#hello mr heartache

[mermaidinthecity]

I wish that I could say it's nice to see you back again. We're not exactly strangers, but we're not exactly friends. You know you're not invited but you keep on coming around. The last thing that I need is you to kick me when I'm down. So hello, Mr. Heartache, I've been expecting you. Come in and wear your welcome out. The way you always do. You never say if you're here to stay or only passing through. So hello, Mr. Heartache, I've been expecting you. I've been expecting you. I've been expecting you. I've been expecting you.

Hello Mr. Heartache by The Chicks

[sadghostgirl14]

[yestrnight]

how much do I have to pay for svarog sex 😊

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ DILF ROBOT FUCKERZ !

FROM: svarog / afab! reader

SUBJECT: the underground of belobog is a cruel, dark place where it's a competition of the fittest. sweet, little clara is lucky to have svarog as her guardian, but you're even luckier to be able to... heh, get to know him ;)

MESSAGE: nothing to pay but ur dignity babygurl 🥴

( uh me and my doujinshi writing ass at it again; reader is a SL— /svarog counterattack/; overstimulation; robot fucking… duh; svarog is treated as an oversized vibrator cuz that is what he is!!! )

you're not exactly sure when clara pulled you into her little family dynamic with svarog— the svarog, leader of the vagrants, protector of the underworld, and for the longest time, the barrier between upper and lower belobog. sure, you liked telling her the children's stories you've read from natasha's bookshelves, and accompanying her around as her personal bodyguard while she looked through scraps to find supplies for the vagrants.

but you feel like, even as clara tugs you by the sleeve, that stepping foot into the svarog's lair is a biiit too much.

your cold sweat and pale face as the large, rickety gates swing open for clara (and you) says all that needed to be said. your stiff body follows clara as she pulls you inside. "um, clara…" you start, your shaky voice betraying any kind of macho you try to summon. "i don't think this is a good idea… i'm from wildfire, you know? svarog and our relationship is a bit… y'know."

clara's a smart kid. of course she knows. but she looks up at you, as innocent and hopeful as she can be, and pleads with you. "it's okay!" she says. "i've told mr. svarog all about you before! in fact, he's the one who told me to invite you, just so he can properly thank you!"

"h-he did?!" is all you could yelp before she and her traffic light perkins whisked you away to their home.

a few moments later, you're face to face with the big bad robot himself, his lone red eye peering down at you seven foot above. you gulp, clenching onto clara's soft hand for support. "h-hello, sir svarog…" your voice cracks. "nice to meet you…?"

"my data says that meetings between parents and their children's educators are common between human life forms," his deep and rusty voicebank echoes throughout the room. "a parent-teacher conference, they call it."

you shrink further into your uniform. "um… i'm not really her teacher…" your voice is so small even you yourself can barely hear it.

"that is obvious," he states. "according to your data, you lack the qualifications for being a professional educator. nevertheless, you've taught clara a great many things. she is… happy, whenever she talks about you. i hope you continue to spend time with her."

"i told you!" clara leaps up with joy and clings to your arm. her smile is so great that it gives you a literal heartache as it squeezes from how cute she is. "mr. svarog likes you!"

you swear svarog's eye glints, and you double swear his gaze is directed at the red bandanna wrapped around your arm. you'd give him the staredown too, if you were brave enough, that is. after all, what kind of robot needed pants anyway?

that robot needed pants because he needed to hide the luggage he was packing underneath. because if he had that out in the open, you swear any of your cowardice would have evaporated and you'd climb that big hunk of metal like a tree just to get that branch inside of you.

AHEM! what you meant to say was… oh, whatever, no use saving the very little dignity you have left. 

the first time you drool over him is when he protects you from the cold. it was a wildfire expedition gone wrong and you underestimated a rogue robot, and the vagrant camp was so unfriendly without clara around. frostbite made you delirious, so any sort of fear vanished when you yelled through the rusty gates for some sort of savior.

only when the world begins to go dark do you feel a giant metal hand cup your back, and your feet swing in the air. when you finally come to, it's by the crackling fireplace. the world is still blurry when you sit up and see svarog’s hulking body looming over you. in other circumstances, you might have run away as soon as you can, but the near frostbite has made you delirious, and… well, svarog’s looking too sexy for a piece of scrap metal.

“ngh, ah ♡~” svarog’s one metal hand is large enough to encompass your whole lower body. he cups it as gently as a warforged robot can, and he bullies your throbbing clit with his finger while you’re left shaking under him. his red eye glints as he observes your expressions– drooling and eyes rolled back, a happy grin on your face as you rub back against his finger. “m– more~ more please!” his cupped hand bounces you up and down, and you squeal in delight as it heightens the stimulations even further. 

“y– you can vibrate, right?” you gasp when svarog rubs your clit juuust right, and you pleadingly look up at him with tears in your eyes. “th– that makes sense… robots all– ngh! r-right there, please– vibrate, don’t they? jus’ comes with the machines ‘n all that, hehe~”

you’re quite the talkative one, aren’t you? svarog isn’t exactly used to this, given that all the architects and elites he served in the past were so quiet and distant while they used him. “what exactly are you insinuating, [your name]?”

“oh, come on!” you pout frustratedly. “v-vibrate for me, will ya? i need more! this isn’t cutting it for me anymore– a-aaH ♡ yes yesyesyesyesyes! right there, oh my gosh, right there!!”

his data tells him that you’re at the height of ecstasy as he watches you arch your back and kick your feet. your fucked out laughs as you continue to beg for more is the sign that tells him that he’s doing a good job, and putting one and one together, he increases the vibration setting and you devolve into orgasmic screams.

“ah ♡ ah ♡! ahhh ♡♡ wh-what the fuck, svaroggg!!! ♡” the vibration on your poor, swollen clit is too much as he continues to rock you up and down while pressing the vibrating finger down. “i– i never told you to– ahh ♡– increase ittttt!”

“is this not necessary?” svarog questions. he’s so used to cold and unflinching ‘clients’ that he’s not exactly sure what to do with a human as expressive and loud as you. “records tell me that further simulation will bring you to what humans call an ‘orgasm.’”

“i’m, nggh, i’ve already orgasmed, you idiot!” you sob as you flail your legs, squirming and kicking as if that will loosen his grasp on you. “oh, ooooh~ t-too much!”

ah. so this is an orgasm. while this does not fit the algorithmic standards for the measurement of beauty, svarog surmises that this is ‘beautiful’ to him. it’s his reward for a job well-done, as all worthy leaders give to their soldiers. “apologies, [your name], but i fear that my past experiences have not given me sufficient data on what constitutes an ‘orgasm.’ clara adores you very much, and i do not wish to strain you at the expense of her anxiety. so, if you would allow it—”

something pushes at the tip of your hole, and you widen your eyes when you look and discover that he’s slowly bullying his way into you. you grip his metal arms for safety and stare at him with wide eyes.

“if all goes according to plan, you should have nothing to worry about.” you don’t know how to feel comforted when he says it in that apathetic-sounding (yet super hot) voice of his. “human orifices can be trained to take in objects larger than them– i should have you sitting on my… cock, as they call it, at the end of the day.”

[waynewifey]

dear mr. wayne — b.w

part one: dear mr. wayne

part two: aftermath

part three: aporia

epilogue

summary: it’s not easy being a politician’s wife. it’s even harder to love a vigilante. months of negligence make you an easy target to his enemies.

pairing: bruce wayne/battinson x reader

genre: angst romance & dark action

warnings: swearing; smoking; kidnapping; violence; a bit of gore; “you” is she/her; bruce is the worst husband ever btw

word count: 2.8k

A/N: i wrote this back in january 2022 when the batman movie had just premiered, so kinda off the hype here. i hope you enjoy it anyway. already working on part 2, let me know if you guys would like it! also, this has taken a path way darker than i had in mind so i’m sorry if it’s too much. comments are appreciated!

gotham city, USA.

it's late.

you have no clock nearby, but you feel it in your bones. in your muscles too. it's too late and bruce should be home already. laying in the sofa, only half conscious, you regret telling alfred to go to bed. at least you wouldn't be alone. of course, being married to the batman you knew he would patrol at night often. you were okay with it. but lately bruce had been too focused on his other, and recent, goal: running for mayor. at first it seemed out of character, he was never good with the public or the press. but he stared at thomas wayne's painting in the hall in such painful façade, it made sense all off sudden. you were supportive of it. you showed up to every event just to stay by his side, to show the people the lovable man he was. the man you loved. the man who couldn't even be home for dinner.

the penthouse's elevator dings, opening its doors at the end of the hallway you see perfectly from your seat. your head doesn't lift instantly, like in the first week. instead, a long sigh escapes from your lips as bruce reaches the living room.

"hello, darling." he says, still in motion as he walks the stairway up to the room you shared. not a single kiss, or a hug. you follow him, because what else is there to do? you need to go to bed anyway. by the time you get there, slowly, his suit is already on the floor and he's taking a shower.

"how was the meeting?" you ask, knowing he usually did his Wayne Enterprising meetings — which consisted of hanging out long hours in bars with business men — at night. recently, he started a complicated relationship with a real estate company he wanted to invest in.

"the usual." he stopped fully answering these questions three weeks ago, making the only time you ever talked even shorter. the city has gotten more violent than ever since his batman duties were put on standby.

"any closer to sealing the deal?" you sit on the bed, watching the open bathroom door.

"probably." it's not like he's being rude. well, maybe a little bit. he just doesn't want to talk any more, it's clear on his tone. but it's 2am and you brain isn't working too well.

