#I wonder if Ethel’s gonna be there

[theswedishpajas]

I’ve been busy with a huge project so there hasn’t been much art lately but at least I can give you this and wish you a happy easter! Be careful with the fires, you don’t wanna disturb the witches on their way to blåkulla the house of hope!!!

[emotargaryen]

on aux at work and all things end by hozier was playing and an old lady asked if it was a christian radio station i’m fucking crying 😭

[ataliagold]

trouble's always gonna find you baby, but so will i

For Whumptober prompt 10, I used "blow to the head" and "slurred words." Title from Western Nights by Ethel Cain.

Also on AO3.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: T

W/C: 1546

Tags: post-vecna, established steddie, whump, assault, injured steve, pistol-whipped, hospital, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

Summary: Steve's found by some men looking to pass Al Munson's drug debt on to his son.

But he'll die before he gives Eddie up.

___

“You ready to talk?”

The man’s leaning close to Steve’s ear, rancid breath filling his nostrils, his fist caked in blood.

Steve’s blood.

Steve gasps for air, bats at the man’s wrist again, kicks out futilely. He receives a boot to his leg for his efforts, the second man grunting at the force he puts behind it.

His head’s swimming. Distantly, he wonders just how many concussions a person can take before their brain just sort of…leaks out their ears.

Surely he’s almost at the brain leaking stage by now.

Blood dribbles from his mouth, sticks to his teeth.

“Where’s Eddie Munson?” The first man growls.

Steve keeps his mouth shut. He’ll never give up Eddie, certainly not to these lowlifes, these associates of Al Munson looking to pass a drug debt onto the jailed man’s son.

He’ll die first.

When he says nothing, there’s the tell-tale click of a gun being cocked.

Steve really thinks he might actually die tonight.

If no one walks past this back alley, he’s toast.

Cold metal presses against his temple. Lucidity grips him for a moment, and Steve squirms in the grip of the two men, trembling all over.

“No…no, you can’t…I don’t know where he is, I don’t.” It’s a lie. It’s a fucking lie but he can’t.

“I ain’t fucking playing,” the man spits out, pressing the handgun harder against the side of Steve’s head. “You’ve got about five seconds before I decorate these walls with your brain, pretty boy.”

Steve swallows. He tastes rust and salt, coughs as it goes down. Heart hammering, ears ringing, fingers scrabbling at the hand fisted at his collar.

He’s going to die. Here, in the pitch black, in the dankest, dirtiest alleyway in Hawkins, where Jonathan had once beat him to a pulp while his friends looked on.

His tongue darts out over his lips. The barrel of the gun’s against his head still.

He thinks of Eddie.

Of cracked lips and gentle hands, long curls and pale skin that Steve loved to touch.

He’ll die before he gives him up.

In a moment of defiance, he locks eyes with his attacker.

The man curses, raises his hand, and whips the butt of the pistol across Steve’s face.

Steve’s head is slammed to the side at the force, his cheek immediately wet with blood where the skin parts.

“Last chance.” The man spits at the ground beside him, and then the gun’s lowered in front of Steve’s face again.

The world’s a blur in front of him. Steve blinks sluggishly, listens to his pulse pounding in his ears.

Eddie would be home from work by now. He’d be at the cabin by the lake, where he and Steve had been staying after…everything. They’d just wanted some peace in the wake of Vecna, away from the prying eyes of the Hawkins townsfolk, the ones that still blamed Eddie for everything that had happened to the town.

Steve was going to cook dinner for the two of them.

He’d been halfway through when he realized they didn’t have any butter, had driven back into town to buy some. It lay beside him now with the rest of the last-minute groceries he’d grabbed scattered on the filthy concrete. Even when he’d been jumped in the empty parking lot, he’d kept hold of his bag, too shocked to drop it until they’d slammed him up against the wall in the alleyway.

Eddie would be worried, he’d be wondering where Steve was, he’d come looking…

Steve hopes someone else finds him, after. Anyone but Eddie.

“Fuck you,” Steve slurs, with the last of his strength.

