#Lisa Au

[typegirls]

→ Lisa x Leitora g!p

→ Palavras: 840

AVISOS: smut, sexo sem camisinha, lisa!sub, leitora!dom, palmadas, puxões de cabelo, sexo violento, leitora com pênis.

📌 obs: sempre use camisinha, se proteja, se cuide, é a sua saúde que está em jogo.

📌 masterlist

© all rights reserved by @hotlink907

© tradução (pt/br) by @typegirls

Lisa sabia o que estava fazendo, adorava provocar você, fazendo você perder o controle, ela a agarrava e pegava o que queria.

Dessa vez, ela realmente fez isso. Você havia planejado encontrá-la para jantar, mas como não a viu o dia todo, não tinha a menor ideia do que ela estaria vestindo. Quando você a viu, sentiu um fogo se acender dentro de você.

Porque ela estava usando um vestido preto minúsculo, sem alças, que mal cobria suas coxas. Se ela se movesse da maneira certa, você poderia ver a curva suave de sua bunda logo acima do alcance da parte de trás do vestido. Assim que seus olhos a viram, você soube exatamente o que vocês duas iriam fazer quando saíssem do restaurante.

Assim que você voltou ao apartamento de Lisa e a porta se fechou atrás de você, você a agarrou e a puxou para perto de si, com um rosnado se formando em sua garganta. Ela olhou para você com olhos arregalados e falsamente inocentes.

— O que foi? – Perguntou ela, piscando os olhos para você.

— Você sabe exatamente o que é. – Você disse.

— Você terá que me contar. – Ela sussurrou com uma piscadela. — Eu não sei do que você está falando.

Você não deu a ela mais tempo para responder. Em vez disso, agarrou o rosto dela e a puxou para si, beijando-a com ardor. Ela reagiu com surpresa, mas não se afastou. Em vez disso, se derreteu em seus braços, pressionando-se contra o seu corpo, esfregando-se um pouco contra você.

Era tudo o que ela precisava fazer. Você a levantou, a pegando por baixo das pernas, ela balançou as pernas de um lado para o outro enquanto você carregava a estrutura esbelta dela para o quarto.

— Hum, alguém está excitada. – Lisa disse ao parar de beijá-la por um segundo.

— Animada com o que estou prestes a fazer com você. – Você disse.

Seu sangue estava fervendo, você precisava dela, precisava dela agora.

— Tire isso. – Você disse a ela.

— Por que você não o tira para mim? – Ela deu uma risadinha.

Isso era tudo o que ela precisava dizer. Algo estalou dentro de você e você pegou o vestido. Você poderia ter descoberto como tirá-lo dela adequadamente, mas sua paciência havia acabado.

Você segurou o tecido com as mãos e o arrancou dela, revelando o fato de que ela estava sem sutiã e usando uma calcinha que mal cobria sua pele.

— Fique de joelhos. – Você ordenou.

Lisa rolou e fez como você ordenou, arqueando as costas e certificando-se de que a bunda dela estivesse à mostra para você.

Você passou as mãos gentilmente sobre a pele dela e pôde ver arrepios surgindo enquanto acariciava a bunda dela. Lisa soltou um pequeno gemido de prazer quando suas mãos passaram perto de sua fenda mal coberta.

E então, de repente, sem nenhum aviso, você espalmou a palma da mão na bochecha da bunda dela. Ela soltou um grito agudo e você a viu balançar com as reverberações da palmada.

— É isso mesmo. – Você disse.

— Me faça sua. – Ela disse em um sussurro ofegante. — Me faça sua, agora.

Você tirou a calcinha dela e a jogou para o lado, depois deu mais duas palmadas fortes, observando com satisfação como ela arqueava as costas mais alto a cada vez. Ela sabia que estava provocando você e agora era sua vez de fazer o mesmo com ela.

Enquanto batia na bunda dela, você a alcançou e agarrou seus cabelos, dando-lhe um leve puxão, fazendo com que a cabeça dela se levantasse em sua direção.

— Você é minha. – Você disse em voz baixa, sua necessidade e desejo por ela quase transbordando. — Diga.

— Sou sua. – Ela geme. — Toda sua.

Você tirou sua roupa e se juntou à nudez dela. Demorou apenas mais um momento antes de agarrar o quadril dela e penetrar dentro dela, sentindo seu calor e sua incrível umidade.

— Eu preciso de você. – Ela ofegou quando você entrou nela. — Preciso de você com força. Agora.

Você não a fez esperar, começou a mover os quadris, estocando para dentro e para fora dela, cada vez mais rápido. Lisa gritou, um grito de prazer, e enterrou o rosto no travesseiro e agarrou os lençóis com força, os apertando entre os punhos.

— Assim mesmo. – Você disse com a voz baixa e cheia de luxúria. Você agarrou o cabelo dela e puxou novamente, tirando a cabeça dela do travesseiro. — Me deixa sentir você.

Ela não precisava ser informada novamente, ela não hesitou, nem mesmo diminuiu a velocidade. Em vez disso, acelerou, do jeito que ela sabia que você gostava, mexendo os quadris na medida certa para poder lhe dar o máximo de estímulo.

Você não sabia quanto tempo conseguiria durar, não com o corpo perfeito e o ritmo perfeito dela. Mas você tentaria dar a ela uma noite inesquecível, ou pelo menos, de uma maneira que ela se lembrasse na manhã seguinte, quando acordasse e se sentisse dolorida.

[niceyslicey]

Think next time i better draw them in pixel art or smh... But just for now. For note: Roger is wasp and Ajeet is camel.

Little facts: - Harvey is the youngest of all the companions. Also I think about... uh... in that AU he can be a human? I still think about that, and next time I just redraw him. I don't want to break the logic of the game and what the characters were there, so I'm sorry; - Rooster used to live with a large family, but after the Flash, no one was left. He keeps the last egg (or it's a pebble in the form of an egg lol) and becomes quite aggressive if you touch it. He call it Goldie; - After the death of the queen bee, Roger took her place. Under his protection, few dare to attack the hive; - It is not known who Geese Thompson is, since such geese do not exist in nature. Perhaps the feathers on his poncho are actually his real ones?; - Ajeet incredibly patient, and also the highest companion.

[mikithelibrarian]

When you start a relationship with them - Queen! BLACKPINK - AU - GN! Reader.

Fluff/Angst

AU Index

Previous Part

Jisoo

“My Queen…” You spoke in a formal way, loud enough for your voice to echo around the throne room. “A messenger from the Kingdom of Ostral has arrived.”

At your voice, Jisoo sat straight on her throne, her simple figure and posture drawing the respect and the attention every Queen should. As you looked at her and walked to be besides her, with your heart full of how proud you feel about her, the messenger walked to be just a few steps in front of Jisoo, holding an envelope in her hands.

“Greetings, most benevolent Queen of Kora and Duchess of Soul and Busen, Queen Kim Jisoo.” The messenger bowed down. “I come in the name of my respectable liege, Queen Roseanne Park of Ostral and Duchess of Canberr, in order to make a formal invitation for a summit of the Four Pearls of the Sea”

Jisoo stood in silence for a few moments. “Queen Roseanne Park? Daughter to the Emperor Mason Clarke?” The messenger nodded with a smile.

“Indeed, my loving liege is searching to reestablish what was once a powerful alliance, lost to the time because of minor disagreements.”

“Threatening for war is not a minor disagreement.” Jisoo immediately retorted. “Tell me, what does Queen Roseanne think that my kingdom would benefit from this reestablishment of our alliance?”

“My liege is aware of what our past Emperor did, and she sends her apologies in the way of the most beautiful flowers of her personal garden that will decorate the halls of your castle.” As the messenger talked, Jisoo looked towards you, to which you nodded, confirming what the messenger was claiming. “And about your question, the past alliance made all of our nations to flourish in unimaginable ways, connecting our cultures and giving our citizens the safest region they could ever imagine, my liege aims to bring that back, Queen Jisoo.”

When the messenger stopped talking, an almost unbearable silence made its presence in the throne room in expectancy of the Queen´s decision. “(Y/N), what do you think?”

You look surprised at Jisoo, whose gaze fell upon you, not in an intimidating way, but in a seeking gaze, one that craved, in a subtle way, for an answer. “If I may, my Queen.” You looked towards the messenger, remembering whatever you could from your childhood, specifically, about the event that caused the rupture of a once very powerful alliance. “While it is true Emperor Mason Clarke threatened to take his armies into the territory of the rest of the members, our past monarch, King Kim Ha-Joon, did block numerous amounts of merchandise to be imported from the alliance and failed to keep his exporting promises prior to King Mason´s threat; that without mentioning the actions of Queen Chitthip Bruschweiler and King Kim Dae-Jung took that further weakened the relationship” You returned your eyes towards Jisoo, who was carefully listening to your speech. “In my opinion, your Highness, one or the other isn’t to blame, everyone played a part in the dissolution of the alliance; and what the messenger claims is true, the alliance gave nothing but prosperity while it held strong; I don´t see why it would change now if the four members agree to reestablish it.”

Jisoo nodded and returned her gaze to the messenger. “Then, it´s decided, I will gladly accept the invitation.” Jisoo extended her hand and the messenger hurried to give the envelope she held towards the Queen. “I hope Queen Roseanne won´t mind about bringing my future spouse with me.”

At her last phrase, you were left in the shock, as in a bucket full of ice and water ws just poured onto your head.

“Of course, she wouldn’t mind Queen Jisoo, however, I would have to write the name of your partner, just so my liege and the guards can be prepared to receive the future royal couple.” Jisoo smiled at her while you looked at the ground with a heavy heart.

“Their name is (Y/N) (Y/LN).” As Jisoo´s words left her mouth, you looked at her and crossed eyes, a slight smile accompanied by a small blush adorned her expression, while you just smiled after a few seconds. At the sign of your acceptance, Jisoo looked back at the messenger. “I will write their name in a formal letter I ask of you to deliver to your Queen, if you´d be so kind.”

“Of course, Queen Jisoo.”

“Then, you may leave.”

The messenger gave a bow before abandoning the room, leaving you and Jisoo alone. Oddly enough, none of you talked after that, as if no words were needed. Jisoo just looked at you and you looked back at those sparkling eyes you grew to love over the years before she delicately grabbed your hands with hers, as if she was afraid you were going to let go, but all the contrary, you intertwined your fingers with her, waiting for the next royal visit of today.

Jennie

War has ended, not in completely peaceful way, as you and Jennie would have wanted it, but finally, Zeland was united once again under the Kim Dinasty.

After the battle in which you were injured, that would be written in the history books as the Siege of Hestings, the remaining Kingdom of Ockland, seeing the military power the Queen Jennie held, invited her on a negotiation in search of peace. However, Jennie wouldn´t back down on her efforts to finally unite the long-forgotten empire that once ruled the land, but instead of threatening for war, she offered to take them as vassals; power in Ockland would be left almost untouched, and the government could stay as it was, if they swear fealty to her. To Ockland, it sounded more of a threat than an offer; bend the knee or be conquered, so they accepted it.

Ever since then, things changed for the better. The capital of the Empire was positioned back at the City of Lington, as it was before the Day of Separation, 150 years ago. As all the lands were under her hand, Jennie became a mighty Empress and peace was once again restored; all the while you were recovering from your injuries.

Now, feeling so much better, you were taking a much-needed free time from the army. You needed to organize your thoughts and your feelings, which ever since the day Jennie visited you in your room and cried beside you. From that moment onwards, somehow, the world seemed to be brighter, but in turn, the things that had sense suddenly felt illogical, either that, or you never really thought about it before.

You felt like a human, not a sword or a shield, but a person, and it felt weird. Freedom was a thing you never sought, but now you had it. If you wanted, you could resign the army right here and now and dedicate your life to planting potatoes or living rough in the forests, but somehow, that didn’t feel like an option.

“I finally found you.” Jennie said as she stood behind you. You turned around, surprised that you didn’t hear her exiting from the hatch that connected the top of the tower to its interior. “Admiring the view?”

“Yes, my Empress.” You answered before returning your view further from the wall of Lington.

“I’ve told you to not call me that while we are alone” She walked and stood beside you as her eyes scanned the sea that separated both of the islands that conform the Empire. “And I know you are not just admiring the view, something is bothering you” Her eyes softly gazed upon the side of your face. “Am I wrong?”

“You are not.” Your eyes fixed on the sunset shining on the calm waters as Jennie put a hand to your back and softly caressed it over your clothes.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You thought for some seconds and nodded.

“Ever since I’ve been alive, all I knew was war, blood, metal… I was taught to serve you, to fulfill your every desire, even if it meant that a sea of blood would flow down the streets of whatever city your heart desired to conquer, and now, although we´ve won, I still feel as if something isn’t complete” You sighed. “I guess I… I don’t know what to do and it´s scary.”

