independent, mutuals only && selective ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐. resurrected as an oc by soapy (27), i am not affiliated w the strpc. blog est. 2022, re-est. 2023, moved '26
๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐:ย being a hero, the town outcast, the sins of the father, looking like a baddie but being a softie, the local drug dealer, being haunted by your name, music as a life saver, metal in a plastic world, fuelling the satanic panic && sticking it to the man!!
๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธย ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ ย ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธ๏ธย case file โง memes โง carrd โง pinterest
credits:
header: the incredibly talented && stunning legend that is @miercolaes <3
pinned: meowydevil
icon template: long lost the credit unfortunately but not my template
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blood, blood, gallons of the stuff ! a collection of icky, bloody prompts for those who like to choose violence. actions are reversible. general warning for blood, violence, murder, death.
๐๐ฟ๐พ๐บ๐ด๐ฝ :
" that's a lot of blood. "
" it isn't mine. "
" what did you do ? "
[ sigh ] " what did you do ? "
" come on. have a taste. "
" holy shit, are you okay ? "
" it looks worse than it feels. "
" you should see the other guy. "
" it's a good look on you. you should get covered in blood more often. "
" lean on me. "
" oh my god. oh my god, oh my god, what the fuck ? is that what i fucking think it is ? "
" . . . gross. "
[ standing over a body ] " oops. "
" is that a fucking body ? "
" look, i'm sorry, okay ? "
" what the hell happened ? "
" before you say anything, it wasn't me. "
" at least it wasn't me this time. "
" look at me. this is who i am, no matter how much you pretend it isn't. "
" look at me. this is who i am, no matter how much you wish it wasn't. "
" i'm not scared of you. "
" you don't scare me. "
" shut up and let me help you. "
" i got your shirt all bloody. "
" let's get you cleaned up. "
" that looks like it hurts. "
" i'm fine, just. . . give me a minute. "
" we are so fucked. "
" what the fuck is wrong with you ? "
" are you gonna help me clean it up or not ? "
" the fucker deserved it. "
" red looks good on you. "
" what the hell did you do ; tap - dance all over the body with ice - skates ? "
" what, did you run over the body with your car a couple times after ? "
" i. . . i didn't mean to. . . "
" sorry. fuck, i'm sorry. "
" this isn't what it looks like. "
" it was an accident. "
" motherfucker ran right into my knife, i swear. "
" people need to look both ways before crossing. . . bullets. "
" would you believe me if i said wrong place, wrong time ? "
" hey, look at me. i don't care. are you okay ? "
" they deserved it, right ? please tell me they deserved it. "
" you're bleeding. "
" what the fuck happened to you ? "
" you're getting blood on the carpet. "
" sit down before you fall down. "
" that looks like a you problem. "
๐๐ฝ๐๐ฟ๐พ๐บ๐ด๐ฝ :
sender spits out a mouthful of blood at receiver's feet
sender spits out a mouthful of blood on receiver
receiver finds sender covered in blood
sender tries desperately to stop receiver's bleeding
sender helps receiver clean up after a kill
sender wipes blood from receiver's face with a washcloth
sender wipes blood from receiver's face with their thumb
sender licks receiver's blood off a knife
sender licks receiver's blood off their thumb
sender lights up a cigarette a foot away from someone they killed before offering one to receiver
receiver finds sender stood over a body
sender stitches up receiver's wound [ optional wound placement ]
sender digs their finger into receiver's wound [ optional wound placement ]
sender frantically checks receiver for injuries under all the blood
sender guides receiver's bloody hands under a faucet / water source and begins washing them clean
sender bites receiver hard enough to draw blood
sender tilts receiver's head back to staunch a nosebleed
sender draws a smiley face out of the blood they spilled :)
receiver finds sender cleaning up a kill in a daze
sender looks receiver in the eye as they shoot / stab / kill someone
sender ruffles receiver's hair, getting blood all over their hand
sender gets some of receiver's blood on them and makes a face
sender flicks blood at receiver to annoy them
sender stomps in a pool of blood to splash it on receiver
sender slips in their victim's blood but receiver steadies them before they can fall
sender steadies receiver when they slip in the blood sender spilled
receiver comes home to sender covered in blood and waiting for them with all the lights off
sender spits out a tooth and it hits receiver
sender tries to wipe blood off receiver but the blood on their hands just makes it worse
sender takes an injury meant for receiver
sender shows up on receiver's doorstep covered in blood
sender sits down quietly next to receiver after receiver kills someone
sender punches receiver in the mouth
receiver watches sender lick the blood off their fingers like its cheeto dust
sender helps receiver bury a body