"when is this gonna end, bruce?" you finally say, as he puts his boxers on. "when are we ever having dinner again? or going on a date? when are you gonna stop treating me like i'm some sort of home decor?" you almost vomit out the words that have been stuck on your throat for days. surprisingly, the heartache doesn't softens. instead, it gets worse. it's like admitting your abandonment.

six months ago, you started trying to get pregnant. it hadn't always been a dream of yours, but the idea of having an heir to all you've spent your life building is charming. you realised you were in the right time to do so, you had just turned 28, bruce was 32, and both had stable careers. a month later, bruce announced his candidacy. and so soon you gave up. you told yourself once he won the election everything would be fine. you would try again. but, realistically, being a mayor was already a lot of work on itself. he wouldn't want a pregnant wife or a child to take care of. after the four years, who knows? he might as well have a new life project. and your family would always stand on the side.

"i don't know what you're talking about..." he doesn't look into your eyes. hell, he barely looks at you. that feeling, the negligence, is enough to trigger the tears. you take a deep breath, making an effort to look composed.

"don't you, though?" your voice is shaken. look at me. look at me. look at me. look at me. he doesn't. "bruce." you call, finally getting his attention. however, the boredom on his face knocks you off your feet, legs trembling in pain and anger. "i just want you to make an effort on us..."

"really? cause that's all i ever done." he's leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed in a way you would find attractive in other circumstances. but now he's yelling and you fight back the urge to shrink into the mattress. "do you think i wanna have a kid on this fucked up town? i'm tryna fix this. fix everything!" his faces turns red-ish. something inside of you makes you want to leave the room. you've always been an avoider, that is one of the reasons you hadn't really had couple fights. so, basically, this is very new. "i've got the weight of the fucking world on my back."

"let's leave then" you manage to say, replacing the you chose this. it was true, however, that he was the one to put himself in this position. bruce wayne could've gotten his entire life without working if he wanted to. but he always needed to save everyone, to suffer for other's happiness. he was a giver. sometimes you wondered if he needed to be saved instead.

"you know i can't do that." he mumbles, in a defeated tone. a sigh escapes from his lips, suddenly the tiredness takes over his face. it's almost enough to make you let it go, to internalise your distress again. he really can't, you know that. he feels that the city is his liability, because it was the only thing he had since he became an orphan. but he had you, too. he just didn't acknowledge that.

"and i can't stay like this." it sounds like an whisper, but it's a plead. choose me. please. he seems to read it in your eyes, face contorting in agony when he realises what you're asking for. me or gotham? it's stupid to think he would ever choose you. but you hoped, so desperately, because you would choose him. always.

"let's not do this tonight, okay? i have to be in the office by the morning." tears instantly fall as he turns off the lights and lays on the bed, turning his back to where you slept. for a moment, you're static. his words were final. were you ever in control of something in your life? why were all of these decisions being made for you? mechanically, you stand on both feet and walk to the door. you don't even notice your movement until you're on the elevator. your husband didn't intervene either. this neighbourhood is one of the safest in town, which honestly isn't much but you had to get out. anyway, nowhere is totally safe at 3am.

you walk two blocks, clinging to the fluffy sweater you wore. the depressing air of gotham slows your pace, to a point you start wondering if it was really necessary to be aware. you could feel the city devouring you, starting with your hope. the blue 24h sign lights up the street, in a way that isn't welcoming, but you know the place well enough to not be scared to get in. a bell sounds over the door and wakes up the male behind the counter. he's got long black hair and seems to haven't seen a good night of sleep in weeks. same,you think.

"hi. can i get the blue one?" you point at the camel's behind the man. he nods, quickly putting a pack on the wooden board. the prices pops up on the cashier's display. you pay and go outside. smoking was an bad habit from your college days, when pressure got too excruciating. every now and then you would treat yourself to some cigarettes, for the confidence it gave you. the sense of control to be the one, for once, ruining yourself. the smoke burns your throat on the first inhale and you hold back a cough. you're too entertained by the cigar to notice the black van approaching. it stops right in front of you, and everything happens too quickly for your brain to process. it's all dark.

he's in a meeting, the boring kind.

the kind that has him seated in silence while a representative talks to his employees, who never get to listen to their actual boss. there's a chart being shown on a large tv on the other side of the room. he's not listening, though. he's writing down ideas for a thanksgiving speech. a head pops into the conference room.

"mr. wayne." it's one of the new assistants, hired especially for the election season. he didn't care to memorise her name, because temps usually don't last long. if she hadn't called him, he might've not even looked up. but the room is silent, expecting eyes on him. the girl at the door looks terrified. "you're urgently required outside, please."

he sighs as he gets up from his leather chair. the second the door closed behind him, chatter is heard again. in the corridor, the woman conducts him to his office and they get in. there's a bit of a commotion, four men lounge around his table, all their faces tense.

"mr. wayne, i'm afraid we don't have good news." the head of the marketing team speaks, a man called robert vance. he's probably said the same phrase to bruce about seven times this month, so that doesn't do much. the assistant approaches with an ipad, unpausing a video. "we received this from an anonymous email about forty minutes ago. we weren't able to get the ip address just yet."

the video starts with a black screen, zooming out to show a woman with a bag over her head. she has her hands on her back and is kneeling on the ground. bruce's heart skips a beat noticing the hair falling down her shoulders.

"bruce wayne..." an eerie voice whispers from behind the camera, breathing heavily. "i've robbed an egg from your basket, and you haven't even noticed!" there's a disturbing chuckle and the video shakes a bit. bruce doesn't move, eyes stuck on the screen. no one in the room has done anything other than breathing. someone gulps. "it's been long hours, but we're having fun, aren't we, darling?" a gloved hand reaches for the bag, pulling it out. her face - your face - is dripping blood. you're biting on a fabric, still in your home clothes. bruce's jaw clenches. you're crying, face beaten, in this degrading situation. your eyes pierce the screen right into his. suddenly, a gun is tapped on your forehead and you close your eyes into a sob. your lips mouth please. "i'm running out of patience here, you're running out of time. let's do business, shall we?" he laughs, knocking the pistol on the side of your head, making you fall laying on the floor, unconscious. the spot bleeds. "here's my proposal: you come clean about your father's deal with carmine falcone and maybe i don't shoot little mrs. wayne... or i do both. it's your choice, really. the clock is ticking. tick tock, wayne."

the video stops, the sight of a gun pointed at your unresponsive body burns into his mind. bruce is panting, the adrenaline rushes into his brain. there's a million of plans being built, but none of them seem viable.

"don't let media get this." he managed to say. one of the men in suits says it's too late. the tv flicks on showing a news report on the video. he kicks the side of his table, the contents being thrown across the room. "FUCK! you bastards wait forty fucking minutes to show me this?" he screams, no one can look him in the eyes. a hand runs through his black hair. "meanwhile my wife is out there with a gun on her head! and what have you done? i swear to god, if i don't find her alive and well i'm killing everyone in this goddamned room with my bare hands."

he storms out of there, reaching to his phone to call alfred and noticing the multiple missed calls. fucking silent mode. the sun is setting.

"i got the address." the butler says, instead of hello. a 'ding' sounds in his ear.

there has been pain for so long. you try to remember before the pain. but all is pain. he has to make it stop.

the floor is cold cement and you feel so small in this huge warehouse. the man in the mask knows you can't run. not only you're tied up, but the will had left you long before getting dragged into that van. he sees it in your eyes. so he strolls around, always in that ridiculous dark green overall. then he beats you up for fun. no cameras. just you and the devil himself. you find yourself praying, after all these years. you don't pray to get out, no. you pray so that it ends soon. you pray that the stab wound in your abdomen will get you an infection. you pray that when you close your eyes, you never have to open them again. but the divine has left you in the cold cement.

there's an explosion. your eyes open. there's smoke and dust taking over one of the walls. you're seeing everything horizontally, cheek on the floor. the man in green is just as scared as you were.

bruce wayne busted that fucking wall down. he expected a full team of psychopaths and maybe some more security. there was just one coward in the warehouse. the thing stares at him coming out of the smoke, fingers fidgeting. the batman steps forward. the freak steps back. then turns around, runs to a half broken wardrobe and grabs a gun from it. bruce walks slowly. there's a struggle loading the gun. he takes the opportunity to run and throw the thing on the floor. he bangs his head on it. the vermin screams. he takes one punch. two. tries to reach for the fallen gun. bruce steps on his hand and the loud crack echoes in the room. he screams again. three punches. the mask is taken off. his nose is bleeding. more punches. he holds the neck. the head is turning purple. oh how he wants to kill this little shit. bruce wayne will kill him. it will just take a few more seconds...

"baby, no" at first he thinks he's imagining it. it's so soft, so weak. but he looks up and there she is. his hands loose. right on the corner, chains on her legs. her face is ruined from blood and dirt. her wrists bleed too. the motherfucker chained her. hell is too good for this thing.

bang. on his shoulder. he looks down and the blood is dripping on the freak's face. he’s pushed to the side, holding the wound. tiny white dots obstruct his vision. he grunts through the pain. the man gets up and runs towards you. bruce can’t move. he arches his back, trying to roll and lay on his chest. it feels like he can’t move his arm anymore, like his bones had detached. when he finally does so, the man is escaping through a window. his hand searches for the adrenaline-boost in his belt, grabs it and quickly injects on his leg. it takes a second to get his blood rushing again. he crawls up and jumps through the window, which leads him to a metal balcony.

you’re almost standing, but he holds your chains and a gun to your face. the shooting sound had scared you awake. you can’t believe how close to bruce you finally are, but the conditions couldn’t be worse. you can hear water running below your feet, you don’t need daylight to show you the violent river you’re standing above. this is not good.

bruce has his hands up in the air and is holding himself back to not do anything stupid. the man’s face is contorting into the creepiest smile. no.

everything happens so slowly, yet he’s not quick enough to grab you in time. you’re falling in the air and he jumped after you. for a moment, the world is air. you can’t hold out your hand. your hair is flying in your face, he does not want to die without seeing you one last time. his cape holds him back and the distance between you only increases. you’re gone. the impact comes.

part two

[liillyliilly]

Strawberry Blond

hinata shouyou x reader words; 2155 synopsis; he's got a crush on that older girl at school- she has to go on a roadtrip with his family. what will a few hours in a car do for them?