The man’s expression hardens.

Steve’s eyes drift close, and he waits for death.

Instead, there’s the wailing of a siren several blocks over.

The other man, the younger one who’d been sending the other nervous looks the whole time, lets go of Steve. He slumps sideways, lacking the strength to stay sitting upright.

“We gotta go,” the younger man urges.

“Nah, he’ll break,” the elder scoffs.

“That’s the fucking police.”

“They’re still a ways off. Probably doing something else.”

“I’m out, man.” The younger one backs away, turns on his heel, and runs.

The older man swears. The siren gets louder, and Steve thinks he can see red and blue lights in the distance, but maybe it’s just his injured brain firing on all cylinders.

“We’ll be back,” he hisses at Steve, kicks him one last time for good measure, and then he’s gone.

Steve sucks in a breath. Winces as everything hurts, his ribs and his stomach and his face all on fire.

He needs to move. Needs to get out to the road where someone might see him, because there’s no way he’s going to make it back to his car.

A whimper escapes from between clenched teeth as he braces against the wall.

He thinks of Eddie.

Shoves himself to his feet, one arm looped against his stomach protectively. His ribs crunch, and he knows there’s broken bone there, cracked under the onslaught of savage kicks the men had delivered to his sides.

It starts to rain.

And that, on top of everything else, has Steve almost breaking out into hysterical laughter. Because of course it’s fucking raining, just when he’d thought his night couldn’t get any worse. Rain mixes with the blood on his face, leaving watery streaks, and Steve slips and staggers his way across the concrete, past the butter turning to a damp mess, past the carton of eggs smashed across the ground.

Several times, he ends up on his knees, everything spinning.

But slowly, every inch of him screaming in agony, he makes it to the road.

There’s a patrol car up ahead, the siren cut now but the lights still flashing on the roof, reflecting off the rain falling.

Steve’s shirt is soaked through as he hobbles towards the car.

“Help,” he tries to call out, but it comes out as a croak, blood spilling out behind it.

He stumbles again, sobs, scrabbles against the concrete with ragged nails and forces himself upright again.

There’s a familiar figure in front of him, hauling some drunk guy to his feet, waving him away from a storefront.

Hopper.

Steve’s crying in relief now.

“Hop,” he rasps.

The chief turns. His eyes go wide, and he runs to Steve, catching him before he can fall again.

“Steve? What the hell happened?”

Steve’s mumbling into Hopper’s chest, he’s trying to tell him, but his tongue’s heavy in his mouth and his words are all merging together.

“In the car, come on,” Hopper’s telling him, guiding him to the passenger seat of the patrol car and easing him in.

Steve leans against the door, shivering, distantly aware of Hopper saying something, but then his eyes are falling closed and he slips into darkness.

*****

He wakes to a steady beep.

There’s a hand on his, warm and familiar.

He’d know it anywhere.

Slowly, he cracks open one eye, then the other.

Eddie’s beside him. He’s pale, bags under his eyes, his bottom lip gnawed to shit, but he perks up now.

“Stevie? Sweetheart, can you hear me?” He squeezes Steve’s hand.

Steve goes to speak, but no sound escapes his raw throat. Instead, he nods, his head feeling heavy and stuffy.

“Steve, I’m so sorry.”

Eddie’s crying.

Steve hates that he’s crying. Hates that he’s the reason for Eddie’s tears.

“Don’t cry,” Steve whispers, his throat rattling. He feels the unmistakable tug of stitches on his cheek when his mouth moves, feels tender skin stretch and flex under bruises.

Eddie only cries harder, scootching his chair closer, forehead finding Steve’s chest and resting there lightly.

“Hopper told me, he said he could barely make out what you said but he heard men, and drugs, and you said my name…Stevie, they wanted me, didn’t they?”

“I didn’t tell them anything,” Steve slurs, “promise.”

“Baby, I don’t…I don’t care about that, I’m worried about you!” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, swipes at the tears across his face, before taking Steve’s hand again. “You’ve got two broken ribs, a serious concussion, and two lots of stitches in your head. You…you could’ve died.”