sender hugs receiver just to get their victim's blood all over them <3
sender hugs receiver just to get their blood all over them <3
sender leans on receiver for support
sender kills someone to protect receiver
receiver finds sender in a frenzy maiming a body after they've already killed it
sender kills someone and the blood spatters on receiver
receiver finds sender desperately trying to wash the blood off of themself
sender kisses receiver to taste the blood on their busted lip
sender shoots / stabs receiver non - fatally as a warning
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al was born in hawkins, indiana in 1942. his parents, jack and mary ellen's, second son. the youngest of three children, al got away with the most. missed school days, letters home from school, curfews dodged almost every evening. a free spirit, his mother would call him. but really, she didn't have the energy to run after him all the time. wayne, his older brother by two years, never had such luxury. nor did he act like a troublemaker. al's sister, eloise, three years his senior, was the quietest of the three but always scolded al for misbehaving, his cursing, and his lack of manners. in 1949, eloise passed away from drowning at the quarry. al didn't understand it, his brother never explained how it happened and his parents became distant. a house washed over with unadulterated grief and depression - it never really lifted.
al, as the years went by, was desperate to leave.
school wasn't his thing, dropping out of hawkins high in 1959 in his final year. the war, that he witnessed his friends drop like flies from the town as they got drafted, that wasn't his thing either - despite being drafted. he was smart, conniving, tricky enough to swindle his way out of the conscription. others weren't so lucky. instead of hanging around indiana, al hits the road. stops off at numerous small towns and cities - meets lots of new people. gets into the wrong kind of territory. drug dealing, gambling, con-artistry (he's always been a natural pro.) but hey, he got money.
in 1961, al landed in memphis, tennessee. the city had life to it; loud, bright, it had character and soul. it's here that he met the love of his life: elizabeth franklin. he saw her wild hair first while she walked the aisles of the diner, coffee pot in hand and a warm smile for every customer. then her accent. then her snarky reply to his corny attempt at asking her out. a woman after his own heart, he'd thought. but al was always good with words and with women, and the two begin dating.
it's not long into their relationship that he suggests elizabeth moves back to hawkins with him. he claimed it was because he loves her, he can't leave without her, he wants to start a life with her and he's got a house back there. really, he was on the cusp of being snatched up a dangerous crowd he'd wronged (it becomes a trend for him) in the city. a few phone calls to the right people and he could have a place for them in no time - he had the cash after all. but he didn't lie about wanting to start a life with elizabeth. it takes some convincing, but he was always good at that.
despite escaping the dark business of the cities, al didn't stop once they moved to hawkins. if anything, he got worse. cockier. smarter. acquaintances and friends with criminals; helping with forgeries, robberies, drug peddling. it was addictive. he got a rush when the money came rolling in, but mostly from the acts themselves. the high of knowing the law was being broken. a kick from getting away unscathed. the adrenaline in deception.
al proposes to elizabeth by lover's lake. a ring he'd actually bought himself rather than stole, cheap but the sentiment was there.
al spends most days out of the house. 'working' he'd say. technically, he was, only it wasn't legal. in 1965, his wife sits cross-legged on the floor when he returns home from work. her eyes are beaming, a wide smile and a roar of excited laughter. a baby, she'd yelled. hopped up off the floor and hugged her husband tight. he was excited, over the moon ... but he didn't think of the responsibility.
january 27 1966, eddie was born. al called it the best day of his life, even shed a tear or two. but he wasn't there when his wife went into labour. working a job - forging cheques - while his brother drove her to hawkins memorial hospital. al made it just in time, figured it was fine, it didn't matter he was a little late. his wife never forgot.
two months later, the couple marry. a small wedding, tiny, only attended by friends and al's brother. wayne had spent his years working, settling in the south for a while and returning to hawkins not long after al did. although they had an ... unsteady relationship, polar opposites, they were glad to see each other again.
it was the night of the wedding, at a local dive bar, that wayne sat al down to talk. you got a wife and son now, al. you've finally come home. lived the high life, now it's time to settle. al's attempt to dodge his way out of the conversation fails, because his brother knows all the tricks in his book. an argument ensued, and wayne left the bar with a slammed door. but not without a word of warning to elizabeth.