Jennie listened carefully to each word you told her and felt relieved at the fact that you were willing to share your torment with her. “My father used to say that a mind in darkness meant that we were afraid to shine a light in it.”

“I’ve told you I only know weapons, not sweet words.” You said in a joking manner which made Jennie to giggle before, without thinking, she held your hand and rose it up to her chest, which in turn caught your undivided attention.

“That means that, whenever you feel lost, it´s because you are afraid to look at what’s truly going on, around you and inside you.” Her words, somehow, gave you a sense of relief as your eyes met hers in a rewarding gaze. “And I know you are very short-minded when it comes to feelings and such, but trust me that I will do everything in my power to ―

And a kiss brought silence between both of you. With care, you held her cheek as you met your lips with hers; you felt that was your answer, which you needed to do before thinking about your next move, unfortunately though, you didn’t think much about how to do it and when that thought crossed your mind, you attempted to broke the kiss, but your Empress didn’t allow you to.

She held onto your nape and pulled you closer to her as she guided your hand to her waist.

Unknowingly to you, historians wouldn’t mark the Siege of Hestings nor the Pact of Ockland as the beginning of a new era, but rather, they would do so with what came to be known as the Kiss of Lington; the renaissance of a prosperous Empire of Zeland.

Rosé

TW: Sex shaming.

A rose has thorns, and you had to re-learn that the bad way. You had grown closer with your Queen, maybe more than she would have liked at this time. So, in one of your many lunch gatherings at the private garden, you confessed to her that you had a relationship in the past.

You don’t even remember how that topic surfaced, but you told her the entire story. This person you dated; you met them when you were just a teenager. Their parents were merchants that would weekly meet with yours in search of product to buy, that´s how your family survived after all. Unknowingly to you, Roseanne wasn´t liking the story you were telling with somehow of a yearning smile, but you didn´t notice that and continued talking about that past love of yours. You even told her about how you used to talk about marriage, much to her disgust, but even so, she resisted her jealous fit, up until a sentence changed it all.

“I delivered myself completely to them, mind and body, but then ―

And she didn’t let you finish. She stood from her chair and started berating you and yelling at you at how you weren’t pure and how you should be ashamed of having sex before marrying, amongst other hurtful things. Practically, she released all of her upbringing her parents gave her right onto you before she walked away from you.

Now, here you were, in the middle of the private garden, days later. You still cared for the flowers with the best of your abilities while also keeping your mind away from her words. Her words hurt you, to unimaginable ways, but then again, you were a servant and unfortunately, she wasn’t the first nor will she be the last to berate you. However, you just wish that whatever punishment she had for you would come quick, instead of making you wait for days.

Maybe she would just fire you, or maybe she would just burn the gardens before firing you, or maybe a physical form of punishment will arrive…

You sighed and cleaned your dirty hands on your clothes; maybe, you should have never thought of Roseanne as a friend, let alone as a possible partner, she is a Queen and you are a servant.

Having finished for today, you turned around, ready to exit the gardens, but as soon as did so, Roseanne was there, right at the entrance of the garden, her eyes digging holes in yours.

You bowed your head and stood frozen in your place, ready for whatever punishment she had for you; your heart started beating hundreds of beats per minute and you felt like vomiting right on the spot, but you couldn’t let yourself to do that, unless you wanted the punishment to be harsher.

Roseanne walked towards you as you held your head low, the click of her heels putting you more into your nerves. Then again, you wished that it would just be over. You closed your eyes in order to cope with the fear channeling into your body, you were prepared for anything she had in mind… Or almost anything.

Your eyes shot open as you felt her hands softly grasping onto yours and looked at the figure of Roseanne, the powerful Queen of Ostral, with both knees on the floor, with no care in the world for the fact that her dress was being tainted with dirt.

Her eyes started to tear, and her lips started to quiver, but still, she did her best to look right into your eyes. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N)…” Even if she sobbed, even if her nose started to run, her eyes never abandoned you. “…Please, I beg of you, forgive for the words I said and for the hurt I caused, I don’t know what got into me… I…” You could see her struggle to find the correct words to say, but you were still so shocked at what was happening that you couldn’t act upon it. “…I… Just the thought of you being with another person… in that way and many other ways… I couldn’t stand it and acted so unfair towards you… I just wished that I would have been in their place… the first one to kiss you… the first one to love you as you deserved… and I couldn’t stand otherwise… I…”

“They were just using me.” You interrupted her, wanting to finish the story you couldn’t because of her outrage. “After we bedded, they never returned… Their parents talked to mine and told them what happened between us, apologizing because they knew their child was a piece of work but that they thought they found in me something that could make them better; turns out, I was another one of their many experiences.” As you remembered that hurtful situation, you couldn’t help but to tighten your grip on her hands. “So, no, don’t ever wish to be in their place, because they hurt me much more than any word could.” You tug her hands upwards and helped Roseanne to be on her feet. “But I will not grant you my forgiveness.” Roseanne’s heart break at your words but she found comfort again when your hand caressed her cheek. “I’m afraid you will have to win that over time.”

She quickly nodded and hugged you immediately afterwards. She would show you that she can be better and that she can love you as much as you deserve it, but first, something had to be formalized. “May I court you in the meanwhile?” She asked in a whisper so soft that the wind could have easily take it away, but you heard her crystal clear.

“You may, my Queen.”

Lisa

“One, two, three; one, two, three; one, two, three.” Lalisa kept those words in repetition as she danced with you in her personal practice hall.

With your hands intertwined, one of hers on your shoulder and one of yours in her thin waist, you danced around to the absence of any music and the soft light of the moon shone through the windows. Lalisa’s long pajamas flowed gracefully with your movements and the sound of your boots echoed through the floor of the hall. She had tried to convince you to wear any other thing other than your uniform, but you kept rejecting her advice.

By now, some weeks later after you first danced with her, she kept pestering you about your uniform, but she was still happy that you constantly accepted her invitations to dance despite your grumpy attitude.

Meanwhile, you’ve grown accustomed to see the Queen in an aspect only her mirror should be allowed to. Of course, you were somehow fearful of having grown to close towards her; you would even say that she’s the closest person you had ever since you were a kid, and that’s saying something. Your mind, one of a soldier, told you that you were playing a dangerous game. Liking the Queen, in the way you did, was an impediment to your labor as the Commander of the Royal Guard, but you couldn’t help it.

Your mentors and your teachers would be berating you, punching you, kicking you, hurting you, if they ever see you like this. They did their best to taught you to separate your mind from your heart, to think rationally rather than being a suicidal warrior jumping headfirst into battle; to the Queen, you were more useful alive rather than dead.

Still, here you were, she broke down your whole training with just her smile. Who would have said that the best warrior in the realm would be defeated by the mere presence of the monarch?

“You’ve gotten better.” Lalisa smiled at you as both of you kept dancing, to what you stood silent. “You and your grumpy attitude, you need to let your hair down!”

“I can’t, my ―

“Lisa.”

“I can’t, Lisa” You sighed after you had to correct yourself yet again. “It is my job to protect you at all times.”

“But you are protecting me” Lalisa stopped dancing and stood away from you. “With you in here, I dare any person to step in here and try to touch me, because I know they’ll fall dead onto the floor in less than five seconds.” You stood silent once again and looked towards the sword hanging from your waist, yet another thing Lisa wanted you to let go of while dancing. “You are my best soldier, and my most trusted person in the palace, even if the world was ending, I know, somehow, you’ll find a way to make me escape unscathed.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that when my mind isn’t focused.” Lalisa leaned her head on her side and tried to meet your gaze, but you were still looking at your sword.

“Why aren’t you focused?” When Lalisa became impatient, she grabbed your chin and made you look at her in the eyes. For the first time ever, she saw a glimpse of doubt in yours. “Answer me.”

You inhaled deeply. “Because you are in front of me.”

Lalisa became silent at your words, up until her mind processed what you meant by that, making her cheeks go into a little tint of red. With a fearful heart, she slowly moved her hand to your cheek and caressed your cheekbone. You wanted to explain more of your feelings, you really did, but the words simply wouldn’t leave your mouth, but the way you leaned into her touch gave Lalisa all the answers she needed for now.

“I know how conflicted you must feel right now.” She talked in a soft and slow voice. “You have a duty to accomplish, yet you yearn for something else that you know could put in jeopardy that which you call your calling. I know that, because I feel it too.” Even if her words gave you a certain comfort and happiness, you couldn’t shake the fearful feeling that still reign in your heart. “So, I won’t pressure you into something more. Are you alright with taking things slow?” You nodded and saw in her lips the most beautiful smile being drawn over them, before she surrounded your neck with her arms and gave you the most comforting hug you’ve had since a long time.

[keyks-art-zone]

Somethings wrong with my copy of Undertale...and Lisa...

(making this into an AU istg)

[dreampicss]

✧ SET 2 | LISA during the UEFA Champions League 2023/24 at Parc des Princes on November 28, 2023 in Paris, France

{+30 pics UHD 4k & untagged}

4$-2$ per pic | discount for big requests

☆ pm if interested • paypaI only

check pinned for selling proofs and infos

[dailyunsolvedmysteries]

The Unsolved: Lisa Au

isa Au was born on July 25, 1962 to parents Chester Dennis Au and Patrice Mahiaikalani Akim Au-Kaunamano. Lisa had a rich cultural heritage from each of her parents – Chinese on her father’s side and Hawai’ian on her mother’s. In 1982 Lisa was 19 years old. She stood at about 5’5” tall and weighed around 120 lbs. She had long, wavy black hair, and worked as a hairdresser. According to everyone – her roommate, family, friends – she was a hardworking, responsible, conscientious, and careful person. She was excited for her future, and had just gotten her driver’s license on January 18, 1982. And then, she vanished.

January 20, 1982 was a rainy night on the island of O’ahu. Lisa had just finished her shift at the Susan Beers Salon, which was located in Kailua. She was procrastinating leaving the building, hoping to wait out the downpour. Eventually, though, she decided to head out, as her boyfriend Doug Holmes was waiting for her at her sister’s appointment in Makiki. She’d told her co-workers of her plans for the night. They didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary when speaking with Lisa that night – she was just as steadfast and friendly as always. They had no way of knowing that they would never see Lisa alive again. On her way home, Lisa stopped to grab something to eat. She grabbed Poke on the way. She never arrived at her sister’s apartment, nor did she arrive home to her parents’ house that night. Worried, Lisa’s parents called Doug the next morning to ask what had happened. He claimed not to know, but agreed to search for Lisa. And then he found Lisa’s car.

This is where things get strange. Doug called the police to report that Lisa had not returned home the previous night and that he had found her car in a strange state. When the office arrived at the scene, he examined the car – it was parked on the side of the highway with windows rolled down, despite the previous night’s rain. There was a substantial amount of standing water in the car. The seats were sopping wet. Lisa’s purse was on the passenger seat, but was not wet. It would seem that the purse had been returned to the scene once the rain cleared up. The officer also mentioned that there were apparent scratches on Doug’s face. Despite its weirdness, the car did not provide any leads as to where Lisa went or what happened to her, so the community sprang into action. The island was papered in thousands of missing posters, begging anyone with information to notify police. Lisa’s parents gave several teary interviews. Search efforts consumed the island for ten whole days, and came to a screeching and devastating halt on January 31, 1982.  A man jogging with his dog on Mount Tantalus made a horrifying discovery. Lisa had been found. Her body was nude and badly decomposed, which prevented the coroner from determining an accurate time or cause of death. Despite this, Investigators believed that they have worked out a loose chain of events in this murder. A witness came forward shortly after the search to report that they had seen a car with lights in its grill following Lisa’s car on the night of her disappearance. Investigators believe that Lisa was abducted from her car, murdered, and then the killer attempted to hide her on Mount Tantalus. 

[dailyunsolvedmysteries-movedd]

The Unsolved: Lisa Au

isa Au was born on July 25, 1962 to parents Chester Dennis Au and Patrice Mahiaikalani Akim Au-Kaunamano. Lisa had a rich cultural heritage from each of her parents – Chinese on her father’s side and Hawai’ian on her mother’s. In 1982 Lisa was 19 years old. She stood at about 5’5” tall and weighed around 120 lbs. She had long, wavy black hair, and worked as a hairdresser. According to everyone – her roommate, family, friends – she was a hardworking, responsible, conscientious, and careful person. She was excited for her future, and had just gotten her driver’s license on January 18, 1982. And then, she vanished.