Steve’s feeling…fuzzy. He recognizes the warm, soupy sensation of painkillers pumping steadily through his veins, knows without them he’d probably be feeling a whole lot worse than he is now.

He reaches a hand up, paws at the air a couple of times before it finally settles where he wants it, on the back of Eddie’s head, soothing over his curls.

“S’ok,” he mumbles, “I’m ok. Gonna…gonna make you dinner. When I’m outta here. Promise.”

Eddie splays a hand across Steve’s stomach, tears soaking into the crisp white sheet on the hospital bed.

“No, you’re not,” Eddie tells him softly. “When you’re out of here, I’m going to look after you. Gonna make you your favourite meals, I’ll fucking…spoon feed you, I’m not letting you out of bed until you’re completely healed.”

“Sounds fun,” Steve drawls, halfway to sleep because Eddie’s here, he’s warm and his voice is soothing and he’s safe.

“I love you,” Eddie whispers, “so fucking much.”

“Love you too,” Steve slurs out, and then he’s asleep again, secure in Eddie’s arms.

___

[lanadelnegan]

Hey, I love your writing it’s so good you truly are a phenomenal writer. Anyways, I was wondering if you could do a gym teacher negan x female reader. (She’s a senior about to graduate and she’s been flirting with her teacher and they both feel the same way for each other and one day he decides to break the tension and things just get steamy. Btw I literally adore that you use a daddy kink (you are so real for that). Thank you so much :)

omg thank you so so much!!! and god this sounds insanely hot. i'm such a whore for teacher negan.

Crush - Part 1

Gym Teacher Negan x Female Reader

read part two here

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, *reader is 18*, you catch Coach Negan masturbating, angst, teasing, flirting, sexual tension, teacher x student, part 2 will be 99% smut

Song inspo: Crush by Ethel Cain

"Ya gonna miss me when I graduate?" You ask, reaching for a piece of candy from the bowl on Negan's desk. Class started five minutes ago, but both of you have a tendency to be late.

Negan has been your gym teacher since junior year and the two of you have grown closer over the past two years than any teacher and student should. It's hard to fight the crush you've developed for him, considering his charming sense of humor, ridiculously good looks, and most importantly - how much attention he gives you.

His eyes trail away from his computer screen as he stands, coming around the desk beside you. "Is there a reason you're not in your gym clothes, miss y/l/n?"

"What? You don't like this?" You tease, looking down at your outfit. Your usual attire consists of some jeans and a t-shirt, but this is your last week of high school, so you decided to spice it up and wear a short blue sundress today.

Negan glances down at your body, letting his gaze linger on your breasts for a moment too long as he stands tall in front of you.

"It's a little inappropriate, wouldn't you say so? .... You tryna get some high school boy's attention?" His head tilts waiting for your answer.

"I wouldn't say boy." You take a bite of the unwrapped mini snickers bar in your hand before smirking at him.

"Oh?" His brows raise playfully. "A girl then?"

"No.. gym teacher." You say barely above a whisper as you smoothly lick some of the chocolate off your bottom lip. Your cheeks turn a light shade of pink at your own words.

You've become much bolder since you turned 18 last month, and you aren't missing the opportunity to spend every second flirting with Coach Negan before school is out.

The corner of his mouth raises into a knowing smirk as he stands closer to you, intoxicating you with the scent of his musky, sporty cologne.

"You want my attention, doll? Ya gotta try harder than that." He snatches the candy bar from your hand before popping it into his own mouth and leaving you standing alone in his office.

His loud voice from the gym echoes through the hallway as you make your way to the locker room, replaying his words in your head and changing into your tiniest pair of shorts.

You want my attention? Ya gotta try harder than that.

You tie your hair up in a high ponytail in the mirror, noting the way your oversized shirt and shorts barely cover your ass before giving yourself a pep talk.

"Y/l/n, nice of you to finally join us." He yells as you enter the gym.

You roll your eyes nonchalantly before finding your spot on the court and beginning your stretches.

