'd never dream of breaking this fixation

You will squeeze the life out of me

2: Lana del Ray’s High By The Beach

I don’t really listen to her that much anymore tbh. But also I love her specifically especially Summertime Sadness and Caitlyn Tarver’s cello cover of it

You take the wheel

I don't wanna do this anymore

It's so surreal, I can't survive

If this is all that's real

3. Stars Align Lindsey Stirling (jsut about lyric-less but i love her) it’s literally jsut some vocalizations and “when the stars align”

4. Rock is Dead Marilyn Manson (who I don’t listen to anymore)

You Sell all the living for more safer dead // anything to belong // we’re so full of hope and so full of shit //

5. Polarize twenty one pilots

I wanted to be a better brother, better son

Wanted to be a better adversary to the evil I have done

[splinter-sister]

💿 for: Blake, Edward, Robert, Ron, andd Sinbad uwu <3

[ACCEPTING]

Giving me a whole album here! I'll go in order. This will be long so I'm putting it under a cut for the sake of everyone else's dash!

I have a few that came in mind for Blake. Such a sweet guy with the worst of luck. At first, I thought Goodbye Yellow Brick Road would fit, but I took a moment to think more on what he's doing now. In the end, I switched it to this song. The whole jackrabbit motif and giving a slight nod to Shadow fit so much better for him. This is also one of my favorite albums from a while ago and really hits on the need to run away.

For Edward I needed something much more resentful and stubborn. He's got that feeling of self-destruction that Keane Reeves had in Constantine. Smoking a pack of cigarettes a day, knowing it'll kill him. He still does the right thing but doesn't care about his own self in the process of protecting others. A ticking timebomb of sorts. Taking into account his past and how he is with Blake, I am actually stuck between two options. So I'll post both and let you decide!

Roberts got me a bit stumped, so I'm leaning more on the vibe of the song to match him. Also, being one of the muses I've interacted the least with makes it harder. (I absolutely want to see more of him, though!) He gives me Mother Mother feelings in how they compose their music. A lot of their hits have a more angry or seething vibe to them. Leaning into the Punk genre in some ways. With him being in the circus, being possessed and not having a normal childhood I think Normalize is a song that works well into the satire of him.

Okay. Call me predictable for this one, but the first song I thought of and refused to change for Ron is Stray. It's literally perfect for him! The tune, the lyrics, everything! "Is there a place waiting for me? Somewhere that I belong. Or will I always live this way? Always stay." IT'S PERFECT!!

I refuse to pick from Swashbuckle for Sinbad.... I am turning away from the stereotypes pirate rock I know I crave so deeply! It's low hanging fruit. Instead, there's two other songs I think work very well for his personality. The first one purely captures his more promiscuous nature and need for fun.

But the second one for Sinbad is based what he has said to Rachael. >:] The teasing and playful empty flirting to her ripped this song from deep in my head.

ADDING ONE MORE FOR CYRUS CAUSE I CAN'T RESIST! It's so predictable, but I love the "Qu'est-ce que c'est?" part and can literally picture him saying that to someone he's caught with the tip of a knife under their chin.

[cosmicfoole]

༄  𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐒 , both alike in dignity, in 𝙁𝘼𝙄𝙍 𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙊𝙉𝘼, where we LAY OUR SCENE. ✞

* this is what it 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖘 like , 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐘.

✞ . . A STUDY IN 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐄. from 𝑊𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑚 𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑒'𝑠 : 𝑅𝑂𝑀𝐸𝑂 & 𝐽𝑈𝐿𝐼𝐸𝑇. BASED off ʙᴀᴢ ʟᴜʜʀᴍᴀɴɴ's (1996) adaptation of ʀᴏᴍᴇᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴜʟɪᴇᴛ. a tale of STARCROSSED lovers, fate & tragedy. defying the stars, a product of being born under a pisces midnight moon– an odd result of being passionate, reckless and deeply sensitive between a feud of violence. LOVE'S FOOLE, a fool to love– hasty and impetuous, swift changing moods. loyal, courageous and witty, filled with love than montague's and capulet's residing hate. white corvette's in the summertime– a journaling hopeless romantic & burned out cigarettes wedged between bruised knuckles from past evening's scuffle. the bible tucked with a gun, a display of hurricane emotions and always in emotional turmoil from a tender heart.

dream, if you can, a courtyard. an ocean of VIOLETS in bloom. animals STRIKE { –– curious } poses, they FEEL the heat, the heat between ME and YOU. how can you just leave me standing ALONE in world that's so cold? maybe i'm just too demanding. maybe i'm just like my father, too bold. maybe you're just like my mother, she's never satisifed. . . WHY do we SCREAM at each other?

google doc. ✞ memes. (always accepting) ✞ open starters. ✞ (always available)

𝑂𝑁𝐸. mun is 21+ . my fcs are t.om b.lyth and l.eo d.icaprio. <3 i love and adore ocs and am very crossover friendly.

𝑇𝑊𝑂. this blog will contain heavy + dark topics, keep that in mind before following of course for your own comfort.

𝑇𝐻𝑅𝐸𝐸. open starters and memes. always, always feel free to answer opens or send me memes. i encourage it. if you are a new follower, feel free to take off in my meme tag and send one in if you are feeling it. it's the fastest way to interact with me. if you have an idea for a plot , come and toss that at me too. i'm easy going and would love to write with you.

𝐹𝑂𝑈𝑅. shipping– chemistry is a must. pls don't force it between our muses, let it go with the flow. i also love relationships beyond romantic ones, family relations and platonic ones are equally as fun and important so if you're down for that pls lemme know. i'd 100% be on board with that !

𝐹𝐼𝑉𝐸. if you'd like a specific verse OR fc, then definitely specify that please. i am happy to write in any of my verses or either fc at any time.

𝑆𝐼𝑋. formatting– icons and GIFS. i use all three. i use small font , icons or rp pack / hunt related gifs. feel free to use whatever works best for you though !

𝑆𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑁. CREDIT. this is where i'll add any credit that rightfully belongs to the creators of any psds/templates i may use.

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒. ✞

𝖎. ( modern verse | t.om b.lyth as the fc will be used in this verse. ) / to be written.

𝖎𝖎. ( 1990s verse | l.eo d.icaprio as the fc will be used in this verse. ) / to be written.

𝖎𝖎𝖎. ( x. ) / to be written.