January 20, 1982 was a rainy night on the island of O’ahu. Lisa had just finished her shift at the Susan Beers Salon, which was located in Kailua. She was procrastinating leaving the building, hoping to wait out the downpour. Eventually, though, she decided to head out, as her boyfriend Doug Holmes was waiting for her at her sister’s appointment in Makiki. She’d told her co-workers of her plans for the night. They didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary when speaking with Lisa that night – she was just as steadfast and friendly as always. They had no way of knowing that they would never see Lisa alive again. On her way home, Lisa stopped to grab something to eat. She grabbed Poke on the way. She never arrived at her sister’s apartment, nor did she arrive home to her parents’ house that night. Worried, Lisa’s parents called Doug the next morning to ask what had happened. He claimed not to know, but agreed to search for Lisa. And then he found Lisa’s car.

This is where things get strange. Doug called the police to report that Lisa had not returned home the previous night and that he had found her car in a strange state. When the office arrived at the scene, he examined the car – it was parked on the side of the highway with windows rolled down, despite the previous night’s rain. There was a substantial amount of standing water in the car. The seats were sopping wet. Lisa’s purse was on the passenger seat, but was not wet. It would seem that the purse had been returned to the scene once the rain cleared up. The officer also mentioned that there were apparent scratches on Doug’s face. Despite its weirdness, the car did not provide any leads as to where Lisa went or what happened to her, so the community sprang into action. The island was papered in thousands of missing posters, begging anyone with information to notify police. Lisa’s parents gave several teary interviews. Search efforts consumed the island for ten whole days, and came to a screeching and devastating halt on January 31, 1982.  A man jogging with his dog on Mount Tantalus made a horrifying discovery. Lisa had been found. Her body was nude and badly decomposed, which prevented the coroner from determining an accurate time or cause of death. Despite this, Investigators believed that they have worked out a loose chain of events in this murder. A witness came forward shortly after the search to report that they had seen a car with lights in its grill following Lisa’s car on the night of her disappearance. Investigators believe that Lisa was abducted from her car, murdered, and then the killer attempted to hide her on Mount Tantalus. 

[inejqhafa]

three tickets to challengers

[ezgurple]

who wuz askin for mona lisa 🦎

i think i only know one pose..

[queenimmadolla]

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞

(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)

next ┊ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Summary: After a series of unfortunate events in your life, and lonelier than ever, you often turn to a dead guy and his tombstone for comfort. Never in your wildest, fucked up dreams did you imagine he’d turn to you for the same thing, but you find yourself hiding a living corpse, bringing him further to life, reaping some justice, and cutting off a lot of body parts all while trying to fit in and falling in love.

a/n: Part One is here! Just want to say thank you to my friends for hearing me rant and rave about Lisa Frankenstein for weeks now, though I’ve been unbearable with this concept in my head. This will be the longest chapter, just to establish some stuff, but we’ll get to the slaying! Hope you love Undead!Zombie!Eddie as much as I do. Happy reading! (p.s.,there will be some romantic smut in a later part)

Chapter warnings: a bit steve harrington x reader, some eddie munson x other female, death of a family member, brief description of SA (bordered with RED DIVIDERS if you’d like to skip), mistreatment of Reader, suicidal ideation (reader just has dark humor), implied murder, very campy, very cunty.

THEN, 1986.

  “Where you head’n too so in a hurry, boy?” Wayne Munson asked, sat on the couch with a mug of steaming hot coffee in one hand and the television remote in the other as he watched his nephew bounce around the trailer, grabbing all of the the items he let haphazardly around. 

  Wayne always told him to pick up his things, but like the rambunctious boy he was, there was no breaking out of his messy habits.

  “I got people to see, pops. Things to do. Trouble to ‘cause, cops to anger, you know the drill.” Eddie didn’t even need to turn around to know his uncle was scowling but he was proven correct when he turned to throw his father figure a shit eating grin over his shoulder, “Kidding, old man. Mom had me baptized when I was a baby, remember? I can do no wrong, like Achilles.” 

  “Wha’?”

  “Ugh, dad. If I have to explain the joke, it ruins it. I’ll be back by dinner, alright?”

  Wayne fixed him with a pointed look, “You best be on your best behavior, you hear me?”

  “Always.” Eddie gave a mock salute before dipping out the front door, still grinning as he tossed the keys of the van and caught them midair. 

  While he wasn’t necessarily going to cause trouble, he certainly would be providing the fun grass, powder and pills that were often behind it. Eddie knew Wayne was aware of what he did, had implied so when talking about how he knew Eddie was a good kid, just living in the wrong circumstances sometimes. Always said he wanted nothing but the best for his boy and for Eddie to realize he was meant for more than what this particular town forced on him. 

  Made Eddie’s chest tight, but seeing things like the broken patio board—Eddie had accidentally stomped through it after seeing a spider—reinforced Eddie’s belief that he’d much rather help out any way he could than let his uncle bear the financial weight of providing for him. 

  The van roared to life, after sputtering for a good seven seconds, and Eddie revved the engine a little. As he let her warm up, something in the side mirror caught his attention. 

  Someone. 

  Sheila. His neighbor in the trailer across the street. She was hauling a box to a car, looked rather heavy and Eddie would have dropped everything to scramble over and help her, had it not been for Mr.Brawn at her side. 

  Eddie watched as the guy, who stole the girl he was in love with right out of his arms, grabbed the box. The two lovers exchanged words which ended with them laughing at something as she followed him to the car.

  He slid the box into the packed car as she climbed into the passenger seat, and before Eddie knew it, he was watching her drive away, right out of his life forever.

  Eddie hadn’t even realized he was clutching his steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were straining against the skin, hot tears pooling at his waterline but he refused to let them fall. He’d shed more than enough tears over her, over what could have been.

  They started off so promising; throwing flirty waves from their bedroom windows, occasionally at school, before she approached him for weed. After that, came the whirlwind romance and Eddie hadn’t considered himself a romantic before—hadn’t had a whole lot of opportunities to make that discovery but he was so fucking romantic. A big sap. And he wasn’t ashamed of it. 

  Until she’d graduated, and he hadn’t. Again. Turns out, not trying at academics all year and then aiming to ace finals wasn’t enough. 

  Suddenly, all the bullshit naive plans they had to run away somewhere far from Hawkins weren’t possible. At least, Sheila couldn’t with Eddie. 

  He lost her to a guy in another band, had made the mistake of taking a piss after he and Corroded Coffin performed to their tiny ass crowd, and had come back to see her talking to the keyboardist of the band that had gone on before them. She looked entranced, leaning forward to hang on to whatever the fuck he was saying. When Eddie had gone over to ask her if she was ready to head out, fully prepared to tuck her under his arm and way from the keyboardist, she’d insisted and told him to his face, in front of his apparent competition, that she was gonna stick around a little longer and he should head out without her.

  He’d spent the entire night pacing in front of his window, glancing out of it every five minutes and every time he heard a pair of wheels turn onto the dirt road. Eddie got his confirmation when his car happened to be one of them. He’d watched, heart splintering, as the keyboardist got out of the car and walked around to open her door for her before they disappeared into her trailer. Eddie knew her dad worked nights. Knew what she and that musician were doing and he’d thrown up the entire contents of his stomach at the imagery before passing out.

  Eddie woke up to Sheila hovering above him and framed by the glow of the bathroom light like some angel. She’d dumped him right there and left the spare key he’d trusted her with on the table.

  And now, she was living her dream with someone else while Eddie got to stick around this shitty town with these people who could barely stand him for no reason (and yeah, okay, maybe he’d poke their buttons). In truth, while he was a little heartbroken over her, it was the fact that she still got her happy ending that hurt the most.

  The girls around Hawkins might have been interested in maybe hooking up with him, but they weren’t interested in being Eddie’s girl. Weren’t interested in falling stupid in love with him, making plans to start a life together. Didn’t want him in their plans.

  Eddie Munson was lonely. And it sucked.

  With a heavy sigh, he cranked on the radio, fingers twisting the volume dial up to the most obnoxious level before shifting the gear to drive.

  “It’ll get better, Munson. Love ain’t no stranger.” He mumbled, sucking on his teeth and pulling out on the road.

  If he had known then where it would lead him, where the night would take him, he would have at least hugged his uncle. It would be the last time he saw him, and it would be the last time Wayne Munson saw his nephew alive.

  Three days later, he’d be identifying and weeping over his boy’s body in the morgue after reporting Eddie missing when he didn’t come home.

  NOW, 1989

  “Where are you going? It’s almost time for breakfast.” Chrissy called out, head poking out from her bedroom as she watched you race down the hall.

  “Not hungry! I’ll be back soon!” You called over your shoulder, the large sheet of craft paper wrinkling in your hand as you took the stairs two at a time before bounding down the short entryway.

  You’d almost crossed the foyer and then slammed yourself back against the wall as you saw Laura, Chrissy’s mom, fiddling with something at the table. She had the radio on, some garbage self help tape spewing nonsense to her, and that condescending smile on her face.

  Yeah, you’d be avoiding her, lest you wish to be verbally and eloquently belittled. How Chrissy came out of her toxic womb to be such a good person, you’d never understand. 

  When Laura crossed into the kitchen, you sprinted for the door, fumbling a little with the knob in your urgency, but once you got it open, you were out, running across the walkway and the fencing around the house until you were in the woods behind it.

  Only then did you feel safe, the trees a welcome reprieve from your living situation, the magnifying glass this new town had you under, and from the world in general.

  You’d come from a small town before Hawkins, so you were used to small town living. But these people were so judgemental. You hadn’t even grabbed a box from the moving van before your neighbors were casting you snide looks, noses turning up and backs to you as they watered their yard and lounged about.

  Four months later, nothing had changed. If anything, they were more open with their disdain for you, commenting on your demeanor (and you were a cool fucking person), outfits, hair, body. It was annoying. They were annoying. EVERYTHING was annoying. 

  You didn’t even want to be there but you had no real choice. You’d graduated high school a couple of years ago and despite the popular teenage notion that you’d simply pack up your things, go to college and be successful at whatever career you wanted, life did not happen like the movies. The freedom you’d been promised by your own delusions never came. That bitch came with a hefty price tag and you weren’t exactly jumping into a safe of gold coins like Scrooge McDuck with your minimum wage job. 

  You’d gotten into several schools of your choice, but scholarships wouldn’t be nearly enough to cover it, and you’d literally have to sell your entire body to science if you wanted to be able to afford the loans you were being offered, since their interest rates were higher than the standard human beings’ lifespan. 

  So, living with the ‘rents was checked off on your list of things you didn’t want to continue doing past your high school graduation. And hey—you were only 19 years-old! You were still young! Just save up a few years, and maybe one day you’d be able to think about taking a loan. You had time. What could possibly go wrong to throw your plans off?

  Your mother was murdered.

  Yeah, that was a bummer. Could’ve been worse, you supposed. You could have died with her, when your home had been broken into, and sometimes you wish you had. Alas, you were still breathing, albeit extremely traumatized. But only good ol’ mom was six feet in the ground, in an entirely different town, because your father had also moved on a mere few months after her death, with the worst woman to leave flaming footprints on the earth’s crust, and they’d eloped after like six dates before moving you to a town where you knew no one.

  Thinking about it actually made you sick and feel a little delusional. 

  The only real good thing about your entire soap opera of a year was the community college you’d been able to enroll in. You had no real idea what you wanted to do in life, had no real drive for career paths, but you were doing something, and that something kept the she-devil that was your stepmother off your back. Most of the time. Some of the time. She couldn’t say you were a deadbeat yet.

  Chrissy, your sweet to a definitive and insensitive fault step-sister had pushed you into going with her for registration. Convinced you it was the perfect way to make some friends. It was hard to say no to Chrissy, she had a way with people and could make the meekest soul feel like they were capable of anything and everything. She could always see the best in people, and she was outgoing. Your time in Hawkins had been brief, but you’d easily gathered Chrissy was popular, a former cheerleader (and she’d successfully tried out for the community college team) and beloved by all. While part of you felt a little jealous at her confidence, you admired her more. She was never intentionally mean to you, either. She made the occasional comment, but it seemed like Chrissy had more so a filter problem, rather than spitting anything out with sugar coated hostility like her mother. Chrissy was...nice. After everything you've been through, you could use a little nice in your life.

  And sometimes nice was also the woods behind your house, as it led to the Hawkins’ Cemetery. 

  Morbid, sure, but you couldn’t help yourself. After a particularly nasty encounter with Laura the first week of your Hawkins sentence, and feeling lonelier than you’d ever felt before, you’d gone for a walk, tears decorating your face with wet trails as you tried to physically hold yourself together, arms wrapped around yourself. 

  You’d arrived at the cemetery, and because you couldn’t pay your mother a visit, you decided the only decent thing to do was visit other lonely souls.

  You’d stopped to pay your respects to just about every tombstone and plaque, but one in particular caught your attention.