Negan walks up and down the rows of students as you all stretch and music flows through the speakers of the gym. There's no denying he's the coolest P.E. teacher you've ever had. Not even counting his looks.

When he reaches your space, he makes a point to roam his eyes up and down your body as you stretch. You stare back at him, grinning at the effect you seem to have on him. You can't help but notice the way his dick bounces behind his gym shorts as he walks and you mentally thank the gods that he chose not to wear underwear today.

Your body bends side to side as you stretch, not taking your eyes off of him as he gets closer to you.

"You can do better than that." He whispers lowly.

You're not sure if he's referring to your stretching or his comment from earlier... Ya gotta try harder than that.

Either way, you take it as a challenge and bend over right as he's passing you, touching the tips of your fingers to your toes. Your head turns slightly behind you to see his reaction but he's not looking which only makes you groan with frustration.

"Lucky for you kids I happen to be in a fuckin' good mood today, so rest of class is free time. Just don't get too loud and make me regret it." Negan announces to the class and everyone spreads out, immediately finding their friend groups and beginning various activities.

Unfortunately for you, your only friends in that class are a small group of girls on the volleyball team, and they always play together during free time, leaving you to fend for yourself. You don't mind though because your favorite teacher always keeps you busy.

"Heads up." Negan tosses a basketball in your direction and you catch it easily. "Shoot with me?" He asks.

"Around the world or horse?" You ask, letting him choose which game to play.

"Horse, duh." He answers without hesitation.

"Okay, but let's make it interesting." You suggest and his head tilts curiously. "Every letter you get, I get to ask you a personal question. Like truth.. but with basketball." I explain and he nods his head in agreement.

"You mean.. I get to ask you the questions, since I'll be the one winning." He grins, taking the ball from your hand and shooting smoothly from the free throw line. The ball swishes the net with ease and you roll your eyes at his cocky smile.

"Anyone can make a free throw." You shoot the ball, hitting the rim as it bounces off.

"Apparently not anyone." He laughs and you give him the evil eye. "Oh, right! Question. Let's see, I'll start easy. Got any crushes at school?" He teases.

You giggle, watching him shoot from the next spot and miss.

"Yes." You answer simply.

He catches his rebound, passing you the ball. "Well, who is it?"

"Nope. That's two questions." You dismiss him, shooting and making it in the basket.

He nods his head sarcastically at your response. "That's how it's gonna be, huh?"

He lobs the ball in the air towards the basket, missing clearly on purpose and you look at him confused. "What the hell was that?"

He shrugs, widening his eyes playfully. "I missed. Ready for my question."

You giggle as you think of a question. "Do you have any crushes at school?"

"That would be highly inappropriate miss y/l/n."

"That's not an answer."

He chuckles before shooting and making it again. "...Yeah, I do."

Your cheeks burn at his answer, but you don't get your hopes up too much knowing it could be anyone, even another teacher.

The game continues back and forth as you and Negan ask each other questions. He shoots the final shot, missing and purposely letting you win.

"So, what's my final question, kid? Make it a good one."

"Do you ever.. think of me.. in that way?" You ask bravely, knowing you might not get another chance like this one.

"In what way?" He asks innocently, resting his hands on his hips.

You blush, not wanting to say it, so you don't. "Nothing, forget it."

He looks down at you with a more serious than playful expression now and you wish you could read his mind.

"Okay. If you say so." He shrugs, throwing the ball down and walking away towards the hall to his office. "I let you win by the way." He calls out before disappearing.

You mentally curse yourself for not asking him but it's too late, so you make your way back to the locker room, wanting to get dressed before everyone comes back in.

You change out of your sweaty clothes before slipping your dress on with nothing underneath since your sweat soaked through your panties and bra. You feel even more exposed than earlier considering your dress barely reaches three inches below your ass cheeks.

You study yourself in the mirror as his words echo in your mind again like a broken record.

You want my attention? Ya gotta try harder than that.

You don't want to miss out on another opportunity with him, knowing your time with him is running out, so you grab your things and saunter down the hall to his open office, stopping at the doorway before entering.