The car pushed forward along the road. She looked out of her window to stare at all the passing scenery, eyeing the mountains and eyes gazing at the clouds floating above. The fields of flowers painted a picture of heartache and blushing faces. Willow trees with their branches holding the long tiers of leaves cascading down like waterfalls.

With all the beauty to admire and things to explore using his imagination, Hinata Shouyou was only looking at her.

The Hinata family planned to visit some relatives farther out in the country. She was only there because her father, a business associate of Hinata's dad, needed someone to take her somewhere close to the relatives they had already planned to visit. Naturally, bringing her along for the seven-hour drive seemed like the most effective method of transport.

But for Hinata, the drive became more about the fact that he would be stuck in a cramped space with his crush for a long time instead of visiting cousins.

The reason for his crush? He doesn’t know.

(keep my eyes on the road)

There wasn’t much that interested Hinata outside of volleyball, but the things that did interest him included gaming with Kenma, trying to be better than Kageyama at everything, spending time with his family, and getting to know the ever-elusive girl better. Hinata knew her from school, mainly because she often hung around Asahi.

When Hinata asked if the two were dating, Asahi and her immediately put his assumption to rest.

As it turned out, she was helping Asahi to improve his interpersonal skills, seeing as she was a member of the student council and her job was student satisfaction. Asahi had come to her asking for ways to seem more approachable, thus meaning she was spending time with him, and not in fact that they were dating.

This was a deal of relief to Hinata. But even after Asahi had improved his people skills, she still stuck around.

Hinata still remembers the first one-on-one conversation he had with her vividly. He had caught her packing up her bag from her last session with Asahi, she had moved her schedule around so that they could talk in the gym before volleyball practice.

“Hello! I’m Hinata, Asahi’s protege of sorts. Nice to meet you, L/N. ” Hinata gave a quick bow before standing straight up again.

“Same to you Hinata-kun.”

“I’m not that much younger than you,” Hinata muttered. There was only a year difference between them, seeing as she was a second year, and Hinata a first year.

“Oh, do you not want me to use –kun then?” She furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head.

He froze up for a minute. Before blurting out a response. “Call me Shoyou. It's my first name.” She smiled and laughed a bit before politely covering her mouth.

“If I plan on calling you Shoyou, then you can call me by my first name too?” She stretched out her hand and Hinata shook it with both of his. Feeling a short jolt move from his hands up to his ears which were slowly beginning to tinge red.

A girl called out to her from the gym entrance, and she nodded. “Well, Shoyou, I got to go, but we can talk later?”

Hinata shook his head up and down so rapidly that Kageyema yelled at him, “Idiot! You’re going to shake all your brain cells out!”

Hinata let out a deep sigh before putting a hand to his heart and letting his eyes glaze over slightly from his daydreams of all the possible conversations he would have with her.

(reach out the car window trying to hold the wind)

“L/N, would you like it if we rolled down the windows? Shoyou radiates so much warmth that it gets hot in the car.” Mrs. Hinata laughed slightly while turning around to face the three children sitting in the back of the car from the passenger's seat.

Hinata exclaimed, holding his hands out to emphasize his embarrassment.

“That’s fine with me.”

Natsu looked from her brother to the girl on the other side of her. She put two and two together and planned something out. Hinata wasn’t exactly discreet when it came to stealing glances in the girl’s direction.

“Mom! I wanna sit in the window seat now!” Natsu complained.

Deceptively, Natsu began to calculate. Hinata started to bounce his knee in his seat, his arm resting on the car door, supporting his head.

“Okay, can you guys move around without us having to pull over then?” Natsu nods before unbuckling both her and the second-year’s seatbelts. “Natsu, I didn’t mean you and L/N switch, you should switch with Sho.” His mom commented.

“Oh, honestly, it isn’t a problem for me to sit in the middle ma’am.” She put up a hand and slid over to the middle seat. But since it was a tight squeeze Hinata and her ended up having their sides pressed up close together, their thighs and the length of their sides completely touching.

“Is this okay Shoyou?” She asked as she pulled her seatbelt across her body.

Natsu sat happily looking out the window and moving her hand up and down trying to mimic a superhero with her hand’s movements.

“It’s great.” He swallowed thickly, quickly turning his head to look out the window.

Eventually, Hinata’s mom rolled down the windows with the touch of a button and Hinata felt cold air nipping at his nose. Sticking his head out the window, the air wiggled its way through Hinata’s locks. When he pulled his head back into the car his hair was sticking out in all directions.

She just couldn’t resist and ran a hand through his hair, before stopping and retracting her hand back.

“I'm sorry.” She squeaked.

Hinata didn’t have many words to say since he was still paralyzed from the feeling of her warm hand against his chilly scalp. So, he just took her hand and put it on top of his head again.

“I liked it. You can keep doing that if you want.” She started running her hand through his hair again. The hair curled around her hand and tickled in between her fingers. Hinata felt a soft hum begin to bubble in his throat. His satisfaction made her giggle slightly at his reaction.

The seven hours spent in that car ride weren’t as bad as Hinata had predicted.

(i love it when you look my way)

Two hours had passed, and Natsu was asleep.

“I think it’s time for a pit stop.” Hinata’s dad brought the car to the side of the long winding road.

Hinata’s parents sipped some tea from a shared thermos, his mom rubbing his dad’s back.

Hinata was searching through the trunk, pushing suitcases to the side. He finally found what he was looking for.

He tossed the volleyball lightly in her direction. She was kicking up dirt and drinking water from her sticker-covered bottle. It fell and rolled around until it bumped into her foot.

“Want to play?” He jogged over to her.

“I didn’t join a sports club, I joined an academic club for a reason.” But, she set her bottle down next to the car and picked up the volleyball.

“I can teach you. When I first started playing, I had to beg people to join in. My third year middle school club included a soccer player, a basketball player, me, and some first years.”

She frowns, “I’m sorry, that sounds like a tough situation.”

After going through some basics, they could hold a decent rally. After she failed to receive it once again, she groaned in frustration. Without thinking, Hinata moved behind her, holding her arms up, and guiding them to a proper receive position. He still hadn’t mastered receiving yet, but he could manage for the most part.

“Like this.”

She smelt like strawberry and vanilla. And he was close enough to feel the way her skin pricked up.

She shuffled away, and tossed the ball back to him, cutting the moment off too quickly for Hinata’s liking. Her heart was beating too fast for her liking.

Six hours into the car ride, the sun slowly setting over the hill. Hinata’s mom swapped with his dad, and she decided to drive the rest of the duration to the destination. Natsu was snoring peacefully, with her chair leaned back. She was drooling on the nice leather of the car.

Hinata’s dad was also asleep, matching Natsu’s snoring and drooling. His mom had earbuds in, listening to her serial killer podcast, humming happily.

“So, student government. What’s that like?” Hinata wanted to know everything about her.

“Well, my experience, or the general experience.”

He could care less about any of the other kids in student government.

“Yours.”

“It’s not what I expected, that’s for sure. Instead of solving issues at the school, it feels more like an elite societal clique. Helping Asahi was the only impactful thing I’ve accomplished this year. These kids in student government, they’re just so disconnected from reality. You know Ito Yuuta, yeah? He’s going to essentially inherit half the buildings in Miyagi, there’s no reason for him to be in student government, he even says there’s no reason for student government.”

She pauses, then continues with her deeper musing.

“It’s a sad thing when you go into something with high expectations, and then there’s no reason to be invested in it.”

“But you still work hard?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Just because others show apathy for an organization doesn’t mean I have to. I can’t do it all, but I can do enough. Scrambling to be involved in our school has been the biggest challenge, but I love people. Genuinely, people can be so amazing. I just want to foster community at Karasuno.”

Hinata thinks back on his own experiences. He knows the apathetic approach others give, and how it disheartens even the most motivated. But what else can a person do besides keep working?

“I’m embarrassed.” He admits. “I want to kiss you right now.”

She chuckles, “You’ll need to wait a few years before I consider that. Nothing against you, of course.”

“No, no, I understand. You’ll wait for me though? Right?”

“Wait for you?”

“Just at least give me a chance in the future. I can grow a few more centimeters, I promise.”

Nodding her head, she wraps her pinkie finger around his. Moving their connected hands up and down three times exactly.

“I promise to give you a chance in exactly three years.”

He could wait.

(keep my eyes on the road as i ache)

The rest of Hinata’s first year wasn’t bad. Karasuno’s Boy’s volleyball team made it to the Nationals. She came to watch the games, making the rest of the student government put up posters to celebrate their accomplishments.

The second year was rougher than the first. She transferred to a school in Tokyo. He went to her going away party. He couldn’t attend her graduation, but he wrote a lengthy note to her. Tsukishima did not enjoy proofreading everything Hinata had written.