  Tucked away in a corner and separate from the other graves, under a weeping willow, was the most damaged tombstone of them all. Parts of it were broken off, a lot of the information pertaining to the individual underneath it was seemingly grated off. You had no idea who it was, the only remaining legible letters were MUN and you figured it was he simply because you’d taken some paper to the tombstone for etching and ran a black crayon over it. You’d been able to make out the word ‘he’ on the paper and deduced it had once read may he rest in peace. 

  The state of his tombstone surprised you, given how recent the date of death was. While his birth date had also been worn away, the year of death—1986–had been left. It was 1989. No way his grave should’ve looked like that.

  Apparently, even the groundskeeper avoided his part of the cemetery. The grass around his grave was overgrown, and pitiful. So, you’d gone home, grabbed the lawn mower, and pushed it all the way over. You’d ended up disgusting, covered in grass, dirt and sweating like a cheater on a Sunday morning, but his grave was looking better. You’d taken to caring for his grave after that. A bunch of your trinkets and things you'd seen that you immediately thought he’d like surrounded him now and you’d even planted some bluebells. 

  He also made surprisingly good conversation, even though he never talked to you. His presence, while mostly imaginary to you, was comforting. 

  So, during any free time you had, you were sat against his tombstone, chatting about your day, life, whatever you wanted. Felt like he was always listening, no matter the subject and it was really lovely to be heard.

  When you arrived at the cemetery, it was practically vacant, with just the red headed girl you normally saw. You didn’t see her all the time, she was just one of the faces you saw the most, and that was only a handful of occasions. For the most part, Hawkins didn’t seem keen on remembering the dead. 

  “Hope you haven’t been lonely without me,” You greeted as you approached his tombstone, ducking under a few low hanging willow branches that still brushed over you anyways. You’d have to ‘borrow’ Laura’s shears soon, the willow tree was hauntingly beautiful around his grave, but you wanted its branches and leaves to frame his grave, not conceal it, “I missed you.”

  It was a little odd, but you did. 

  When you weren’t at his grave, you were thinking about him, trying to put a face to MUN, wondering what his life had been like. Did he have any loved ones? What had his interests been? How had he died? Had he felt as lonely as you did?

  “I know, I know.” You settled onto the grass in front of his tombstone, securing the craft paper to his tombstone with some masking tape, “I was just here last night.” You imagined he would say.

  “I just can’t stay away from you. You have a very intriguing aura: I can’t see it because you’re dead, and that makes me want to know you more.” You pulled a black crayon from your pocket and went about scribbling on the paper, over where you knew MUN would be etched in stone, “I’ve said it a million times, and you’ve probably turned over in your coffin repeatedly because of it, but you’re the only one who understands me. And you’re the only one here that I care about—probably in the whole world actually, except maybe Chrissy but I know her friends think I’m weird, and I don’t want to drag her down with me.”

  Once the letters appeared on the paper, you sprawled out STER and you dropped the crayon to produce a pretty hot pink marker from your pocket instead, signing your name with a little heart to go with it just above the last name you’d crafted for him.

  The odds of this dude being a Munster were slim to none, but you thought it was fitting for someone who lived in a cemetery.

  You sat back on your haunches to admire it, it was a cute piece. Would look nice on your wall and whenever you missed him and found yourself longing to be near his grave, all you’d have to do is turn on your side and you'd be able to see part of him. 

  You ripped the paper off his tombstone, and weighed it down on the grass with a rock. With that out of the way, you gave him your full attention, shuffling until your head and shoulder were leaning against the stone, “Would you wanna be dragged down with me? Be seen with me? I’m somewhat of a pariah around here. Did you have better luck when you were still kicking?”

  You figured with how fucked up his tombstone had been, probably not. You imagined he’d confirm it, too. Just out right say, ‘Nah, these assholes hated me.’

  “Yeah, looks like we’re two peas in a pod.” Then you glanced down, fingers, twirling the blades of grass over his grave, “Or, you know. Casket.”

  You let silence fall over you, broken only by the chirping of birds in surrounding trees.

  “Goddamit, why do you have to be dead?” Your eyelids fluttered close, and instead of the cold stone, you imagined your head pressed against a warm chest, rising and falling with breaths, and a heartbeat thumping strong below your ear, pushing blood throughout his body. Imagined he was alive, arms slipping around you, firm and strong to hold you together so you didn't have to anymore.

  But he wasn’t, and you were reminded when the groundskeeper shouted, “HEY!”

  You shot up, glancing around until you saw him by the entrance with a leaf blower, “YOU AWAKE?”

  What kind of a dumbass question was that? Sure, it had looked like you were asleep but you were clearly alert now.

  “YEAH!” You shrieked back to be heard, and he went back to not caring. 

  “He can see me leaning against your tombstone, but he can’t see overgrown grass, weeds, rocks, or your grave in general when I’m not here. Men, always so selective, amirite?”

  You glanced at the stone, half expecting it to respond. “Eh, what do you know, you’re just a man, too.” You reached your arm back, knuckles trailing over MUN.

  “Despite you mouthing off to me most of the time, I brought you something.” You reached into your other pocket and pulled out a necklace, lined with black pearls and a cross pendant. It had been your mother’s. While she had a pension for religion, it wasn’t something you thought about. Dying, sure, but whatever afterlife? Not so much. Felt wrong, sometimes, to carry it around with you—felt like you were disrespecting her a little bit to not believe what she did, even though she had no qualms with it when she was alive. So, you figured why not trust it with the other important person in your life?

  “Pretty, huh? It was my mom’s. She’s dead, like you. You wouldn’t happen to have seen her around, would you?” You joked, fingers stroking over the pearls. There was no risk in leaving them with your dead friend, people avoided him and you had a feeling even grave robbers wouldn’t dare step near the willow, so they’d probably be with him for the rest of eternity, “I want you to have them, take care of them for me.”

  You placed the necklace over the peak of his tombstone, smiling when they didn’t fall from their place, “Mm, you look good in them. Better than I do, I’m not big on pearls. More of a silver jewelry kind of girl. I could do gold and diamonds, though, only for a wedding ring.”

  You held your arm out, admiring your ring hand void of any actual rings, “Nothing too gaudy, of course. That’s what my earrings are for.” 

  Your eyes trailed from your outstretched fingers, to your wrist, and the watch decorating it. The time made you heave a heavy sigh, “I gotta go. Chrissy’s dragging me to a party tonight, so I’ve got to mentally prepare for that. You’ll think of me while I’m away, won’t you?”

  Trailing a finger down the stone, you leaned forward to press your lips to it in a sweet kiss. 

  “I’ll be back soon, and this time I won’t forget my book of sonnets. I know how much you love the cynical poems I force on you.”

  And though you announced your departure, you found it hard to leave him, like you always did. It took all you had to gather your crayon, marker, and your new poster (and you kept dropping all three to have an excuse to linger) and leave the cemetery behind, glancing back impulsively every couple of steps until it was no longer in view, and the moment it wasn’t you wanted to drop everything and run back to him.

  You had to remind yourself he was a stranger, who didn’t care for you, rotting in the ground. And it sucked. 

  “I don’t wanna go.” You announced, staring into the bathroom mirror you shared with Chrissy. You’d just finished your makeup, eyes heavily lined, and lashes coated an electric blue that made your eyes pop. You were always a little heavy handed with your makeup, you figured the whole point of it was to use it as you wanted. Your hair had been manipulated to hell and back, but regardless of what you did, you were unsatisfied with the girl staring back at you, “I’ll just stay home.”

  “Not on my watch!” Chrissy declared, reaching in front of you for her pink lipstick. The bathroom counter was littered with your combined beauty products, “This is the first major rager of the year, the perfect social gathering. You need to meet people, sissy.” 

  You scowled at the idea, “I have met people.”

  Chrissy tubed the lipstick bullet, rubbing her lips together as she gave you a concerned side-eye, “People who like you, sissy.”

  Ouch, there’s that brutal honesty.

  “It’s not good for you to be on your own all the time,” She set the lipstick down so she could place a dainty hand on your shoulder, big blue eyes focused on you, “I worry about you. Daddy and mom worry about you. Your doctor worries about you. You need to get out more.” Chrissy stressed, pink lips pulling into a reassuring smile before she went back to focusing on the mirror and her makeup.

  You let out a heavy sigh, mulling her words over. Definitely could have been phrased better, but Chrissy was right. You were currently the town recluse, and occupying your room and the town cemetery wouldn’t change that. 

  “That blush isn’t the right shade for you, sissy.” Chrissy broke you from your thoughts and your eyes drifted back over to your reflection, the girl looking so unsure and right back at you, “You really have to accentuate your features, compliment them, because you’re already beautiful.” 

  Didn’t feel like it.

  Your expression must have given your inner thoughts away because Chrissy turned to you again, practically bouncing, “Wait a minute, you could use my tanning bed!”

  You deadpanned at the mention of the ridiculous full on salon tanning bed that Chrissy owned. There was a dedicated mini garage in the backyard for it, next to the pool, and complete with neon lights, her beauty pageant trophies and sashes as well as her cheer trophies. The PG&E bill was always through the roof for the Tan Shack alone, and you still had no idea how Laura could afford it.

  “No, Chrissy I-I don’t think that would work on me. At all.”

  Chrissy waved off your concerns, “It’s not about the tan, or even if you can tan. It’s the experience. When I lay in that tanning bed, with those little goggles on my eyes and I can hear the buzzing, I feel myself blooming. Regardless of whether or not my skin actually tans,” It didn’t. Chrissy burned but she somehow still looked good, “I feel amazing about myself.”

  “Are you sure that’s not cancer?”

  “You’re so funny!” Chrissy laughed even though you were being serious, “Sissy, every girl deserves to feel beautiful. If I can provide you with an experience that might raise those confidence levels that are dragging across a nail-covered floor right now, why wouldn’t I?”

  Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to decipher if that was a compliment or not, but you didn’t have long to mull it over before Chrissy was framing your face with her hands. 

  “And I can. Please, let me do this.”

  You groaned, long and drawn out and awkward, before squeezing your eyes shut and slowly nodding your head. She squealed, clapped her hands together and dragged you out of the bathroom.

  After explaining how it all worked, Chrissy bid you a cheerful goodbye and left you to your own devices so she could finish getting ready for the night ahead of you both.

  You’d selected your tan level, positive you wouldn’t see any real results but maybe the ‘experience’ would benefit you and shed your fuzzy slippers and robe, leaving you in some boy shorts and a tank top as you tried to settle yourself in the tanning bed. The dip was awkward, and you couldn’t get a good grasp on the top of the tanning bed since it was meant to only open and close rather than stay in position so grasping onto it for balance as you lowered yourself in led to you conking yourself on the head with a noticeable bonk.

  You hissed in pain, rubbing the sore area as you clambered the rest to the way in. Once you’d stretched your legs out, lowered the top, maneuvered the goggles over your face and waited for the magic to happen as you were surrounded by neon blue lights.

  You heard the buzzing as the tanning bed started up. The magic happened alright. The entire tanning bed shocked you, and you shrieked as you felt the intense electric current ripple throughout your body, sparking every single pore in the worst way possible.

“I’m so sorry you got electrocuted, sissy.”

  Chrissy broke the silence as you sulked in the passenger seat, your hair a little bigger than normal and not a result of styling. After getting all five senses shocked out of you, you’d come out with a hairdo that would not usually be up to par with you, and some serious case of static electricity. You’d tried to gently press your hair down and when you saw a literal spark in it, you decided to just leave it alone.

  Your step-sister had been apologizing since.

  “It’s alright. I survived.” And you wanted to forget about it. 

  You could see Chrissy glancing nervously at you from the corner of your eye as she drove you to the party location.

  “So…how are you liking Hawkins Community, so far?” She asked, thankfully changing the subject. 

  “It’s fine. The campus looks relatively the same as the community college I toured in my old town. Classes are decent.” Pitiful. The classes were so boring and straight out of the book, but it cost you a fraction of a fraction of what you’d have to pay to attend a university. 

  Chrissy lips turned up in a mischievous smile and you internally groaned, fully expecting her next question.

  “See any cute boys?” And then, as an afterthought, “Or…girls?” Then she took her eyes off the road again, squinting at you as if she was trying to assess something, “Or…..anyone?” 

  You betrayed yourself, eyes darting to the window before they were back on her and she perked up in the driver’s seat. 

  “Okay, spill.”

  Your heart started thumping wildly in your chest as one particular guy came to mind, but you hadn’t thought about him too much. Hadn’t allowed yourself to entertain the idea of a romance with him. That’s how people got their hopes up and letdown.

  “Sissy! Sissy, come on. You have to tell me. I’m your only friend!” 

  This time, you could tell she was joking, even though she did have merit. You bit your lip as she ribbed you a bit more, the corners of your lips tugging up into a smile. 

  “Okay, okay!” Your hands flew to cover your face, embarrassed, shy and a little giddy all at once to actually be admitting you had a crush. 

  “Steve Harrington.”