wayne's warning should have been heeded. elizabeth spent her days with her son, alone in the house. everything for her baby, all the chores, shopping, daily routine were all done alone. al wasn't entirely absent, just always LATE everyday. he wasn't exactly watching the clock while on the run from cops, betting other people's money or sneaking around warehouses to help with cargo-loads of drugs.
but in the evenings, or the rare free days, al adored his family. often jumping unprompted from the dinner table to waltz with elizabeth. turn, turn, turn by the byrds was his go-to, hearing it playing through their crackled radio set on the kitchen counter. or he'd play guitar to eddie. and take walks with the two in the sun, smiling fondly while his wife often rambled about her boring days and his son began to form full sentences. in 1968, the family got bigger.
on april 9, al's second child, lizzy is born. elizabeth suggested eloise for a name - al had firmly and quite angrily disagreed. little lizzy, named after her mom, he'd insisted.
having one kid is hard work, but two is crazy, he'd thought. despite having rarely done the real work of raising them. always around for fun, not often the responsibility. he gradually began spending less and less time at home. nights surrounded by piles of cash, cards, drinks, cigarettes, drugs, and criminals all scheming. al always had the upper hand. the smartest guy in the room, talking his way into getting the biggest cut for the next robbery or forgery. his money was brought home to his wife and kids, but not all of it.
in 1971, elizabeth falls ill. sick enough the doctor warns her days are numbered. only being in her late 20s. al comes home every night, cuts out the habit of leaving for days on end. he helps elizabeth, helps with the kids, does everything he can -- which he should have been doing all along. every moment is cherished and he tries to reassure her that the doctors could have been wrong.
they weren't. al's life comes crashing down a year later. elizabeth passes away in hospital on a wednesday. life feels dull for so long; a monotonous drag without the light and brightness that was his wife. for a few years, al steps up and takes parenting seriously. kind of. school, routines, shopping, dinners, lessons. he made a great spaghetti bolognese. he taught the kids how to swim - much to eddie's disgust, being thrown into the water and told figure it out while his dad followed after. funny how that was al's method considering his sister's demise. he read stories to them both nightly and taught them life-lessons, more so eddie than lizzy. how to pick a lock, hot-wire a car, forge a signature, shoot a gun, or get into a store undetected.
by the time eddie was 8, al started his disappearing act once again. and when he was home, sneaking in at the late hours, he often brought along friends. aka criminals, scheming at the kitchen table. something elizabeth used to hate. more 'jobs' were popping up and time often slipped by him, but he showed his kids how to use the oven. left noodles and bread and cola behind. almost always out of date. eddie learns to take care of himself, and his sister, far too young. wayne intervenes eventually, bringing the two back to forest hills trailer park, which became a constant back-and-forth between places when al would return and bring them home.
al's longest disappearing act was when eddie was 17. months went by and he never came home. it'd become routine; eddie didn't care all that much, or so he'd say. a house to himself, it wasn't so bad. and lack of an already absent and shitty dad was even better.
while eddie was living alone, al was all the way in oregon working alongside a drug kingpin as his right hand man. he was bringing in more money (only for himself, of course) than he'd ever seen, though the stakes were higher and far more dangerous. but the money was never enough, not for al. not when his boss was getting far bigger cuts. al is smart, but greed takes over and he steals a ... fucking LOT of money from his boss.
1984 should have been al munson's downfall. dragging his son into a drug heist, held at gunpoint more than once, a scheme gone horribly wrong when his boss' goons catch up to him. his child manipulated and heartbroken, their house in flames, a cop shot and al lets eddie take the fall. because, al would claim, he was foolish enough to try and help. the right thing, saving a cop?? al could never. he leaves eddie behind. leaves lizzy, hawkins, wayne, his entire life behind one last time and drives away.
where'd he go?? lots of states, he remained on the run. he stopped off at numerous small towns and cities, met new people. got into the wrong kind of territory again. FINALLY, he ended up in prison in arkansas. not far from memphis, tennessee. a robbery gone wrong with an undercover cop in the midst of the operation.
al never wrote home, figured all those familial bonds have been severed. they wouldn't have had the money to pay his bail anyway. he managed to get a system going in prison. imports from the outside and deals with guards, charming his way into another scheme.
he got himself a radio for his cell. the first evening he turned it on, turn turn turn by the byrds came through the fuzzy signal. al smiled to himself, seeing it as some kind of sign from his wife. like elizabeth was there with him, still prancing around a room, wherever she is. but really, she would have despised him.