He wrote about his dreams, his goals, and how he thought about her more often than not. The note was littered with spelling errors, that Tsukishima had to fix, but by the fifth draft it was the perfect love letter.

His third year was the best year by far, only after it had officially ended. With his graduation scroll in hand, he waited at the centralmost Miyagi shrine. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he fluffed his hair, patted it back down, and then recycled the motions.

She had changed. In all the right ways.

“Me first.” He showed her his diploma, she appraised it.

“Definitely real.”

He shoved his driver’s license into her hand as well.

“Legally eighteen years old now.” She evaluated the ID card.

“Also definitely real.”

They sat on a bench, and Hinata told her about Brazil. She told him about Korea.

“An international cooperation organization? You’re lying.”

“I would never.”

He knew she would never lie about something like that. Something where she would most definitely have an actual impact, an actual community-building opportunity.

He slid his hand into hers, using his thumb to rub the back of her hand. He brought it up to his lips, and he kissed her knuckles. She just smiled in response.

The thing she did next almost made him faint. She turned her body and faced him. He was leaning slightly forward, so she had to duck a little, but she aimed right on target. Giving him a short but genuine kiss.

(look at you strawberry blond)

It was the summer of 2021 when they met again.

He was twenty-five. She was twenty-six and a half.

Right before the Olympics, she agreed to one more road trip with him.

She ended up going on many more.

[lostfirefly]

*this sketch is kinda sad.. warning: tears, description of a dead body*

"Who was Miss Mitchell to you, Mr. the Clown?"

"What? Oh. We lived together." Buggy stood in front of the officer, struggling to choose his words. "Please, can you escort me to her?"

"Just a couple more questions..."

"Just walk me to her." Buggy bellowed. "I want to see her."

"Okay. You go that way." The officer pointed to a gray door with his hand.

Buggy walked into a large, dimly lit room, his heart pounding in his chest. The sterile scent of antiseptics hung thick in the air, mingling with an oppressive silence that clung to his skin. His breath hitched when he spotted Catherine lying on a gurney, her form eerily still beneath the stark white sheets. With every hesitant step, his legs felt like jelly, unsteady and uncertain as he approached her.

"Hello, cotton candy," Buggy whispered, his voice trembling as he reached out to take her cold, softly blue hand in his. The chill of her skin sent a shock of dread through him.

"Are you okay?" he pleaded, scanning her lifeless body, desperately seeking any sign of life.

As Buggy knelt beside her, the weight of his sorrow crashed down like a wave, and he pressed his head to her chest, hoping for the faint sound of a heartbeat. "Please, baby, open your eyes. You promised me that we would always be together," he murmured, each word heavy with a mix of love and despair. "You promised."

Tears streamed down his cheeks, washing away the vibrant clown makeup he wore, leaving only the raw, unfiltered anguish of his pain. "Open your eyes, please. Get up! Let’s go home, please?"

The desperation laced in his words grew sharper as he squeezed her hand tighter, a plea that echoed through the empty room.

"You can’t leave me alone. Are you a liar like Shanks? And all the others?!" Buggy's voice cracked, a sob threatening to escape as he fought against the overwhelming flood of emotion.

"You little shit, open your eyes!!" The sharpness of his bark contrasted with the tenderness that followed. "I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I won’t yell anymore. I promise! I'll be the most attentive boyfriend. That's why you left me, right? I will change! I promise! Try to believe me! Please, let’s go home."

The image of their shared meals, of laughter and the scent of pasta with sausages, danced in Buggy's mind—a brief glow illuminating the darkness that surrounded him now. "I’ll make you your favorite pasta when we come back home. I'll make it for you, just like you like it." Buggy pressed his forehead against her still body, begging the universe to return her to him, desperate for just one more chance to hold her close and remind her of the life they built together, a life he was unwilling to let slip away into the void.

Tears were streaming down his cheeks, their warm trails a testament to his heartache, when Buggy felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Leave me alone!” he barked, desperate to shroud himself in sadness.

“Hello, my Buggy Bear!” a familiar voice cut through his anguish.

Catherine stood behind him, her bright smile contrasting sharply with the somber atmosphere.

“Cotton candy?” Buggy’s voice cracked as he sniffled, swiping at his tear-streaked face. The gurney next to him reminded him of the finality that loomed over their moment. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his heart racing at the sight of her. "Did you come to tell us that we are going home?"

“No, you'll come home. I came to say goodbye to you,” she replied softly, her expression a mix of sorrow and warmth. “I’m sorry, my blue-haired love; I guess I can’t keep my promise.” Catherine knelt beside him, her presence a balm to his wounded spirit.

“You can’t do this to me! What will I do without you?” Buggy stared at her with wet eyes. “Did you leave me because I’m disgusting? Because I didn’t pay attention to you?” His voice was laced with desperation, the tears returning as he said this question.

“Of course no, my silly clown,” Catherine caressed his cheek, her touch igniting a spark of hope amidst his despair. “I was so happy with you. You’re wonderful. You’re the love of my life, Buggy the Clown.” Her words wrapped around him like a warm embrace, momentarily easing the pain. "Can I ask you something?” she continued, searching his eyes.

“Don’t go, please,” Buggy pleaded, his hand squeezing Catherine's in a desperate bid to hold onto the moment.

“I have to go,” she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute. “But can I drop by sometimes, okay? I want to be sure that you're okay.”

The thought lingered heavy in the air—an unspoken promise that though distances may separate them, the love they shared would endure, flickering like a candle in the darkness.

Buggy nodded.

"Everything will be okay. You will be okay, my love. It's a pity we didn't have time to talk one last time. I love you so, so much!" Catherine kissed his forehead. "But everything will be fine soon. You'll wake up one morning and everything will be fine. Just wake up. Wake up, okay? Buggy..."

"What?"

"Wake up, Buggy!" Catherine nudged him in the shoulder. "Wake up!!"

Buggy opened his eyes with difficulty and heard his phone vibrating. "What the hell?" He looked around the room and looked at the phone again.

"Cotton Candy" was displayed on the screen. Buggy's heart sank, but he quickly picked up the phone.

"Hello, my little bear!!" Catherine was waving at him through the video link.

"Cotton Candy? Are you alive?" Buggy rounded his eyes.

"Are you on drugs, Buggy?" Catherine's eyes widened. "What could have happened to me?"

"Where are you?" Buggy shook his head, trying to come to his senses.

"At home, in Loguetown. I've called you a few times already. You didn't pick up the phone and I was starting to worry."

"You said you'd text me when you landed!" Buggy was indignant.

"Yeah! Sorry! I forgot my power bank at home. I must have left it on the shelf. I was listening to music the whole way and my phone died. I got to my parents' house and ran out to buy a new one. I spent some of our money."

"Fuck the money. Are you okay?"

"Yes! I'm home with Jules." Catherine peered at the screen of her phone and saw Buggy's face, red from crying. "What's wrong? Have you been crying?"

"I don't know. I must have had a bad dream."

"What happened, little bear?" Catherine asked with worry.

"I don't know." Buggy rubbed his face with his hand. "Plane crash. You died and then you came to me as a fucking ghost."

"Oh, my God!! Buggy... That's terrible!! Are you okay? My blue-haired love! Should I come back?"

"Catherine, sis! I bought three bottles of wine and two pizzas have already arrived."

"Jules, get out of here." Catherine hissed through the teeth.

"Who's there?" Buggy asked, frowning.

"Hello, my sister's kidnapper!" Jules leaned into the camera and waved. "Oh, my God! What were you crying about? No, I know it's very emotional to be far away from my sister, but crying? Seriously, clown?"

"Jules, get out of here!" Catherine pushed her indignant sister out of the bedroom. "I'm so sorry. So... should I go back?"

"What? No! I'm fine. But I've given your sister another reason to laugh at me." Buggy grinned.

"I won't let her laugh at things like that! Please, Buggy, don't worry. I'm fine and I'll be back to you soon. You know what I want? Your mac with sausages. Will you make me some macaroni and sausage?" Catherine grinned at the camera.

"Okay." Buggy nodded.

"And buy me a chocolate cake from that place run by a bunny, please."

"Okay." He tried to smile.

"Buggy..."

"What?"

"Was I a pretty ghost?"

"The most pretty ghost in the world!"

"It's just a dream. I'm sure we have many years ahead of us. Do you want to talk some more?"

"No. I'm fine."

"Okay then. I'll go talk to my sister. And I'll call you later, okay? Be sure to text me!"

"Ok."

"Buggy..."

"What?"

"L-word?"

"L-word." Buggy nodded.

Catherine gave him a few air kisses and hung up.

"Fuck, fucking dream!" Buggy got up from the couch and went to warm up some more pancakes.

[ladykagewaki]

WIP: I Am Mrs Hemlock

I dabble in writing now and then, and the Bad Batch finale inspired me to think about the other people in Hemlock's life. I can't seem to finish this fic, but here's a little bit of it below the cut.

@zaya-mo @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @ladykatakuri @marierg @thecoffeelorian @salubriousbean

Childhood

Ereene stood on the stoop of the Hemlocks house and knocked on the door. She couldn't quite reach the doorbell. She waited patiently until the inner door opened, and Mrs Hemlock looked down and smiled at her.

The young girl with white ribbons tied around her light brown pigtails said "Hello Mrs Hemlock. I have the homework for this week. I hope Royce is feeling better!"

Royce's mother smiled and said "Thank you, Ereene. He gets stronger every day." Royce's mother took the school datapad and said "I hope you and your family are well?"

"Oh yes. Both mother and father are back from the Core and Tam is back from his school. We're going to have a family dinner today!"