  “STEVE HARRINGTON?” She repeated, incredulous and you shushed her even though it was only you two in the car.

  “Sissy, that’s so unexpected! I haven’t really seen him since high school but I didn’t think he’d be your type.” Chrissy admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.

  “He works in the library.” You sighed out, recalling your brief interactions with him when checking out a couple of books. He’d been kind, made a couple of humorous comments about the titles, and always tried to meet your avoidant gaze, which meant he was being nice to you. Coaxing you out of your shell. You actually didn't have much trouble interacting with people, you were more abrasive than you ever were shy, Steve was just a little too easy on the eyes. Made you forget how to talk, and on occasion, walk. It was embarrassing, “Always makes those cute displays with recommendations.”

  “Good for him,” She commented, sounding impressed. “I didn’t really know he was intellectual. Wasn’t, the last I heard. Had a big reputation in high school, seemed kind of mean and everyone called him King Steve.”

  You frowned, feeling the need to protect him, “Didn’t they call you the Queen of Hawkins High?”

  “Yeah, but only to make me seem pretentious.” 

  You raised your eyebrows, glancing away. Chrissy was kind, but sometimes, she could be pretentious.

  “And anyways, I’m not a student at Hawkins High anymore, so they can’t call me that. Maybe Steve really did change. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard much about him since he struck out with a series of girls. Maybe he took a good look at himself and decided a change was needed.” You could feel her eyes on you again. 

  “Does he flirt with you?”

  “No.”

  “See him flirt with any girls?”

  “Nope.”

  “Does he still make his hair all big and poofy?”

  “Looks more voluminous than poofy.”

  Chrissy hummed, “An improvement. Is he all beret wearing and drinking coffee now?”

  You tried to recall ever seeing him in a hat, let alone a beret, “No, I don’t think so. If anything, he’s introspective.”

  “He’s on the spectrum?”

  Your smile waned when you realized she was asking a legitimate question, “Oh. No. That’s—that’s not what that means. I just meant he’s thinking about what he does; how he acts, how he behaves.”

  It got quiet for a few moments.

  ”Well,” Chrissy broke the silence once more, “He might be there tonight. I’m not sure if they’re still friends, but Tommy Hagan is hosting tonight, and once upon a time, they were inseparable.”

  You made a sound of acknowledgment, upper lip twitching in disgust. You knew Tommy, saw him around campus. He was a big jerk, you’d witnessed him throw some guy’s backpack in the trash and pour his drink on it. You wish you’d known it was his party you were going to in advance. Tommy was a nasty piece of work, so his friend group was the same. Out of all of them, though, Carol got on your nerves the most. 

  She didn’t pay you a whole lot of attention, but when you were walking in with Chrissy—and this is Chrissy, so she acknowledged everyone—and she said hi, Carol would just look you up and down before pursing her big mouth like she’d sucked on something sour. One day, you’d like to give her your fist to suck on.

  ”Patrick McKinney is bringing three kegs and I heard Reefer Rick is bringing his whole inventory.”

  “Reefer Rick?”

  “Yeah, he’s the local drug dealer now. I mean, he’s always been but he used to have somebody sell for him while he supplied, but he died.”

  Your eyes widened while your pupils dilated, mind conjuring up some image of a poor dude being murdered for drugs and then the supplier just taking over, not fearful at all of meeting the same fate, “He died?”

  Chrissy nodded her head, looking thoughtful, “Yeah, Eddie Munson.”

  Munson.

  You sat up in your seat, fully alert and invested in the conversation now, “Eddie Munson? Is he buried under the willow tree in the cemetery?”

  You stared at Chrissy, willing her to think faster as she squinted and pursed her lips, “I think Tina mentioned something about someone peeing on a tree over there, so I think so.”

  Your mouth dropped open, expression utterly horrified that someone could do that, “That’s beastly, what the fuck?”

  “I know,” Chrissy sighed with a shake of her head. “I didn't know him all that much, bought some weed off of him a couple of times and he seemed a little scary—appearance and mannerism wise—but he seemed nice when you had to interact with him. He didn’t deserve that.”

  “How did he die?” You asked, voice small and heart shrinking. You didn’t like where this was going. Didn’t like it one bit.

  “Well, the official determination, if I remember right, was like a drug deal gone bad or something, but no one really believes it. He was known to have weed on him, kept the harder stuff somewhere else. Everyone knows he was murdered. They did a number on him, it was all everyone could talk about because Sydney Porter couldn’t even get her dad—he worked at the station—to show her pictures. He told her they messed Eddie up bad. People here really didn’t like him. No one knows who did it though.”

  You sunk back into your seat, mind troubled and stomach turning. This whole time, you'd been tending to and caring for the grave of a murdered guy, taken from this world simply because people didn’t like him. He must have been so lonely. So scared. And they killed him.

  Chrissy was wrong. People in this town knew who killed him, because one of them, or some of them, had to have been his murderers.

  Your fingers curled into tight fists, painted nails digging into the flesh of your palms. Chrissy noticed the change in your demeanor.

  “Oh, sissy. You’re such an empath. Don’t be so sad, I know it’s a horrible story, but he’s resting now. In peace.”

  “No, he’s not. They fucked up his tombstone. He can’t even be dead in peace.” You huffed, furious on his behalf.

  “How do you know?” Chrissy asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. 

  “I go there a lot, it’s nice. Quiet. A little creepy, but that adds to its charm, makes it relatively peaceful. I’ve been visiting all the graves, but I was drawn to him the most. Etched his tombstone. He’s my favorite.”

  Despite the horrors you’d learned, the thought of Mun—Eddie, still brought a wistful smile to your lips. Maybe your presence was enough to settle him, bring him a little bit of peace this town and the people in it refused to give him.

  “H-He’s your favorite…?”

  “Yeah. I feel this….connection with him. From the very first time I visited. Now, I leave him gifts, flowers, pretty stones, poems I wrote, a book of sonnets I stole from the library.”

  “You….should talk to your doctor about this, Sissy. That’s really weird. That’s really weird, sissy.”

  You fought to not roll your eyes. As much as you cared about Chrissy, and knew she cared about you, she didn’t understand you. 

  “Well, since people ruined his grave, I thought it might be nice to clean it up and make sure he’s not forgotten.” You snapped, “It’s not like I call him my boyfriend or anything.”

  Chrissy eyed you skeptically, “Well, then that’s nice of you, I guess. Just don’t go around telling everybody about that, or you’ll be known as the Ghost Whisperer.”

  “He hasn’t talked back to me yet.”

  Chrissy laughed, and freed one hand off the wheel to lightly slap your arm, “See, now that’s funny. If you do tell anyone, end it with that joke. You’ll be a riot.”

  You smirked, staring out the front windshield. You’d let her think it was a joke. For now.

  You made a sound of displeasure as Chrissy pulled into a clear space on the grass and parked. She jumped out to dance over to her friends, some wine coolers cradled in a plastic bag she clutched.

  You allowed yourself a full minute to stew in your misery before getting out of the car and following after her. As you neared her group, you quickly realized that was a bad idea. 

  “Oh my GOD! Vickie, you fixed your teeth! They look so good. I wasn’t gonna say anything because I thought you were happy with the overcrowding, but now that you fixed it, I can’t look away!”

  Yeesh. You beelined away from them and wandered around the crowded front lawn, dodging rowdy friend groups and couples until you spotted a cooler.

  Maybe a drink would calm you down.

  You squatted down and popped the lid, digging around the ice but all you spotted were Pepsi and Squirt cans.

  “The liquid fun is inside.” A guy’s voice came from behind you and you rolled your eyes. You were so not in the mood to be hit on right now. 

  “What?” You asked, tone bored, but you didn’t want to make him seem helpful so you grabbed a Squirt.

  “Alcohol. He keeps it inside.”

  You slammed the cooler shut and popped the tab of the can, rising to your feet, “Yeah, I figured that mu—shhhh.”

  Oh, shit. 

  Steve Harrington was standing before you, eyes alight with mirth as he smirked down at you.

  You swallowed hard, hoping to god your tongue hadn’t gone down with the movement. See? Here you went getting all stupid around him.

  ”Funny seeing you here.”

  You laughed nervously, “Yeah. I—uh, mhm.” You forced yourself to take a drink of your soda to keep from making an even bigger fool of yourself.

  “Sorry if it’s weird of me to just walk up to you. I was chilling on the side of the house and thought I saw you, but I’m a little nearsighted and I didn’t bring my glasses.”

  You pulled the can away from your mouth as your brain registered the lack of metal frames on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome with and without them, that wasn’t fair. It was still throwing you off. 

  “It’s—It’s okay. Uhm, no harm done.” You shrugged your shoulders, hoping it looked cool and not as stiff as you felt. You even added in a smile with some teeth for a little razzle dazzle.

  “I actually came over here to tell you your books are significantly overdue.” Steve deadpanned, tongue playing with his canine tooth as he scrutinized you and you shrunk, smile falling from your face. You had got to get better at following up on your due dates.

  “Oh.”

  He scoffed, face breaking out into a grin as his shoulders shook with his chuckles “I’m kidding.”

  OH, THANK FUCK. 

  “Oh,” And then, because every god probably hates you, you started snorting with laughter. You cut that shit quick, clearing your throat as you took another sip of your beverage.

  “So,” Steve took a step closer to you, “Are you enjoying─”

  “Hey!” Carol stepped right up to Steve, practically leaning all over him as her ruby red lips spread into a seductive smile, eyes lidded and no doubt a few drinks in with a drink for Steve in her hand. For the billionth time that night, you rolled your eyes, trying not to gag at how desperate she was. You knew Tommy had recently dumped her, the entire town knew and now she was clearly trying to get into Steve’s pants, “I found the keg.”

  She could eat shit, his pants were yours.

  “Oh, Thank you.” Came Steve’s bleak reply and part of you thought he might have actually wanted to talk to just you. Now, you were really annoyed she’d interrupted.

  “Hey, Carol.”

  Carol looked surprised that you’d even dare speak to her, raising her eyebrows, “Hey. Hi— sorry, how do we know each other?”

  “You’re my lab partner.” You were unimpressed, you expected her to be a better mean girl. 

  “Yay me.” The smile she directed at you was anything but friendly, reminding you of the one Laura would make after you did something in public she didn’t like, but she couldn’t yell at you until you were home. Carol swirled the liquid in her cup around, head tilting as she offered it to you, “You wanna sip, partner?”

  “Carol.” Steve warned and she tutted, flicking her wrist.

  “You’re right, I don’t know why I assumed she partied.”

  “I’ll take a beer,” You could handle alcohol, had cleared your mother’s wine cabinet after she was murdered, so this would be no big deal.

  Carol looked annoyed but handed you the cup, and to make sure you wouldn’t gag and vomit, you threw it back, throat opening as you swallowed the liquid as fast as you could to refuse it as much time on your taste buds as possible.

  When you lowered the cup, you realized you’d made a mistake and glanced into it at the small amount left behind, watching as the ground in your peripheral view began to shift.

  Steve seemed to realize something was wrong, quickly taking your cup and ingesting what was left. His suspicions were confirmed and he spat it out on the grass before scowling at Carol, “PCP? Really, Carol? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell would you give that to her!?”

  “Oopsie.”

  But it was too late for you. You dropped the soda can in your other hand and lifted your hands to your face, watching the lines around your palms and fingers begin to move, swirling around and you backed away from them, watching as everything around you began to come undone.

  “Hey!” You heard a voice next to you and someone started rubbing your back, you hadn’t even realized you were crouching. You craned your head up to see Chrissy and you frowned. Her voice was so different, distorted. She sounded more like your dad than Chrissy. 

  Her face was both far away and right in front of you, you reached a hand out to test the theory, see if it really was close. Chrissy caught your wrist, frowning at the state you were falling into.

  Chrissy started asking you questions, about what you’d taken, what you drank but her voice was too loud for you, and the purple behind her head was distracting. Still, you nodded your head.

  At your confirmation, Chrissy’s frown intensified and she helped you to the ground before darting over to chew Steve and Carol out.

  You couldn’t stay on the grass for long, the blades of it stabbing you and sending pain shooting up your palms and into your bones so you crawled some distance away before you managed to push yourself up and stumble towards the house. It was hard.

  Everything was moving. You heard a loud sound and glanced around wildly until you were staring up at the sky, mouth dropping open to see green clouds and lightning. 

  You had to get away, the need to escape, be safe was urgent but it felt like the closer you got to the front door, the farther away it went. Your breathing was heavy and panicked as you kept stumbling forward, arm outstretched and finally you reached it.

  You yanked it open and nearly fell inside, tripping over your feet until you hit the back of the couch and used it to sink to the floor.

  You heard your name being called and lifted your head, eyes crazed as you tried to find the source. Fred Benson approached you, the skinny boy squatting to be eye level with you.

