#funer4lf0g

records are like his second home, if his first was hunger. his stomach twinged as he smelled the air. it smelled sweet & like sweat. all too human, he thought to himself. he inched by her, a hand grazing her arm as he did so. "sorry," the words were soft and oozing southern hospitality as he offered her a smile, "just trying to get to the led zeppelin records."

her scent made his stomach turn again. oh how the hunger clawed at him. his tongue ran along his sharp canines as he stared at her. this time his stomach growled and his eye grew wide. "ah, haha, sorry didn't have breakfast." this was followed by a laugh.

The tide had gone out hours ago, but the scent of salt still clung to the wet hem of June’s coat. She stood just beyond the crooked “NO TRESPASSING” sign, boot soles half-sinking into the brackish earth, staring down the rust-bitten dock where the stranger waited.

“You picked a hell of a place for a meeting,” June drawled, voice low and half-buried in the wind. She didn’t reach for her cigarette yet. Not until she knew if the other woman would bolt or bite. The marsh around them sighed like an old grave exhaling. Something in the shadows behind June moved—a twitch of seaweed, or a memory that had grown claws.

for muses that are getting to know each other / accepting !

send “ who did this to you ? ” for the sender to find the receiver injured and demand to know who did it.

her face is immediately guarded as soon as scout asks, the question making her ache inside of the answer and she presses her lips together slowly, the black eye apparent in her appearance and she knows not to stumble over her words, she's been acting like everything is fine for years, who cares if one person cares about her in this shitty town? it barely hurts anymore, turning into a small pain. she tilts her head up higher, beverly marsh, never one to let go of her pride, no matter the cost. " i tripped. " she answers and flashes a forced smile hoping it was believable, her dad came home drunk last night on one and decided to use beverly's face to curb the anger of the dishes not being done to his liking, but, really, what else is fucking new?

"Well they're all losers." Aria said as she looked through her closet for something to wear. "Look. I've always been the weird girl. I used to care what people thought. Now I just don't give a shit." She smiled. "I know that's easier said than done but you just gotta try."