A sick little boy with dark hair, ghostly blue eyes, and an anemic complexion lay in an oversized bed upstairs in his home. He wanted to read, but could hardly keep his eyes open. Then he heard a knock on the door downstairs and perked right up! He flung his blankets aside and slide out of the high bed. Once his two bare feet hit the ground his head began to spin. He took a few wobbly steps in his bedroom toward the door then fell on the wooden floor. Royce got to his knees and crawled through the door.

The noise of the boy falling on the floor caught his mother's attention "Oh!" She looked behind her and saw her sons head poke around the corner at the head of the grand staircase.

Royce saw Ereene and disappointed it wasn't one of his friends sighed. He saw her smile and wave, and found he couldn't help but return the gesture.

His mother, the loving and caring woman she was, saw the waving and instead of chastising her son smiled sadly. He was lonely and this was the only interaction with kids outside his brothers she could think of in weeks. Mrs Hemlock thanked Ereene and sent the girl on her way.

Royce watched his mother, hair and makeup done, and dressed in one of her favorite printed house tunics start up the stairs. She held up the datapad and said "Maybe this will entertain you?"

He took the datapad, leaned back on the Bannister in his pajamas and skimmed the assignments while she took a seat on the steps next to him "Hardly" he answered sullenly.

With a mix of pride and heartache she said "Well, maybe it's better that these assignments aren't too challenging. The doctor did say getting over such a poisoning will just take time." She stroked his thick black hair cherishing her eldest son. She had suffered through the loss of her first infant and had trouble conceiving for years until Royce arrived. He was later joined by two younger brothers, but Royce was the family's golden child. All the children were well cared for and doted upon.

"Thanks mother. Will father be home for dinner today?"

"Unfortunately no. His work at the factory will keep him late. The business is expanding and he is negotiating with some Republic officials. He told me this could really help expand the business!"

The boy sighed but did not make a fuss. His mother helped him back to his room and into bed. She sat with him and chatted until the nanny droids commed her about the baby and toddler they were minding elsewhere.

Ereene joined her governess droid on the sidewalk and it escorted her to the transport waiting for her. Ereene liked this neighborhood and noted the big tree lined street and decorative wrought iron gated homes. Her mother had said this neighborhood was *af-flu-ent* but very *new credit.* The little girl didn't understand what that meant, but she knew her diplomat parents thought it was bad. She thought the neighborhood was very nice. The gardens in front of the large red stone houses were tended by droids and Ereene happily skipped along in her frilly dress into the transport.

Teen Years

"Oh my stars, he's graduating with us?" whispered Ereene to the young lady next to her. "I figured with all his illness he would've been behind a year at least!" Rows upon rows of human students sat in alphabetical order costumed in the ceremonial graduation garb on the manicured lawn of their esteemed academy. Their guests and family members sat beyond them to observe and celebrate the day.

The young woman whispered "Royce Hemlock? Are you kidding? I think he was faking because school was boring. School was no challenge for him, even missing all that time."

A girl behind them overheard and leaned forward contributing "I don't think he was faking. I heard his father is grooming his younger brother to take over the family business because he was so sickly!"

"What's he doing up on the stage?" Asked Ereene. Hemlock's face was neutral, revealing none of his thoughts about this momentous day. He wore the distinctive tasselled cap and a billowy robe of black with a green and gold sash indicating his status and role. He was gazing at the crowd with his hands resting on his knees. His father had an unfortunate accident at the factory forcing his mother to step in as head. Despite the loss of his father his mother was there with his two brothers. Once he spotted them in the crowd he gave them a subtle nod.

The girl behind Ereene scoffed and said "He's our valedictorian. I hear he has full scholarship to some science university..."

As the two other girls gossiped with each other Ereene accidentally made eye contact with Royce. They both recognized each other and a small smile curved his lips. With a slight cock of his head he subtly lifted his hand from his knee to give her a tiny wave. It caused a broad smile to break out on her face and she gave a small wave back.

After the graduation ceremony the students wandered the lawn searching for their family members. Ereene heard her name as she searched the crowd for her parents and brother. "Ereene, is it?" The voice was soft spoken, but held a charismatic power. She turned towards the voice and saw Royce approaching her, hands folded behind his back.

She suddenly felt a bit dizzy. "Um, yes! Hi, eh, Royce! Congratulations! I, uh, I had no idea you..." She gestured to the stage upon which he had given an eloquent adress speech.

He said "I credit it all to your help"

They both chuckled and she replied "Well, dropping off your homework once may have tipped the scales, but I can't take ALL the credit.

They both allowed themselves to laugh unabashedly but did not break their eye contact. They were connected. His gaze on her was deep, but not unpleasantly intense. They gazed in each other's eyes silently for a few long moments. The din of cheers and the giddy cries of happiness around them faded away. Hemlock's soft voice carried over all of it into her ears "Perhaps later this week we could meet for caf?"

And they did.

[sturniolocoded]

Mr. Perfectly Fine - 🧡 Chris Sturniolo

Y/n sat alone in her dimly lit apartment, surrounded by the remnants of a relationship that once promised forever. She stared at her phone, the lyrics of Chris Sturniolo's song echoing in her mind, each word a painful reminder of what she had lost.

Mr. "Perfect face," she thought bitterly, her heart heavy with regret. She had believed in him, in them, with every fiber of her being. He was supposed to be her forever, her rock in a world of uncertainty. But Mr. "Change of heart" had shattered her dreams with a callousness that still haunted her.

She traced the familiar features of his face in her memory - the brown hair, the piercing blue eyes that had once held so much warmth and promise. But now, they were just another source of pain, a reminder of what could have been.

Y/n picked up her guitar, her fingers moving almost instinctively over the strings as she poured her heart out in song. Each chord resonated with the raw emotion she had been holding back since their breakup, the melody a cathartic release for her pent-up feelings.

"Hello Mr. 'Perfectly fine'," she sang softly, her voice tinged with sadness. "How's your heart after breaking mine?"

As the music swelled around her, Y/n allowed herself to feel the full weight of her grief. She had been Miss "Misery" since his goodbye, lost in a sea of heartache and regret. But she refused to let him see her crumble, refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had broken her.

"So dignified in your well-pressed suit," she continued, her voice rising with newfound strength. "So strategized, all the eyes on you."

Y/n sang with a fierceness that surprised even herself, her voice ringing out clear and strong against the silence of her empty apartment. She was no longer Miss "Here to stay," no longer bound by the chains of a love that had turned to ashes in her hands.

As the final chords faded into the air, Y/n felt a sense of closure wash over her. She may have been Miss "Misery" for the last time, but she was also Miss "Gonna be alright someday." And someday, she knew, she would find someone who deserved her love, someone who would never go away.

With a bittersweet smile, Y/n set her guitar aside and wiped away the tears that had begun to fall. She may have lost Mr. "Perfectly fine," but she had found herself in the process. And that, she realized, was worth more than any fleeting love could ever be.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Y/n threw herself into her music, pouring her heart and soul into every lyric, every melody. She found solace in the rhythm of her guitar, the warmth of the spotlight on stage.

But no matter how far she traveled, no matter how many stages she graced with her presence, she couldn't shake the memory of him. His face haunted her dreams, his voice echoed in the silence of her lonely nights.

Then, one day, as she sat alone in her dressing room, a knock sounded at the door. Y/n frowned, wondering who could possibly be seeking her out in the midst of her busy schedule. She rose from her seat and crossed the room, her heart pounding in anticipation.

When she opened the door, she found herself face to face with none other than Chris Sturniolo himself. She blinked in surprise, her mind struggling to process the sight before her.

"Hi," he said, his voice hesitant. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Y/n shook her head, her voice catching in her throat. "No, not at all. What…what can I do for you?"

Chris shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flickering to the ground. "I heard your song," he said quietly. "The one you wrote after…after everything."

Y/n felt her heart skip a beat, her breath catching in her chest. She had never expected Chris to seek her out, to acknowledge the pain she had poured into her music.

"I just wanted to say," Chris continued, his voice growing stronger with each word, "that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I put you through, for the way I hurt you."

Y/n stared at him in disbelief, her mind reeling with the weight of his words. She had spent so long trying to move on, to forget the pain he had caused her. And now, here he was, standing before her with his heart on his sleeve.

"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness," Chris said, his voice trembling with emotion. "But I wanted you to know that I've changed. I'm not the same person I was back then."

Y/n searched his eyes, seeing the sincerity shining through the pain and regret. And in that moment, she knew that she had a choice to make. She could hold onto her anger, her resentment, and let it consume her from the inside out. Or she could take a leap of faith, and open her heart to the possibility of forgiveness.

With a shaky breath, Y/n stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Chris, holding him close as tears pricked at her eyes. "I forgive you," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

And as they stood there, locked in each other's embrace, Y/n felt the weight of the past lift from her shoulders. She may have been Miss "Misery" for a time, but she was also Miss "Gonna be alright someday."

[ladykailitha]

Little Runaway Part 7

Oh my god you guys, seriously you all are amazing. I am really loving the reactions to this story. There is just one more part to go and it’s a sweet little epilogue. This is the showdown. The moment you’ve all been waiting for.

Also if you asked to be tagged after the limit of twenty, I’m sorry. I have the limit for a reason. I’m not doing it because I’m being elitist or whatever, my poor little ADHD brain starts getting frustrated and wanting to cry just doing the 20 I’ve got, but I do it because it makes me happy people want to be informed the next time a part goes up. I don’t know how people with dozens do it.