  “You okay?” He asked and you reached forward, grasping his face in your hand and squeezing to make sure he was a real person.

  “You.” Was all you said, booping his nose but still suspicious of him. Was he real?

  “Uh, yeah. It’s me. It’s Fred, we sit next to each other in ASL class.”

  He looked like Fred. You still didn’t believe he was human, squinting as your hands grasped at the back of the couch.

  “You don’t look so good,” Fred pushed the frame of his glasses up his nose, brows furrowed in concern, “Let's find somewhere for you to sit down for a minute. Or maybe a while. Man, what did you drink?”

  He stood up, offering you a hand and you took it but didn’t pull yourself up. Fred heaved with all his might and managed to get you on your feet but he realized just walking you wouldn’t be enough, and so did you because you draped yourself over him, one arm over his scrawny shoulders.

  Fred cursed under his breath but held your weight, leading you out of the populated living room and you watched a couple furiously make out on the couch cushions as you passed.

  “I hate parties. I don’t know why I came—well, actually I do. I never got invited to these in high school, so I guess I’m living out my fantasy now. In all honesty, I’d much rather be watching Weird Science. So far tonight, I’ve seen three cheerleaders throw up and a baby being conceived.”

  “Uh huh,” Was all you could get out, watching people swirl past you like shooting stars.

  “Would you count that as escaping the teen pregnancy statistic? I know they’re out of high school, but we’re all still pretty young.” He commented as he led you up the stairs. You tripped several times and almost sent him flying down them but the two of you managed to make it. 

  Fred was heaving by the time you'd shouldered him into the hallway wall, his face and hands clammy.

  ”Good god, how did I pass P.E.?” The two of you paused there until he regained his breath while you plastered yourself against the wall, cheek pressed to it and hands stroking over the wallpaper. Eventually, Fred peeled you off of it and kept moving until he could find a place to put you.

  “You like movies right? Got any favorite directors? Or favorite films?”

  “Wall.”

  “Huh? Oh, you’re just admiring the wallpaper.”

  “Great Wall of China.”

  Fred positioned you against the wall, looking a little annoyed. You didn’t care, could only focus on the framed photo of the Great Wall of China directly across from you.

  “Oh.” Was all he said when he spotted it. “Stay right here.”

  Then he disappeared and you watched as the painting came to life, and the stones of the wall began moving, rippling. You didn’t even know stones could move like that but now it made so much more sense. 

  Fred appeared again, tugging you along into an empty room. You spotted a trash can and nearly threw Fred into the bedroom wall as you dove for it, retching everything out of your stomach. You could hear Fred gagging, but he was decent enough to make sure your hair stayed out of your way. When you were done, he helped sit you up on the bed, and nearly collapsed next to you.

  ”We did it,” he cheered with no real gusto. And you sat there, still feeling the earth orbiting. It was the most odd sensation, you could feel a spot on your brain pulsing, like a migraine but it felt so euphoric to close your eyes.

  “Here,” They snapped right back open and you glanced to your side to see Fred offering you a handkerchief. Of course Fred Benson carried around a handkerchief. How amusing. 

  “Thank you,” You gave the three versions of him you could see right then a smile and used the handkerchief to wipe your mouth, eyelids fluttering close just as the sound of thunder filled the room, and a flashing of lightning accompanied it.

  “Huh, a rainless thunderstorm, looks like the angels are bowling.” You heard him muse next to you.

  And it brought another smile to your face, “My mom used to say that.”

  At the mention of her, your brain conjured up all the happy feelings and memories of her, huddled on your couch, in your old home watching black and white horror films. They didn’t scare her, so she could tolerate them. You missed her. She made you feel so light, so seen, so—no.

  Something was wrong. Something felt very, very wrong.

  Your smile faded and you felt your belly sink as you opened your eyes.

  “Does that feel good?”

  You didn’t want to, but you looked down to see Fred’s hand on your breast. Your breathing picked up and Fred let go of you to grab your wrist and force you to touch his crotch, “Well don’t just sit there, help me out. Finish what you started.” 

  Anger filled you and you yanked your hand away, “No.”

  Fred opened his mouth as you got up, rushing away from him and stumbling back out the way you remembered while he yelled at you.

  You had to get out, had to get away. Had to be safe, feel safe. You banged against walls as you went, desperate to get out of the house, away from Fred, from everyone, and to safety. That was your only concern as the drug really hit you.

  All you could remember was seeing colors, hearing and feeling the wind against your sweaty skin, leaves blowing with it and gusting around you.

  You had no idea how you escaped the mad house, how long you’d even been walking or how you actually got there, but you found yourself in front of the cemetery, a flash of lightning illuminating the gate.

  To anyone else, a cemetery would have been the worst place to find themselves on a night like this, but you’d already been to hell so you trudged forward, feet taking you to him. Even in your drugged state, you were able to find your way to Eddie. Always would be.

  Your knees dug into the grass as you collapsed in front of his tombstone, fingers reaching forward to trace over MUN and 1986 before your body curled around the large stone, hugging yourself to it. Electric blue tears slipped down your cheeks, staining them with your mascara.

  “I wish I was with you.” You whispered, hating everything, hating this town, hating the people, hating Fred Benson, hating Carol, hating Laura Cunningham, hating how your mom wasn’t alive, hating how the one person you’d unknowingly sought for comfort was someone you’d never met before who was six feet under the ground. And you hated how you weren’t down there.

  You laid there, hugging his tombstone for hours under the thunder and lightning as the PCP slowly left your system.

  When you were able to stand up on your own, you gave the tombstone another kiss, rested your forehead against it and quietly thanked him for helping you find your way home before you left, following the path you���d made during all of your visits.

  The house was quiet when you got in, and Chrissy’s car hadn’t been parked in the driveway when you’d walked up so you figured she was still at the party. Sluggishly, you made your way up the stairs, falling into your shared bathroom. Your hand searched the wall, struggling to find the switch. Once your fingertips made contact with it, you flipped it and squinted as the room was flooded with the warm light. It was still too much for your eyes but you kept it on and walked towards the mirror

  The girl looking back at you was not the same one you’d last seen in it. This girl had blue smudged all around her eyes, faint trails of it over her cheeks and a rats nest for hair. Her eyes burned, not from the light, but from a fury within. 

  She was stuck in a life she didn’t want to live and couldn’t do anything about. As a large strike of lightning flashed from the window positioned at the back of the bathroom, towards the back of the house, you decided to put her out of her misery, picking up a blow dryer and smashing it against your reflection with a yell.

  You stood there, chest heaving as you stared at the broken reflection. Then you tossed the blow dryer onto the counter, and went to bed.

  Your dreams were much more pleasant than your reality, eyelids fluttering open to the ceiling of your old bedroom. A glance to your side confirmed your mother’s photo was at your bedside, next to your alarm clock on your old bedside table.

  “Well?” Her photo asked, shooting you that gorgeous smile of hers, “What are you waiting for? Go get him.”

  Your confusion was momentary, your mother raised her chin in a direction and you knew what would happen, you were giddy for it as you looked down to see yourself wrapped in the most beautiful wedding gown you’d ever seen.

  You rose from the bed into a sitting position, picking up the bouquet on the pillow next to you. Your dresser mirror was directly across from your bed and you took a moment to admire the beautiful girl staring back at you. Where you last remember seeing trails of tears were diamonds, glittering against your skin. Her eyes sparkled with a joy you’d never known. You bid her one last smile as you turned your head to the figure sitting on the edge of your bed, dark curls cascading down his neck, past broad shoulders with his back to you. 

  His right arm was out, palm up.

  He was waiting for you.

  You shifted until you were on the edge of your bed next to him, staring straight forward just as he was.

  Without looking, you knew exactly where his hand was, and you placed your left one over it, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. Slowly, the two of you leaned towards each other, until your head was on his shoulder and his cheek was pressed against the top of your head, his fingers curling around your hand to ground you. You sighed, all the tension and weight of the world leaving you.

  “Sissy. . .”

  “Sissy…”

  “SISSY!”

  You groaned as Chrissy shook you awake, eyes prying through all the mascara that had crusted over your eyes. It took a couple of blinks until you regained your clear vision, gaze locking on Chrissy leaning over you. Her face was clean of any makeup, skin glowing and hair wrapped up in rollers.

  She’d gotten home later than you and had still been able to look perfect. 

  What the hell?

  “You better get up, sissy. My mom’s losing it over the bathroom mirror.”

  You were confused for a second until you remembered smashing it with a blow dryer last night—or this morning. Well, it definitely would have broken at the sight of you now, anyways. 

  You frowned but made no move to get up so Chrissy tugged your blanket off of you, giggling when the both of you realized you had your hand in your underwear. Hastily, you yanked it out, and threw the blankets back over yourself.

  “It’s okay, Sissy. Everyone does it. It’s natural.”

  “Oh my god…”

  “So, what happened last night to bring this on?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you stared at her for a second. Part of you wanted to yell at her, berate her for letting you stumble around while high on a drug you’d never taken before, the other half knew in Chrissy’s World, it was all rainbows and sunshine—at least, it had been since she’d forced her mother to respect her boundaries. Chrissy didn’t expect the worst in anyone, didn't expect anyone to take advantage of you and certainly didn't expect you to wind up walking to the cemetery and then home on a bad trip. No, in Chrissy’s World, you’d probably spent the night flirting with someone, probably Steve, maybe fooled around in his car before he drove you home.

  You didn’t see it necessary to shatter her world so you groaned instead, the full force of your migraine hitting you now that you were out of sleep’s clutches, and covered your hands with your face.

  “Ooh, your knees…”

  You glanced down to see what she was staring at and sure enough, your knees were scratched up from kneeling at Eddie’s grave, but in Chrissy’s World…

  “I fell.” Was the only excuse you could come up with and Chrissy smirked.

  “Me, too.” Her eyelid dropped in a wink just as Laura yelled upstairs for you, so, begrudgingly, you wrapped yourself in your robe and headed downstairs to receive your punishment.

  Just as you suspected, Laura had attacked you with allegations—that were true for once, you had smashed the bathroom mirror—and your dad looked like he could care less.

  “You know,” She stated, fixing you with those unnaturally blue eyes of hers, “Your dad wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. See the good in you, but I knew. I’m an Intuitive Person, you know. An IP. They’ve got seminars for people like me.”

  Your mind flashed to How to Handle a Narcissist. 

  “Laura…” Your dad warned and Laura inhaled sharply, displeased that your dad was sticking up for you. For once. 

  “Did you know there was a tornado last night? It hailed. Wind blew the fence over. The yard is covered in debris, and now I have to focus on repairing the bathroom, too. I don’t think that’s fair.” She huffed and Chrissy spoke up from her place on the couch.

  “It was a tornado watch, mom. Not a real tornado.”

  “Actually, Chris, the weather was downright crazy last night. I mean, it was really something, I saw green lightning. Big balls of it in the sky.”

  You and Chrissy shared secret smiles at hearing your dad talk about big balls.

  “Love muffin, could you swap out being a weatherman for being a father, right now?” Laura gritted out through her chemically whitened teeth.

  “It’s a Meteorologist,” You mumbled and her head snapped over to glare at you before she was speaking to your father again.

  “Honey, your daughter is a vandal. She’s got a taste for vandalism, and she is deliberately vandalizing and destroying property. First, it was my collection of Precious Moments figurines─”

  “That was an accident, you didn’t wrap them in bubble wrap and I dropped the box when I tripped over the front steps.”

  “Mother,” Chrissy chided, hands crossing over her robe. “Be. Nice.”

  “I am being nice,” Laura hissed, glare never leaving you, “But I refuse to coddle her. She’s headed straight to the nut house with this behavior.”

  You frowned, wiping away some of the dried mascara under your eye, “Can you say that if you’re a Psych Nurse?”

  Laura had the decency to look embarrassed before whacking your father’s arm. He sighed, putting his newspaper down, “Sweetheart─”

  You clocked the twitch in Laura’s eyelid at the affectionate name your father used to refer to you.

  “─You’re gonna clean your bathroom, alright? Sweep up all that glass.”

  ”And?” Laura pushed, still staring at you.

  “And…..um. Pay for the mirror, I guess.” Laura turned her nose up, hurmphing. 

  “That’s fine, can I get ready for work now?”

  Your dad nodded and Laura looked like she wanted to protest but you turned your back to her and made your way upstairs, hesitating at the top when your fathered turned the volume of the TV back on and you heard the news reporter reporting from the cemetery, talking about a grave, under a tree, that had been struck by lightning. 

  You wondered if it had been Eddie’s. There’s no way you’d be able to check today, you’d get home from work too late, so you’d have to check tomorrow.