ELIZABETH MUNSON NรE FRANKLIN
details below
pinterest
elizabeth franklin had big dreams and an even bigger heart. she was kind, the type of kind to help someone with their groceries, gladly hold a door for a long line of people, hand whatever coins she had to someone who needed them far more than her or run to walk an elderly person across the road. she was outspoken, good hearted, fiesty, funny. she could terrify you with a glare and warm your soul with a smile.
in her teenage years, the 50s, she knew she wanted to be an artist. she grew up using music and a paintbrush as an outlet. she loved the blues, country, rock. anything with soul. whether she wanted to be a singer or a painter, she didn't care which. anything about self expression.
her kindness mixed with smart remarks is exactly what attracts alan munson to her, who meets her at a diner in memphis, tennessee where she works at 19 years old. it's her hometown, he's just passing through. he's charming and she's smitten. they spend everyday together while he's there, the time dragging on that she wonders if he really is passing through.
soon into their fling relationship, al wants her to move to indiana. back to his hometown. somehow landed a house. as fierce as she is, she's hesitant, scared, it's going quick but she doesn't want to lose the love of her life. he's convincing enough. she leaves her life behind; her family. her friends and her home. all she brings is her record collection. she'll come back to visit, she swears. she never gets that chance.
hawkins, indiana is boring. it's a sleepy town. lifeless compared to memphis. she doesn't quite fit in. she's turned down at every job within her first few weeks. no sense of purpose, except her boyfriend - who proposes by lover's lake after her third job decline. cheap ring and cheap drinks, but the cost didn't matter. it was the sentiment. she makes very few friends in hawkins, mostly acquaintances. (she's got one real friend, helena - shoutout to @ cannib4l)
she wakes up everyday and does her makeup, puts on her records, paints, sings around the house and tries to make it a home, diy style. elizabeth often could be found on the porch, a herbal tea or coffee in hand, a cigarette and a song in her head while people watching in the neighbourhood. always waving at passerbys and a croaky hello. al disappears for hours on end everyday. 'work with the boys,' he says.
april 1965, elizabeth finds out she's pregnant. she cries tears of joy. she'd always dreamed of having kids and now she had a sense of purpose again. pregnancy is tough, she struggles for majority of the months with symptoms and loneliness... 'work with the boys,' he says. al isn't lying, but he never discloses just what 'work' is. elizabeth is smart, she knows he's up to no good. at least they have some kind of income.
january 1966, elizabeth goes into labour. her soon to be brother-in-law, wayne, drives her to hawkins memorial hospital. al is nowhere to be found for hours, but manages to make it just in time. their son, edward munson, is born on 27 january.
elizabeth marries al in march, 1966. a small ceremony, very (and few) close friends, their baby and al's brother, wayne. elizabeth's family don't travel for it. they wish them the best on a crackled and brief phone call that morning. as they did when eddie was born. the newly weds have cake, get dressed up, visit the lake, and the next day normalcy resumes.
motherhood is hard work, but the most rewarding thing in the world, she thought. she spends every waking and sleeping hour with her child. rushing around the stores to get groceries with him, doctors appointments, car rides, doing chores, church visits, story time, bath time, dinner time, early mornings, dreadfully late nights and her time on the porch. she never gets a moment to herself. she doesn't complain, elizabeth loves spending time with eddie.
when he's a little older, still a toddler/child, she teaches him the importance of music. how it can change one's perspective on life and is a form of expression, through lyrics or sounds. she dances with him and shows him every record in her collection. it's nice, someone that small listening so intently and such a wonder in their eyes. the wonder in her eyes dulled over time ever since she left with al.
on april 9 1968, elizabeth has her second child (@ strange-sapphic). al insists she be named after her mother. elizabeth. little lizzy.
two small kids is chaotic, drives her to tears most days when al is nowhere to be seen, but she wouldn't have it any other way. the sweetest moments can be found in the simplicity of motherhood. seeing her children messily eat breakfast in the cramped kitchen and the room filled with giggling on an early morning, as she sips a drink, watches and smiles because this is what it's all about.