Plus tagging adds more time putting up the parts. Something that would take five minutes on AO3 (because they keep track of all the chapters for you) could take anywhere from 10 minutes to an hour depending on how many parts there are, and how many have been put up (I go and crosslink on EVERY part to make sure if a part in the middle gets found in the wild all by its lonesome the person can read the previous and subsequent parts). Add tagging to that and you can see the time starts to really add up. 

Again thank you for all the love and support this little story has gotten. The last part will be up tonight after I eat dinner and then (cold permitting) I’ll put up the first part of Ser Stephan of Harring’s Town before I go to bed.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

*

Eddie walked into the police station and right up to Hopper’s desk. He leaned on it with both hands and stared directly into Hopper’s eyes.

“I need you to arrest me,” he bit out. “Now.”

“What the hell?” Hopper asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Mr Harrington knows I know where Steve is,” he breathed. “I can’t let him get to me to get to Steve. If you need a reason, I have two baggies of weed in my jacket pocket. Please. I don’t want to see him get hurt.”

Hopper gulped. “Well there is a rumor you kidnapped him, so...”

Eddie nodded and held out his hands together at the wrist. “Save him, please.”

*

Steve was sitting on the sofa reading when Wayne came home from work.

“Where’s Eddie?” he asked on his way to the fridge.

Steve shrugged. “He just said he had errands to run.”

Wayne came back with two beers and handed one to Steve. Steve swung his feet off the sofa to let Wayne sit down. Steve set the book down and popped the lid off his bottle and then did the same for Wayne’s when the older man raised an eyebrow.

“Neat trick,” Wayne said, taking a swig.

Steve shrugged. “Turns out years of baseball, basketball, and swimming make you a strong person. I don’t do those things anymore, but I keep working out to keep that strength up.”

“That how you were able to break Clint’s nose?” Wayne asked.

“Yeah,” Steve murmured. “I didn’t mean to, I don’t know how much to hold back when punching, because when I hit most of the time there is no holding back.”

“What have you got to be hitting that needs to be hit that hard, boy?” he asked.

Steve’s shoulders slumped. “I can’t tell you. I can get into a lot of trouble if I tell people. The only ones that know are the ones that have seen it for themselves. But I have seen things that have made grown men shit their pants. I have been hunted by things that would haunt the nightmares of the hardest of souls. I have been actually tortured and drugged. And yet face to face with my own father and I chickened out like a bitch.”

Wayne stared at the boy that should have had the dream life. Rich parents, everything he could have asked for. But instead nothing but heartache and loss for this kid. Because despite Steve almost being twenty, he was still a kid.

He put his hand on Steve’s shoulder and was about to say something when the phone rang. He frowned and got up to answer it.

As he said hello, a curly haired teenager in a trucker hat came barreling through his front door.

“Steve!” Dustin yelled. “Someone at Hellfire snitched and your dad is on his way here.”

Steve worked to calm Dustin while Wayne listened to the other person on the other end of the line, making the appropriate noises. Then he hung up.

“You must be Dustin,” Wayne said coming back over to the sofa.

Dustin looked over at Wayne as if he was seeing him for the first time. “Oh. Yeah. Um...sorry. For barging in like that, but I really needed to see Steve.”

Wayne chuckled. “Don’t worry, your friend here is going to be just fine.” He cocked his head to the side. “How did you get here so fast? I just barely got the call myself what was going down.”

“My mom drove me,” Dustin said, staring at the floor.

“Claudia is here?” Wayne asked. Dustin nodded. “Good. The more the merrier.” He turned to Steve. “Under the sink, behind the Draino is your bag. It’ll be up to you to decide what you want to do with it.”

Steve nodded.

Wayne walked outside.

There standing in a semi-circle was Claudia Henderson, Joyce Byers, and Sheriff Jim Hopper. Standing off to the side, was Eddie who was hugging his ribs. Wayne joined the semi-circle just as Clint Harrington pulled up to the trailer park and got out of his car.

“Sheriff!” Clint yelled. “I want that man arrested for kidnapping my son!” He pointed angrily at Eddie, who looked down.

“I don’t know about that,” Wayne said. “Hey, Steve! You being held against your will?”

Dustin and Steve came out of the trailer slowly, the backpack slung over one shoulder.

“No, sir,” Steve said, looking his father in the eye. “I am not.”

“Liar!” Clint bellowed. “Don’t you be believing a word out of his mouth. He’s been brainwashed.”

“No I haven’t,” Steve said, feeling a little bit more bold knowing he had people who would protect him.

“You leave that boy alone,” Joyce said. “He’s gone through enough.”

Claudia crossed her arms. “Agreed.”

“You better get out of my way,” Clint growled.

Hopped pulled out a piece of paper and held it up. “This here is a warrant for your arrest for the assault of Steven Harrington.”

Clint laughed. “You can’t prove a god damn thing.”

“Actually we can,” Hopper continued. “Steve was smart enough to take pictures after your little tussle and the bruises will match up with your ring.”

Clint went to work it off his finger, but Wayne stepped up to stop him. “I think I’ll be taking that for the Sheriff if you don’t mind.”

Clint growled, but handed it over. He walked back over to Hopper who was holding a baggy for Wayne to drop it into. Hopper sealed the bag and stuck it in his pocket.

“What do you say, Steve?” Hopper called over his shoulder. “Should we lock up this bastard and throw away the key?”

Steve held out his hand to Eddie. Eddie looked at it, unsure and then came over to take it. Steve pressed his forehead to Eddie’s. “What do you think I should do?”

Eddie cupped Steve’s face with his free hand. “You know what to do. You’re a good person, Steve. Do what feels right.”

“You fag, get away from my son!” Clint shouted. He tried to push past the four adults, but they closed ranks and wouldn’t let him through.

Steve breathed in.

“You’ve got this, baby,” Eddie assured him.

Steve nodded. He stepped away from Eddie and tossed the backpack at his dad. “Everything you want is in there. Just take it and leave. Know this. If I or any of my friends see you in Hawkins ever again, the Sheriff will arrest you.”

Hopper grinned. “I like that plan.”

“I’ll cut you off!” Clint snarled. “You’ll be penniless and homeless without me, you ingrate!”

Steve laughed. “I could stay at any number of these fine people’s houses and be welcome for as long as I needed. And as for penniless? I’ve already got a job lined up that I think will make me very happy. And maybe if I’m lucky, a boy who loves me.” He turned to Eddie, who was blushing deep.

Wayne chuckled. “You heard the man, Clint. Get the hell out of Dodge and stay the fuck away from my boys.”

Clint growled and stalked off to his car, the tires peeling out on the gravel as he tore out of the trailer pack as if the hounds of hell were on his tail.

Steve shook his head. “Doesn’t he know that’s bad for his tires?”

Everyone turned to look at Steve in shock and amazement before bursting into laughter.

Claudia took Dustin home and Hopper took Joyce, leaving Steve with the Munsons.

“Is it over?” Eddie asked.

“I’d give Clint a couple days to clear out,” Wayne said. “But yeah. I think it’s over.”

“Does this mean I can stay?” Steve asked, looking up through his lashes.

Wayne rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I was thinking of upgrading to a double wide with two bedrooms. I think we could just about afford it if you help pay rent.”

Steve lit up and turned to Eddie. “You hear that? You’re stuck with me now.”

Eddie smiled and leaned in. “I think it’s the other way round. You’re stuck here with me.”

Steve smiled softly. “And I couldn’t be happier.”

Epilogue

Tag List: @tauntedperfume  @marivictal @eddiemunsonswife @namelessssho @dbquills @goodolefashionedloverboi @steve-the-hairrington @sadcanadianwinter @yearningagain @books-are-my-life-since-1996 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @homohomohoe @knightofthieves @flusteredcas @moonage-daydreaming @goblin-eddie @marvelousforlife @silversnaffles @satan-is-obsessed @yikes-a-bee

[uzuma-take]

Flowers

Fanfic

507 words

As the day's churned away a man sat alone in his hospital bed. His hair now greying and his voice fraying. His youthful vigour swaying. He began to wonder where his man of destiny had gotten two. Where his beloved students Where at.

He remembers so much but also does so little. Peonies were hanging around his bed. His hair once pristine shaped like a bowl now messy and tangled . He was frail . The war had gone on for far two long and taken many of his comrades. Even those who weren't meant to be fighting. Hell none of them deserved to fight. Not after everything they went through. Now look , more death and heartache. More lives needlessly ruined.

What had caused it this time? Why was nobody stepping up to help ?

*knock, Knock, KNOCK*

“Hello Mr gai ? May I come in?”

The man on the bed replied with a “Yeah sure” at this point Gai was looking quizzingly at the young nurse as she walked towards his bed.

“why are you staring at me sir?” she was extremely uncomfortable and concerned about This man. He then spoke in and upbeat voice”

“Ha, I'm just wondering when my Eternal Rival Kakashi will be here!” Suddenly a second nurse walked in looking very sombre.

She whispered telling the first nurse about Gai having lost his memories quite a while ago. After being checked on by the nurses, Gai began to reminisce. They left him, informing him someone was here to see him. A younger man that looked an awful lot like Gai and a Girl who wore buns in her hair came in.

“LEE! TENTEN!” Gai excitedly exclaimed. They had brought flowers and talked for what seemed like hours. Gai began to grow physically tired and let Lee and Tenten go off .

Turning over he saw his best friend, his soul mate, dare I say it his eternal Rival asleep on the seat. Something was off though as if he could see right through him. Gai swung his legs off the bed and for the first time in years there was no pain when he stood. There was no weakness. The only thing he felt was peace. His friend awoke and the first words he spoke were.