  You tried to stay busy during your shift at the local tailor’s. You didn’t really have a passion for it, but you were relatively good with a needle and thread. With the magnifier headlamp, you were practically unstoppable, altering coats, dresses, blouses, shirts, all with minimal finger injuries—though luminol on some of these clothing items would no doubt reveal traces of your blood.

  But hey—you now knew what it meant to work so hard you put your blood into something and you always had band-aids on you, in case anyone needed one.

  You were so invested in your work, you hadn’t heard the bell above the door chime when it was pushed open, and didn’t notice Steve leaning against the counter, watching you work until he cleared his throat.

  You jumped, head swinging around to see your crush smiling at you and you raised the magnifying glass portion of the head lamp off your face, feeling embarrassed that he’d seen you with the headgear on in the first place.

  “Hey! I didn’t know you worked here.”

  You let out some nervous laughter, mind racing for ways to make this seem cool but you came up short. “Yeah, I—employed.”

  “I can see that,” He chuckled, amused by your lack of verbal sparring.

  You didn’t know what to say after that so you stared, fingers twisting and pulling the thread you’d been working with, desperate for him to say something or get out.

  “Oh! Uh, I heard you guys also get rid of stains? I’ve got this one on my pan─”

  “THAT WE DO!” 

  You sighed, eyes slipping shut as your moron of a boss came bursting out of the office.

  “What can we do for you, Harrington?” Murray asked, leaning against the counter, causing Steve to lean back, smile now less than thrilled.

  “Murray…I forgot you worked here.” Steve said it in a voice that made you think he would have avoided the shop had he known who it was that was currently in charge of running it.

  “Yup, got me this sweet little gig. And no radios.” He gestured around to the shop, void of any technology save for the cash register—and he made sure it was never him operating it, “Would like to see the government try to control me now.”

  “Right, I just came here to drop off my pants, spilled something on—well, it doesn’t really matter, I just spilled something on them.” Steve placed the folded pair of pants on the counter and Murray immediately unfolded them, searching through the fabric until he found the stain by his crotch. To both your horror and Steve’s, he lifted the strained fabric to his nose, sniffing deep.

  “Mm. White wine?”

  It took Steve a moment to find his voice and close his jaw, “Crush. The soda.”

  “Same thing. We’ll get this right out, my man.”

  You and Steve shared one more look of disbelief before he slowly backed away, the bell above the door sounding as he left.

  “He’s a nice guy,” Murray commented and you shrugged your shoulders, wanting this conversation to be over, “I’m surprised you know him, little loser.”

  You shot him a glare.

  “Oh, c’mon, lets not pretend you’ve got an active social life—if I call you in for a shift, you’re available. Nothing wrong with being a loser. I was one throughout high school and look at me now. Who got the last laugh?”

  You were positive the look of pain on your face should have told Murray that anyone other than him got the last laugh. He was a forty something year old, afraid of technology, convinced the government was watching him, who tried to befriend teenagers. 

  You’d have to kill yourself if you were anything like him.

  When he disappeared back into the office, because of course you’d have to get rid of that stain for Steve, you snatched the pair of pants off the counter. Glancing around to make sure there weren’t any eyes on you, you pressed them to the side of your face, imagining yourself hugging Steve instead of the pants. They smelled like him. It was bliss.

  Then your eyes snapped open.

  Oh, god. You were a loser.

  After your shift, you’d gone straight home. Normally, you’d stop to grab a bite or something, you still had to pay for the mirror you broke so fast food was off the table for a couple of weeks, but on your dining room table when you walked into the house.

  A pizza box. Your stomach growled as you imagined the slice of cheese waiting for you.

  “Is there any left?” You asked, already making a beeline for it.

  “Should be a slice left,” Your dad mused and as you tossed the top of it open, all you wanted to do was maybe beat him with it.

  There, on the parchment liner of the pizza box, was the skinniest and tiniest slice of pizza to ever be cut. Not even the width of two of your fingers.

  “Want me to order another one, sweetheart?” Your dad asked and Laura immediately inserted herself into the conversation. 

  “She can eat it, love muffin. Besides, we’ve got vegetables in the fridge if she’s still not full.”

  “I said we should have ordered two, but my mom had a coupon she wanted to use.” Chrissy didn’t sound impressed.

  “Yes, we got a free soda!”

  Chrissy ignored her mom, “Sissy, we’re going to the movies! You could get something there, they sell pizza and nachos, right?”

  You knew she was trying to find a solution for you, but your bullshit meter for the day had already been capped. You didn’t want movie theater pizza or concessions, you wanted a  reasonable slice of this pizza, not some scrap your step-mother had saved you. It was obvious she was implying that she, your dad and Chrissy were the perfect sized family and you were simply an afterthought. Unwelcome.

  “Yeah, I’m passing on the movie.”

  Before you could stomp upstairs, Chrissy caught your hand.

  “Sissy, please? We’ve got to bond as a family, it’s crucial. If it takes two, how can I do it as one?” She pulled you into her side.

  “Really, Chrissy, I’m super tired.”

  “You’re tired?” Laura asked, incredulous. Here we go again.

  “All you do is work with a sewing machine for hours like some old spinster, I can hardly imagine that being tiring, but my Chrissy just got back from a five hour long cheer practice. They were throwing her around like raggedy ann and she stuck every landing.” 

  “Mom, stop.” Chrissy blushed, but you could see how proud she was of herself, “I’m sure Sissy pokes herself with those needles all the time, and it hurts, I’ve been prodded myself during all of my custom fittings.”

  “I have finger calluses so I don’t even bleed anymore,” You begrudgingly admitted, “I can take it.”

  “I bet you can.”

  After they’d left for the movies, you’d gone upstairs, showered, put on your comfiest pajamas and fuzziest slippers, you grabbed a bowl of chips and set yourself up in front of the TV to watch Dawn of the Dead. You had to give props to all these zombie actors, you couldn’t imagine having to act out being one of the walking undead, imagined it felt pretty stupid but the paycheck and experience must have been cool.

  You popped another chip into your mouth just as someone knocked on the front door. As you placed the bowl of chips on the table to get up, the knocking got louder, more aggressive and you hesitated, fear beginning to swell up inside of you.

  Maybe if you ignored it, they’d go away.

  You turned your attention back to the tv, picking up the remote to lower the volume and hopefully hide your presence in the house. 

  Then, much to your horror, you heard the distinct sound of a pained, gurgling groan. It sounded very similar to the ones you’d heard the zombies making on your tv, but this one was louder. 

  And it was coming from outside your front door.

  You crouched, duckwalking to the foyer where one of the house phones was placed. You’d just picked it up from the receiver when a shadow from the living room window caught your eye. You barely had time to turn your head when something came crashing through it, breaking the glass and yanking the curtains from the rod.

  Shocked, the phone slipped from your hands, banging against the hardwood floor of the foyer and you let out a scream at the same time as the person on your TV, running away from the figure invading your home. 

  You made it to the dinning room. Literally scrambling across the table to put an obstacle between you and the stranger—no, creature. Tall, caked in mud, leaves and stems, it resembled the Swamp Thing. It grunted, groans low and reverberating off the walls.

  “Uuuhhhnng…”

  This couldn’t be happening to you, you couldn’t die like this!!!! It was supposed to be by your hand or nothing!

  ”STAY AWAY FROM ME!” You shrieked, picking up the decorative plates from the table to throw at the creature. You nailed it a couple of times, watching it stumble as the fine china shattered against it. When you ran out of plates, you bolted from the dinning room, screaming as you scrambled up the stairs, and lost one of your slippers in the process but to hell with it! You had to get out of there. Hopefully, one of your neighbors heard your shrieks of terror and called the police.

  You peaked over the railing at the top of the stairs, to see the creature analyzing your slipper. While it was distracted, you locked yourself in your room and made your way to your bedroom window, pulling it open.

  “Okay, okay. I can do this, no big deal. Stunt actors do it all the time.” You climbed outside of your window, body nearly convulsing as you almost slipped down the roof, “Nonononono.”

  You tried to grip onto a couple of shingles but they gave away, slipping right off the house to shatter against the concrete walkway and you realized Laura had no fucking idea what she was doing when it came to house repairs, the dumb bitch had just laid the shingles out without securing them.

  “OH MY GOD-I’M GONNA DIE! HELP!”

  Your body slipped further down the roofing, until you were forced to grab the gutter, gagging when your fingers squelched against whatever was in it. You dangled a good six feet off the ground, and while it wasn’t exactly a ten story fall, with your luck, you’d land on your head and break your neck.

  Whimpering, you tried to pull yourself back up the roof, but it was no use. You had nothing stable to grab onto as you yanked yet another shingle clean off. You glared at it and muttered a goddammit before tossing it somewhere behind you as you went back to hanging on for dear life. 

  “Oh, no.” You mumbled, terrified as your fingertips began to lose their grip, wet with the mystery sludge from the gutter. “No, NO!” 

  You lost your grip, plummeting down but you didn’t meet the concrete. No, the Creature broke your fall and you were now face to face with it. The pressure of you landing on it, made it spit up into your face, green sludge, and you gasped before breaking out into screams again.

  Pushing yourself up and off of it as you ran around your front yard, nearly blind. You were not opening your eyes to let that bacteria infested swamp slime, water, whatever the hell it was, into your eyeballs. 

  You could hear the Creature stomping around behind you as you bobbed and weaved, could feel his presence and you could not believe you were actually gonna die fighting off a swamp monster in your front yard while blinded—in clear and plain view for your neighbors to see, by the way, and unbeknownst to you, an elderly couple was watching you, not even a little concerned about your well being or the creature chasing you around.

  “Stop it!”

  “Leave me alone!”

  “Go away, I’m just a girl!”

  The timed sprinklers went off and you were soon assaulted with them as well. With just about all your senses done for, and the sprinklers washing the guck away from your face, you made a run for the house, slamming your back against the door and locking it behind you.

  Your chest was heaving, wet body pumping with adrenaline as the back of your head thumped against the door. You weren’t done yet. That creature was still out there!!!

  You dove for the phone on the ground, hanging by its springy cord and shouted out hopefully loud enough for it to hear, “I’m calling the police, so if you don’t want your ass riddled with bullets, I’d suggest you leave! They shoot before asking questions!”

  You frantically dialed 911 but there was no ringing, instead, you could still hear buttons being pressed on the other line.

  Bleak, and accepting your fate, you put the phone back on the receiver, and turned towards the living room, where the other phone was located. 

  On the chair, next to where the table the phone normaly rested on, was The Creature. 

  You grabbed one of the lamps, ready to use it as a weapon but it didn’t attack you, just turned the phone receiver this way and that, as if admiring it. 

  Despite your fear, you took a reluctant step forward, casting the creature in the glow of the lamp you clutched and for like the billionth time that night, you gasped.

  The sprinklers had washed some of the filth off of it, too. Before, its head had been caked in a mud helmet, but now, you could actually see it’s head. It had long, disgustingly dirty curls, and wore a leather jacket, jeans and tennis shoes, all covered in grime.

  When it craned its head up to look at you, you readied the lamp, poised to throw it at it—him. It was a guy. Big brown eyes, stared up at you and he made no move to attack.

  Slowly, you lowered the lamp, and crouched down a few feet away.

  His attention returned to the phone—shoe shaped—in his hands and shakily, with stiff limbs, he put it back on the receiver.

  “It’s…It’s cool looking, right? The-The shoe phone.” 

  He glanced over at you and then the phone again as you mumbled out an explanation, 

“Our neighbor in our old town cheated on his wife and she threw all his stuff out the window at him and my dad snatched the phone.”

  “Merrrruhhhhh.” He moaned out, picking up your slipper and offering it to you. When you just stared, he dropped it and you moved the lamp to the side, crossing your legs.

  “I’ve never seen a zombie before.” You marveled, then squinted, “You are a zombie, right? An undead?”

  It took him an entire minute to choppily raise his shoulders, you realized he was shrugging. Or trying to. Every movement he made was choppy. Reminded you of how stop motion was made, except his scenes weren’t being played fast enough to have fluid movements.

  He tried to get up and promptly slipped, accidentally elbowing the mini sound system at his side. It turned on, Sinead O’Connor’s Drink Before the War playing. You’d been the last to use it.

  You watched as his head tilted in interest as Sinead began to croon out lyrics.

  “Do you like music? This is Sinead O’Connor. She makes music that heals souls.”

  He raised his wrist to his chest and you inhaled sharply as you realized he was missing the hand on it.

  “Uhm, no—I don’t think she healed your soul. I meant like, figuratively. Her music makes people feel.” You placed your hands on your own chest, trying to convey your meaning, “She’s one of my favorites.”

  A surprisingly comforting silence fell over the two of you—though he sometimes made his quiet dead guy gross sounds—as you stared at him, taking in the green-gray tint of his skin beneath the dirt all over him, cheeks sunken in. You had a feeling if you touched his skin, it’d be hard, maybe waxy and it was a bit unnerving how human his eyes were, but duh! Of course they were, he was a human. Just. A dead one. At least he wasn’t a skeleton.