but her husband is gone for hours even at night by now, sometimes not coming back home for over twenty four hours. she worries, until it becomes typical. and yet, elizabeth still spends restless nights sitting by the window waiting for al to come home. she contemplates leaving her husband most nights, tells no one but her best friend. at least now elizabeth's got company at night, a two year old asleep on the couch next to her and a four year old asleep by her side. a four year who refused to go to bed if his mama was sad.
eddie is five years old when she falls ill. it was a routine doctors visit. a seemingly small issue brought up followed by check-ups, scans, letters and bad news. an hourglass above her head, counting down the days. al doesn't leave home much anymore, at least sticking by her side while he can. elizabeth sobs every morning and night, in fear and eventually, pain. she never lets her children see, when she can help it. she distracts them with music, elaborate stories and laughter. no more dancing. if her last memories can be her children smiling and laughing, then life wasn't so bad despite the abrupt end. but she'll never see them grow up and that's breaking her heart.
elizabeth munson nรฉe franklin, in her 20s, passes away in hospital on a wednesday in 1972. her son is six years old, her daughter four years old and her husband is by her side one last time. it was a cloudy and dark day. it didn't stop raining for a week. eddie thought she'd taken the sunshine with her.
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PROMPTS FOR PRE ESTABLISHED CONNECTIONS AND CREATING HISTORY BETWEEN CHARACTERS
smoke curls from the ashtray sat upon the table between them, && momentarily, her face is obscured as she speaks. disappearing for split seconds, as she had for months. despite living nearby, the two became STRANGERS. eddie never had the guts to confront kimberly -- tricked himself into thinking he didn't care enough to. it was a fling, a spark of something that fizzled out with one too many disagreements. && that's that, nothing more. right person, wrong time. or wrong person, wrong time. all lies.
a dry laugh is let out. humourless. dull, almost a sigh. the cigarette in the tray is snatched up, eyes lingering on the wall ahead rather than on kimberly. there should be a sarcastic comment to follow, a quip in defence or deflection of the entire situation. there isn't. && the silence is becoming deafening, time ticking to almost a whole minute. the refrigerators humming is louder. the distant barking of the neighbours dog sounds closer. the ticking of wayne's twenty-something year-old wall clock is agonizing.
" yeah. " ah, he speaks!! " pointing out the obvious. " finally, brown eyes drift to meet hers. a flicker of a smile on eddie's face; with no amusement, no mischief ... more sad, than anything else. a drag of the cigarette is taken before he shrugs, finger pointing to himself, " i fucked up. " then pointing to the other, " and, uh, you fucked up. " that ghost of a smile looking far too much like a frown now. " so ... there you go. we've discussed it now. "
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PROMPTS FOR PRE ESTABLISHED CONNECTIONS AND CREATING HISTORY BETWEEN CHARACTERS
* ย assorted dialogue for giving your characters a history and giving them past things or events to talk about, adjust as necessary
do you remember what i told you last time?
have you been doing well since i saw you?
that's not what you told me back then.
when was the last time i saw you?
you were shorter then.
i'm picking the restaurant this time.
we've known each other since we were children.
always knew i could count on you.
that time was different. this is worse.
you're not going to let me live that down, are you?
i seem to remember a conversation we had back then.
so you changed your mind about it?
do you remember our encounter in paris?
you should know me by now.
am i the only one that knows the truth?
we had a lot of help back then.
your mom told me to look out for you.
you just love bringing that back up to annoy me.
maybe don't mention my past indescretions?
this was never going to work out between us.
i told you not to get attached.
i know more about you than you think.
i was there, remember?
i'm not about to forget all the shit you put me through.
you told me you were going to try and make this work.
remember what i said to you?
the last time i saw you, things were good between us.
you never mentioned this before.
that was the longest flight of my life, and you made it worse.
can i still trust you after all that?
at least we tried to make something work.
we never discussed what happened between us.
okay, but i'm driving the car this time.
i haven't forgotten what you said last week.
i'm still thinking about your comment.
i didn't realize it was you when i first saw you.
you seem to make a lot of enemies around here.
there's not much for us to talk about.
we worked it out last time.
i know you far better than you know yourself.
we have a long history.
is that the shirt you were wearing last time?
what don't i know about you?
i haven't told them about us.
you were the only person i could go to.
you know me.
this is bigger than both of us.
i can't stand your driving.
are you taking me to the place we had dinner last time?
that's not at all what you said.
didn't we agree on that?
i thought i made it very clear where i stand.
are these the same people that came after you last time?