“I'm glad I'm not the one whose late this time” gai walked closer pulling Kakashi into a tight embrace.

Gai teared up, “I'm sorry for making you wait, Kakashi.”

“no I'm sorry for leaving you when stuff went down. How's the village recovering after the Boruto and Kawaki incident”

Gai shrugged he'd forgotten most things and passed early due to the first eight gates shortening his life span.

They began to walk and talk, stopping at an old tree where they kissed.

“one more challenge Kakashi?” Kakashi smirked “you're on!”

“first one to find our pops wins.” Kakashi giggled. “go on then. One thing before we begin . Remember I've been here longer”

Back in the hospital, Gai held one single flower. Now forever dreaming up with his eternal Rival.

[mermaidinthecity]

So hello, Mr. Heartache, I've been expecting you. Come in and wear your welcome out, the way you always do. You never say if you're here to stay or only passing through. So hello, Mr. Heartache, I've been expecting you. When I don't feel like company, you make yourself at home even though you know I'd rather be alone. Love walked out on me and didn't even close the door. Next thing I know I'm staring at your shadow on the floor. So hello, Mr. Heartache, I've been expecting you. Come in and wear your welcome out, the way you always do. You never say if you're here to stay or only passing through. So hello, Mr. Heartache, I've been expecting you.

Hello Mr. Heartache by The Chicks

[courtz-thoughtz]

Demon Copperhead (2022) Barbara Kingsolver

📚 5/5 📚

Demon Copperhead is a modern-day adaptation of Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield, a mid-1800’s novel that follows the mostly unfortunate journey from birth to adulthood of a young English boy named (you guessed it) David Copperfield, exploring themes of class and gender along the way. In similar fashion, Demon Copperhead takes the reader on the tumultuous travels of Damon Fields (nicknamed Demon Copperhead), born and grown in rural Lee County, Virginia.

I won’t sugar coat it; this kid was dealt a shitty hand from the get-go. Born in a trailer park to a single teen mother who abuses drugs, lumped with an abusive and arrogant stepfather, and then thrown into foster care, all the while navigating his own trials with addiction, poverty, love, loss, heartache, and friendship.

Despite the somewhat depressing narrative, Kingsolver litters this book with a stunning array of clever similes via an endless stream of adolescent consciousness that had me stifling obnoxious laughter on the bus more than once.

The thing I loved the most about this book was undoubtedly Mr Copperhead himself – being so privy to his boyish inner monologue made me feel like a close friend. I found myself hopeful every time he was on the verge of a win, then utterly heartbroken each time that hope was inevitably thwarted.

Another high point for me is the exceptionally entertaining turns of phrase and character descriptions. My personal favourite is this one about young Emmy Peggott from Chapter 4:

“She was a skinny sixth grader with long brown hair and this look to her, cold-blooded. Carrying around at all times a Hello Kitty backpack that she looked ready to bludgeon you with, then tote around your head inside.”

This revamped coming-of-age story also provides a thought-provoking exploration into the opioid crisis, classism, and the theory that your environment, particularly in the formative years of life, shapes your thoughts, your beliefs, and in many cases, your future. As a regional Australian citizen who has seen one too many failed futures due to a lack of geographical opportunity, this book touched my heart and I’m sure will touch the hearts of many who understand the plights of children who are forced to grow up too fast through no fault of their own.

I award this book with five out of five, my highest honour (not that my honour means anything because who even am I) and I’d like to send a personal thanks to whatever planets aligned to enable my accidental stumble across what I’d now call one of my all-time favourite books (and my all-time favourite protagonist).

Thanks for signing on to read Courts Thoughts on this one.

Cheers

[peachandcherryaredelulu]

Shadow of You TEASER

VAMPIRE!Seventeen

Pairings:Seventeen??XOC, Seventeen??XOC, OT13

Synopsis: Quinn and Kitty are two normal twenty somethings, but when they find themselves in a new country the duo come face to face with love, heartache, and the unknown... or perhaps the supernatural

~ Not edited ~

It started like a whisper, so quiet that Kitty almost missed it. Every night it was the same, no light except for the candles that lined the room, flashes of images of an old dark castle surrounded by mountains capped with snow.. She could see no one else in the room with her, but could feel them watching her and just as the panic began to set in the voices got louder. 

“Katarina” It was loud enough now that she could hear the different voices. Still, she had no idea where they were, the only thing she knew was the louder the calling got the more desperate she was to get to them. To find them. 

“Come to us, Katarina,” It was so loud now as if they were standing right behind her speaking directly into her ear. 

“Katarina.”

“Katarina!”

“Kitty! Get your ass up!” She sat up with a start, nearly rolling off the couch. 

“I’m up Quinn, I’m up.” Kitty rubbed the sleep from her eyes and grabbed her glasses from where they had fallen from the couch. The sun was still up outside and the TV was playing some random episode of Criminal Minds in the background. 

“Did you fall asleep out here? You have a whole bed,”Quinn plopped down next to Kitty on the now free couch cushion. It was the fourth time this week that Kitty had fallen asleep out in the living room, it was never intended either. 

“I know, but I’m not sleeping well at night. I keep having the dream, I don’t know how you sleep so soundly with it,” Kitty was exhausted from her restless sleep. It had been months since the girls had started having identical dreams each night. 

“At first, I was so creeped out and it felt like I was having a panic attack every night when I closed my eyes. But it’s never been like a nightmare, I realized at some point I never felt scared of what was happening. My panic was because I feel as though my soul is weeping to get to those voices,” Quinn had told Kitty this all before and she couldn’t help but agree to some degree with her best friend. She had never had a true nightmare since these dreams started but there was something that sat low in her gut every time she slept. Fear of the unknown or of all the superstitions her family had drilled into her as a child. 

“I know, but all I can think about is the scary stories my Father would tell me as a kid so I would behave. That if I was a bad child the red-eyed men would drag me away into their castle and eat me,” Mr. Turca was a harsh man and had always been rather ill-suited for fatherhood. Even now the only thing he was good for was paying the bills, his trade off to keep his first born daughter as far from his new family as possible. That’s how the two girls met, when Kitty was shipped off to boarding school after her Father had remarried. 

“He’s such an asshole, you know that. He acts so high and mighty all the time. I’ve never even met the man and we’ve been friends since we were 12!” the two girls broke out in giggles, one sure fire way to make their days better were to talk shit about Mr. Turca or Quinn’s mother. 

A buzzing sound started from the coffee table in front of the couch, the two turned to each other trying to sober up from their laughter. 

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” Kitty flashed her phone screen to Quinn to show that her father was calling her. 

“I can only imagine what he wants now. You know he only ever calls for two reasons,” The two girls rolled their eyes knowing that he was either about to yell at Kitty for being a disappointment again or he was going to ask her to do something that was beneficial only to him. 

“Hello.” Kitty’s voice always became cold when speaking with her father, gone was the happy and loving woman she had worked so hard to become everytime his voice rang out over the phone. 

“Katarina, I have news about Aunt Lucia. She had been put on hospice care and given only a few weeks to live,” Kitty’s eyes went wide with the news and Quinn took that as her cue to retreat into her room to give her roommate some privacy during the phone call. 

Quinn was known to be too curious for her own good, let’s be honest she was a nosy bitch. She wanted to know everyone's business all the time, but she also respected her best friend above all else. Kitty’s father was a sore spot and most of their calls ended in some sort of fight between the two of them followed by him buying her something expensive to make amends. To keep her from going anywhere near his new wife and kids and imposing on his new happy life without her. 

Quinn occupied herself with her books and the other random crap in her room while she waited for the phone call to end, Kitty would almost always come and debrief after a conversation to process the bullshit that her father would spew. 

This conversation seemed to be taking longer than usual. The goal for both father and daughter were to keep these calls as brief as possible, the less they interacted the better. 

Twenty minutes passed before waltzing into Quinn's room with a smirk on her face. 

“I just scored us a free summer vacation traveling around the whole of Europe,” Kitty was rather proud of her bartering skills this time around. Her father wanted something huge from her and she wanted something huge from him. 

“What’s the catch?” There was always a catch with the Turca family, nothing was ever truly free with them. 

“We have to go to Romania and stay with Aunt Lucia until she dies. Then we can spend the rest of the summer traveling Europe as we please on my fathers dime.” Kitty was a little too nonchalant in her delivery of the real reason behind their Europe trip.

“I don’t know how I feel about this, have you ever met this woman?” Quinn was usually fine with all types of fuckery but this… the vibes were just slightly off with this. 

“No, I’ve never been to Romania. My dad went with his grandparents when he was very young, but that was the only time he’s been. Aunt Lucia is my father’s great aunt, his grandfather’s twin sister.” Quinn’s eyes went wide at the news of this woman’s age. 

“She turned 108 in March, the look on your face gave it all away. I don’t know how she made it this long either, kinda feel bad for her.” Kitty stopped playing with the book she had picked up off of Quinn’s bedside table to think back to what she knew of the woman she would see to the end of her life, “Never married or had children, she’s lived in the family home her entire life. She refused to leave when her brother decided to leave the country. She’s like a hermit from what I understand, but no one should die alone.” 

“Well then, looks like we're going to Romania and Europe for the summer. Good thing you’re a kindergarten teacher and have summers off.” Quinn assured her best friend trying to bring the mood back up.

“Good thing your job is writing erotic monster fiction and you can do that from anywhere,” Kitty pocked back at Quinn tossing the book with Quinn’s name across the front towards her spot on her bed. 

Thousands of miles away fate was stirring. Thirteen pairs of red eyes were open and looking into the darkness of night waiting, longing for their brides to come to them once more. To complete them. 