  Man, Hollywood wasn’t too far off with their interpretation.

  “C’mon,” You stood up, eyes taking in the state of your home and all the dirt the two of you had dragged in, “I gotta hide you, new dead friend.”

[zzoupz]

dnd au from a whiiiiiiiiiiile ago i never finished or posted uhhh have them ^_^

[glassedplanets]

sketches from fic i've written!

idk if i'm a particularly visual writer or not... i guess it's a maybe? i try to visualize the scene or setting particularly if it's complex just to make sure it Makes Sense and then that sometimes leads to me having a very specific sort of Scene™ in mind. it's so weirdly difficult to draw things based on what i've written bc sometimes the Writing Scene just doesn't go the way i would draw it, and/or i feel like my skill level isn't quite there yet........ but that's the challenge!!! and the more i do this, the better i get. or maybe i just get braver. i guess it's the same thing to a degree 🤷‍♂️

in any case:

1. the blood of the covenant (ye olde wano aftermath)

2. in stitches (law's terrible horrible no good very bad series of realizations)

3. swordbearer (hiyori wants to fuck around but ends up finding out) (this statement entirely misrepresents the tone of the fic)

4. bodyswap AU (what it says on the tin, Now With 25% More Smut)

[mikithelibrarian]

When you fall in love with them - Queen! BLACKPINK - AU - GN! Reader

Fluff

A/N: Decided to add the TWs to each individual scenario as they are needed and modified the name of a real-life country to adapt it to a fantasy setting, I'll gladly receive any comments if you wish me to change any of this.

AU Index

Previous Part

Next Part

Jisoo

As you walked through the halls of the hallways of the castle, you couldn’t stop yourself from remembering how all has changed. You were a grown-up and the official personal servant for Your Majesty, Queen Jisoo.

Ever since she stepped up to the maximum position in the realm, she made sure to make some changes to it, up until she practically remodeled how everything looked. Jisoo built gardens, fountains and many places for the people to gather, such as parks and marketplaces, she also ordered to repaint a lot of the royal buildings, passing from the monotone grey to a brighter white tone.

Those changes also impacted the insides and outsides of the castle. What once was a place that inspired fear became a place that inspired security, coziness, something you thanked for. You remember getting lost in these hallways, running away from the now Queen as she insisted on playing hide-and-seek. How the darkness engulfed you, how the steps of the patrolling guards put you on your nerves, how you sometimes felt prisoner of the royal family; but then, she would appear, smile at you and tell you that it was her turn to hide now.

She was always gentle with you and treated you as an equal, unlike her parents.

It was then when you decided to look through one of the windows and noticed Jisoo running around exterior of the castle, still in her royal dress but without any care in the world if it got dirty or not. She was playing tag with some of the kids of the servants that worked for the royal family. To think that in just some hours she would put on a façade to receive a diplomat from one of your neighboring kingdoms made you smile.

You put that thought aside and continued walking until you exited the castle, about to go into town in search of a new board game you heard a foreigner merchant just brought with them, maybe Jisoo would like it. That was until a hand gently touched your shoulder, prompting you to look to your side, seeing the bright smile of the Queen.

“You´re it!”

After all this time, everything but her has changed. She was still this crazy woman that just wanted to have fun, to be happy. In that short moment in which you were processing that you were now forced to play with her, you came to a realization.

You were part of her happiness, and she was part of yours too.

Jennie

TW: Strong language, mentions of war, fighting, blood and injuries

“General (Y/N) got injured”

Those words kept repeating on her head as she ran to your room. How dare the doctor follow your orders to hide that fact from her as much as he could?! And how dare you wanted to keep it a secret from her?!

When she sent you off to conquer the enemy’s capital and finish the war, she asked only one thing from you: Be safe. Now she hears you weren’t just in the battlefield managing your troops, but also in the frontlines putting yourself more in danger?!

She was glad you didn’t die, so she could kill you herself.

“You better have a good excuse for keeping this a secret!” She exclaimed as she barged into your room. You immediately sat up in your bed, deciding that the fear of an angry Queen was way worse than the pain you were feeling in your stomach.

“We won” You said in a low tone and small smile, trying to convince her to be merciful with you.

“I could care less if we won or not! I asked you one thing (Y/N)! Just one! And you said you would!” Jennie got closer to your bed, her eyes slowly filling up with tears. “Is your word worth nothing?! Does my feelings mean nothing to you?!”

“My Queen-

“Shut up!” When Jennie was beside your bed, she knelt and gently grabbed your hand. “Just shut up”

As the soldier you were, you followed her orders and resisted the urge to argue back. You were an extension of the royal family, that was what your parents told you when you were training with them, a mean to an end, if you were to die following orders of the royal family, it was an honor. Your father, the marshal and your mother, the army strategist, made sure to engrave those ideals by fire into your brain.

As long as you live, you’ll only be a weapon for the Kim Dynasty, rightful rulers of the divided land known as Zeland. Then, why was the Queen crying into your hand? Crying for someone that was equal to a plain sword?

“Jennie” You dared to speak up, your other hand reaching to caress her head, trying to calm her down. “My health means nothing if I can fulfill your will”

“For me it does!” Jennie raised her head forcing you take your hand off her, her eyes red and puffy from crying looked into yours. “I prefer to be disposed of my crown rather than losing you!”

You wanted to think that she was only exaggerating, but it was impossible by the way those eyes didn’t falter at her statement.

Why show such concern for you when nobody has done it since the death of your parents?

In that moment you dared to caress her cheek with your free hand as she received the display of affection, going to a point in which she leaned just a tiny bit into your hand, not wanting to surrender her anger and frustration.

“I’m so sorry, My Queen”

Rosé

With doubt in her mind, Roseanne walked towards the new section of the castle gardens with a flowerpot, a red rose standing tall over the dirt on it. During these months, she has been learning how to properly grow a flower, just from looking at you preparing the ground for the new flowers to blossom into their vivid colors.

This new section of the garden was only reserved for you and her, as it was her orders, while the old section was re-opened to the public after twenty years. She named you her ‘personal gardener’, a new title she created just for you to be able to take care of the reserved section and to manage the new gardeners she hired to maintain the old garden.

She already had plans for this new reserved section, she wanted to receive very important diplomatic visits there, even thinking about restoring the lost connection between their closest kingdoms, but not before having a date with you.

Roseanne has maintained her silence for far too long, she wanted you to be hers, and only hers, imagining you with a crown on your head and a throne beside her, ruling as equals.

As she entered the reserved section through the ark that was built to divide it from the rest of the ground, saluting the guards protecting this section, her surroundings were covered by a dense section of trees as she continued travelling through the stone path. Suddenly, those trees opened into a clearing, in which you were, tending the garden.

The new private garden was full of red and pinks roses, per the Queen’s request, and even added some black roses for contrast. In the middle of the garden, a gazebo complemented the look with a tea table in it, for when Rosé wanted to be alone, or alone with someone. It looked like a description of a fantasy book, a part of the world irradiating so much magic that it was hard to think she was awake. The roses were shining as if they could irradiate their own light and the vivid colors alongside the faint aroma of roses made the Queen to immediately lower her guard and enjoy the relaxation it brought.

However, that relaxation was short-lived as she now remembered that she wanted to give you the rose she has been taking care of for months, but now she felt insecure about it. Compared to the roses in the garden, the one she grew didn’t have such colors or presence, it was healthy, but it was not radiating.

She wanted to run away, to throw the flower and start again, until you finally noticed her presence and immediately stood up to bow at her. “Queen Roseanne, good afternoon” Rosé looked silently at you, while your eyes looked at the rose she held between her hands. “May I be of service?”

“This rose…” Her voice was insecure, almost trembling, as she extended the rose towards you.

With her sentence incomplete you got closer to her and eyed the rose once you were in front of the Queen. “It looks beautiful, My Queen” You gently took the flowerpot from her hands as you inspected each part of the rose. Meanwhile, Roseanne smiled at you, hope returning to her body as she processed your words. “It looks so healthy Your Majesty, and…” You closed your eyes as you smelled the rose, a smile showing on your lips. “…Smells delightfully” You looked at your Queen, her expression radiating happiness. “Should I put it on the center of the tea table? I’m sure it will add the master touch to your garden, My Queen”

“It’s for you” Roseanne doesn´t know from where that confidence came from, but she didn’t care. To grow this single rose took a lot of space in her mind for months, thinking about its final purpose, to be given to you. “I learnt to take care of a flower from you, so I did, because I wanted to give you one”

You were surprised and your face showed it. You then looked back at the rose as your heart started to beat faster and faster. She grew a rose, just for you, does that mean?

It can’t be…

With your mind full of doubts, only one thing was certain when you looked back at her.

“It’s so beautiful My Queen, thank you”

You fell in love with her.

Lisa

TW: Mentions of massacre and death

“Do you where the Queen is?”

“I saw her entering the practice dance hall”

As you said your thanks, you walked towards the said place, papers in your hand reporting the progress made in the training of the royal guard. It has been a rough time but you could finally see some progress, at least they are showing more discipline, even if they still are too weak compared to how strong they are supposed to be.

Your relationship with Queen Lisa has gotten better too. You’ve tried to not hold grudges towards her because of her taking you off from the action to train a bunc of incompetent soldiers and talk to her as you would normally do with any other person. You didn’t care about crowns, gold, or titles, you didn’t even care if Lisa was a Queen or not, as long as she took care of her kingdom and procure the best for her people, as her obligations are, you will have no complaints about her.

It has, however, been sometimes uncomfortable. Queen Lalisa has opened a little too much towards you, much more than what you expected to, but that was not the uncomfortable part, it was when she asked about your past when it became uncomfortable.

How the previous monarch neglected your village and left everyone you knew as a child to starve on their own, how the guards were retired from their posts and your village was left to defend on their own against bandits, how you managed to escape the fire and fighting leaving behind those who you once loved…

Of course, you never told her anything nor will you blame her for her parents actions, not while she treated you with respect and showed true interest in bringing her kingdom the prosperity it once had.

You sighed before you opened the door to the dance hall where the Queen liked to practice, so lost in your mind that you forgot to knock and ask for permission to enter, an action you regretted.

There she was, not in her normal dress but in one that was a lot lighter, only wearing an off the shoulder white dress that just left her bare feet discovered because of its length, her hair not as fixed and with no make-up on.

You just saw the Queen in a way only her closest servants are allowed to do so as per the previous monarchs' request, the thoughts of you being sent into the dungeon filled your head as you already could see the end of your military career.

When Lalisa looked at you, she actually thought nothing of it, she actually seemed comfortable with looking at her current appearance. “Commander (Y/N), do you need something?”

“I’m so sorry for intruding Your Majesty, I’ll receive any punishment you might think acceptable” You bowed down making Lisa giggle at the ridiculousness of your actions.

“I don’t mind if it’s you Commander (Y/N)” She walked towards you and pulled you fully into the hall, closing the door behind you. “My dancing teacher couldn’t make it today and I was practicing alone, hence my current appearance” She looked at the papers in your hands. “Something to report?”

“Only the routinary documents, Queen Lalisa” Lisa took the documents from your hands and eyed them before carefully laying them on the floor beside her.

“Say, Commander, do know how to dance?” As she asked, Lisa walked to the center of the hall.

“Just the basics, Queen-

“Drop the Queen, just call me Lisa” She extended her hand towards you. “Could you practice with me, (Y/N)?”

You didn’t know what it was, maybe the informality of it all or the privacy you both had in the dancing hall, but you walked towards her and accepted her invitation to dace. As you held her hand, she grabbed your other arm and posed it on her waist for then posing her free hand on your shoulder.

From the first second, she guided the dance and marked the pace you should follow. You wondered how with no music this dance felt so real. Your entire body felt so relaxed, as if all your obligations and expectations went away, yet so tense since you wanted this dance to be perfect.

As you saw at Lisa, how her eyes shone for you and her smile adorned her beautiful features, you made your best to engrave this memory into your brain. With her, you felt as if being a soldier didn’t matter anymore.

[spro-o]

more Furry MD, featuring Cuddy, Wilson and Foreman :3c

[dreampicss]

✧ SET 2 | LISA during the UEFA Champions League 2023/24 at Parc des Princes on November 28, 2023 in Paris, France

{+30 pics UHD 4k & untagged}

4-2 usd per pic | disc0unt for big requests

☆ pm if interested • paypaI onIy

check pinned for s3Iling proofs and infos

[sweeneydino]

He's getting a scolding 😔

Mona, Raph, and little Y'thcorrin from @lieutenantbiscute Shellshocked au <3

I love their Mona sm 😭 She's so pretty