[laylajeffany]

(hi I know you don’t know who I am, but I love your fic “Chaos For The Fly”.) sorry for this long thingy.

Hello, I’ve been reading your fanfic “Chaos for the Fly” I’m sure you’ve heard of it, Yeah?

Ok, good.

Well, I’m just over a chapter into writing my very first, ever (soon to be) posted fanfiction, and I was wondering something.

Feel free to say no, I won’t be upset… much.

But, I would very much like to “borrow” several of your OCs from Chaos. I just feel as though they are cannon to me and any OC that I come up with, would just be a pale, poor imitation of your characters. I mean, granted, they would still be pale, poor imitations of your work. Regardless of if you let me use them or not.

Like I said, feel free to say no, they are your creations and you did the work. All I would be doing is copying your homework but changing it enough that the teacher (readers) can’t tell that I copied off of you.

For real though, I wouldn’t be copying them verbatim. I’ll be altering the story to fit mine, but for the most part I plan to use most of their beforehand lives in the same manor that you did. Obviously, some of it will be different, and the writing will be astronomically worse, compared to your writing.

I will also be changing most of everything that happened after the new semester begins. But they will still be the same characters, for the most part and was wondering if I could use them.

Again, say no if you want. I haven’t actually gotten to the point in the story that I wanted to write them in.

So, don’t think I’ve already written stuff with them in it, and that you don’t want me to scrap what I have. I haven’t written anything with them yet, except for concepts and ideas for the story as a whole.

Also, obviously I will give you credit, for the use of the characters. I’m not that heartless. I will link your fic several, several times throughout my fic. And I will state in several chapter notes that I got permission from you.

Anyway, thank you for the fantastic fanfiction. I blame you for the heartache that’ll come with writing fanfiction and actually posting it. And have a nice flight.

List of characters I would like to use: Dr. Josephine Zypher (of course), Her girlfriend Emiliana Girard (that was how it was spelled right?), the snakes Altair and possibly Gus Gus (can’t not have them), Dr. Kerrigan Gallor/bug man, and And Josephine’s Grandfather Dr. Hugh Zypher. I might also use Mr. Harlow, but I haven’t decided yet.

(PS. I’m only halfway done with Chaos, but I just had so many ideas that I wanted to start writing. So for the future, if someone says I’m copying your fic, it’s cause I probably wrote it before finishing chaos. I will state that much while posting my fic, but it may come up idk. Also, I’m trying to find the time in my days to write and read. But so far, I suck at time management.)

(PPS. I totally didn’t create a whole AO3 account, tumblr account, and Reddit account just because of your fic Chaos inspiring me to finally kick my butt into gear and actually start writing some stuff AND posting them. Instead of just writing crap and keeping it to myself for years and years. TYSM love your work. ❤️)

Wenclair for life!

I’m always content to encourage other writers and say that I am cool to share the toys in the sandbox. I’m glad that I have inspired you to write. First and foremost, I would hope that whoever is borrowing my original characters is not making any sort of profit from their writing, as I firmly do not believe in charging readers for fan works (ko-fi, a patreon or commissions for fic).

However, I’m not sure why you would want to borrow my OCs if you want to change them around? At that point, wouldn’t you just want to develop your own original characters if the ones I created aren’t going to serve your writing needs? I really don’t know why you’d want to use someone else’s OC and make it your own version of that original character when you could just make your own OC.

I also really don’t think you should just write a copy-change of someone else’s fic that you are planning to post? Like if you’re doing that to practice writing and keeping it in your own space, that’s one thing, but I think it’s pretty bold to copy-change and post someone else’s work with your own spin on what is already a fan work. I’m not sure I understand this. I ultimately don’t care. I won't read something featuring my OCs that I didn’t write, and don’t promote works that I don’t read so...whatever happens, I honestly probably won’t see it unless someone brings it to my attention.  I'm glad my fic has inspired you to write, and wish you well in that endeavor!

[waterloggedsoliloquy]

2 & 9 for opal!

2. What's something about your OC that people wouldn't expect just from looking at them?

He knows what he's doing. Not all of it can be chalked up to dumb boy who doesn't know better.

9. Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

I like this question. Here is his playlist! And attached favorite lyrics like the 8tracks days. I can't say who he's referring to in every song, but maybe you might have some ideas?

Well, I'm just a kid of ill repute / But the skin I wear's my only suit / And you, you're just a substitute / For the one that I hold dear

2. The blocking characters are plotting new disloyalty / But sensing their irrelevance, they're frowning and displeased / The car chased through the mini-mall, amaryllis on the hood

3. All these things I've tried, boy, be cute, be dumb, be wise, be young

4. I'M SCARED! THAT I! WON'T E! VER CHANGE! I THINK! ABOUT! HER E! VERY DAY! I CAN'T! LET GO! I CAN'T! GO ON! I'M NOT! OKAY! AT ALL!

5. Hey there Mr. Blue! We're so pleased to be with you!

6. 'Cuz my heart is my keep! / And yo-u-u-u-u-u are threatening me!

7. The ache of a decade / the cure is overdue / for this brand-new kind of blue

8. You told me I'm hard to live with, but you said it out of spite! / I may put you through some suffering but I'll never prove you right! / It's a chapter that you're stuck on, but you'd rather read alone / I'm an uninspiring ending, but the best you've ever known!

9. Once I was the King of Spain / now I eat humble pie / A palatial palace, that was my home / now I eat humble pie

10. All My Friends Are Falling In Love / I know that if I was to set you free / You'd let them take you away from me

11. The sleeping beauty of the wasteland / Carry the milk or pierce the body with swords / machine guns, flowers, and peacock feathers

12. You got a reaction / You got a reaction, didn't you? / You took a white orchid / You took a white orchid turned it blue

13. 'Cuz what if I become my mother's / sole reputation? / and with no hesitation / i just burn all night

14. You are an unfit rival / By spirits taught to sing / But a tune so twisted now / Like all that's sweet's gone sour

15. I hug myself hard / How come there's peacocks in the front yard?

16. One girl's not so loud, like a convert she believes / She's always been looking for wires / But now she knows none are required / It's magic

17. I can see now you've stepped into the light / You've got those bright kind of eyes that I like / I kinda lie and I can't find a way through / I've obscured my own view / Well I'd do anything to make you mine

18. I just want to know what your feathers are made out of / Is it bruises or roses or cradles or coffins? (It's all those!) / Which peacock is beast? Which peacock is priest? / If your friends are all cripple, all wither, all wilt / I know, I know, I know

19. My name should be trouble / my name should be woe! / 'cuz trouble heartache / is all that I know! / Lonely lonely blue boy / is my name!

20. Don't occupy my throne, give me the crown I own / Lived like you told me how, look at me now

21. Swear to shake it up, if you swear to listen / Oh, we're still so young, desperate for attention / I aim to be your eyes, trophy boys, trophy wives

22. [no lyrics]

23. Misjudged your limits / Pushed you too far / Took you for granted / I thought that you needed me more, more, more

24. Poor little rich boy, all the couples have gone / You wish that they hadn't, you don't wanna be alone / But they wanna kiss and they got homes of their own

25. What she asked of me at the end of the day/ Caligula would have blushed!

26. [no lyrics]

27. Today I am / A small blue thing / Like a marble / Or an eye / With my knees against my mouth

28. Will you come a little closer now and tell me I'm a / Scrawny mother fucker with a cool hairstyle?

29. Hello again / Not much has changed / I'm still the same / Just a bit older / Where have you been? / How do you like it? / I'm still the same / Just a bit bolder

[munsontm]

𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓  𝟓 (𝐨𝐫 𝟏𝟎)  𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐓𝐎  𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄  𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑  𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄.

1.   hells bells  /  acdc

2.   n.i.b.  /  black sabbath

3.   sabbath bloody sabbath  /  black sabbath

4.   nothing but a heartache  /  the flirtations ( you didn’t see that coming, did ya?)

5.   burning down the house  /  talking heads ( or that lmao )

6.   planet caravan  /  black sabbath

7.   wild child  /  w.a.s.p.

8.   hello earth  /  kate bush ( i didn’t see this one coming)

9.   raining blood  /  slayer

10. straight through the heart  /  dio

&  𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓  𝟓  𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐓𝐎  𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄  𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑  𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄.

1.      "this machine kills fascists.”  -  woody guthrie.

2.     "be the strange you wish to see in the world.”  -  sasha velour.

3.     “I don’t want you to play me a riff that’s going to impress Joe Satriani; give me a riff that makes a kid want to go out and buy a guitar and learn to play.”  -  ozzy osbourne. 

4.     “It would be the death of you to come with me, Sam," said Frodo, "and I could not have borne that."

"Not as certain as being left behind," said Sam.

"But I am going to Mordor."

"I know that well enough, Mr. Frodo. Of course you are. And I'm coming with you.”  -  j.r.r. tolkien.

5.        “I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.”  -  j.r.r. tolkien.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲:  no one. i nicked it.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠:  @harringtontm  /  @langdhon  /  @immobiliter  /  @shadowcovcn  /  @mikewheelertm  /  @kingsnack  /  @harringtohn  /  @rebelcliche  /  @wheelrisms  /  @zoomingupthathill  /  @flaeyed  /  @piraticalwit  /  @twistedwit  /  @infectd  /  @bbysttr  /  @sinfyre  /  @exkingbabysitter  /  @jonbyers  /  @reignedfear  /  @reignedchime  /  @chrissycunningham  /  @voidsight  /  @cleryc   /  @istories     /   and anyone else ofc <3