Negan's attention is focused on his computer screen as he speaks. "Can I help you, doll?"

You ignore his question, bravely walking over to him before shutting the door behind you and leaning your backpack against the wall. You join him on the other side of the room, standing before him as he sits in his chair looking up at you. Chills cover your body when your bare ass touches the surface of his cold wooden desk.

His brows scrunch at your sudden boldness as he moves his chair back slightly, allowing space between the two of you. "What are you doing, y/n?" He asks but it comes out as more of a warning.

"Getting your attention" You place your bare feet on each side of his thighs in the chair, spreading your legs in front of him and shuttering as the cool breeze brushes your exposed pussy. "Do you ever think about me... like this?" You ask, finishing your question from earlier.

The look on his face is unreadable as his eyes drop to your center.

"You wanna know what I think about, y/n?" His voice turns to a raspy whisper. "I think about how tight that little pussy must be...how those pretty lips would look wrapped around my cock." His dark, heavy eyes lift to meet yours and you've never seen them so blown with lust before. "What you'd sound like begging for me to fuck you. How sweet you probably taste.." His eyes drop to your pussy again as his top teeth cover his bottom lip. "And then.. I come to my damn senses and realize I can't fuckin' risk my whole career for some pussy."

Ouch. Your eyes water at his sudden change of words.

Your heart stings at the rejection as you cover yourself quickly and climb off his desk. The end of day bell rings just in time to dismiss you as you head for the door.

"Y/n, wait." He sighs.

But you keep walking, leaving him behind like he did to you earlier. That's the last time he's going to make you feel like a fucking idiot. You tell yourself, frustrated that you let his mixed signals get to you.

"Goddamn it. Some pussy? The hells wrong with me." Negan whispers to himself, sliding a frustrated hand down his face as he leans back in his chair.

He feels terrible for making you feel that way, but he reminds himself it was for your own good. He knows you're about to go off to college, and the last thing he wants is for you to go catching feelings for your someone you can't have.

As a consequence of his good intentions, his cock aches painfully in his shorts while he stares blankly at the empty desk you sat on only minutes ago.

The sounds of students dismissing for the day are long gone as he realizes he's finally alone.

Fuck it. He says to himself before opening his desk drawer and pumping some lotion in his hand. He pulls his heavy cock out of his shorts, immediately gripping it in his hand and stroking it desperately.

His head falls back against his chair as he groans out, imagining your legs spread open in front of him once again.

His hand works his cock up and down, focusing on the sensitive tip as his eyes shut tight. He gathers his leaking precum with his thumb, working circles around the tip, wishing it was your lips instead.

A deep groan escapes his throat as he reaches his climax, spraying his load all over his white t-shirt. "Fuuuck, y/n." His eyes drift open when he moans your name, instantly connecting with yours as you stand from the doorway, watching him get off to the thought of you.

"I forgot my backpack."

Part 2 here

[vqtkufi]

ETHEL CAIN 240125 Trascript 0:00-15:05

I have written this transcript word for word, so it is most definitely not 100% accurate. I have tried to do the rest of the audio, and though i do have some notes and phrases, I can’t help but feel that its meant to be listened to and felt rather than read and processed. I didn’t want this section to go to waste so, enjoy :)

 “Hello, my name is Hayden Anhedönia, and you’re listening to NTS radio. I think i am going to die soon.”

“I don’t know why I have this feeling every so often where i remember, i remember four yeas ago walking and, and and i was saying something to a friend of mine and she was, she was asking me…I don’t remember. But, i told her i was scared and then she wanted to know why, she couldn’t fathom it. I just told her i feel like I’m gonna die soon, and I didn’t really have more words to put it into but, but i was there. I was there and I’ve always had this vision about holding someone in my arms while they die. I don’t know if, I don’t know if it’s me or, I don’t know. *indistinct voice from phone* what? Do you ever wonder that? *indistinct voice*”

 “i always imagine there’s  a pretty, pretty field of flowers. And in there yellow, or maybe orange and there, *mumble* on a hillside… i want to die staring at the blue sky, if that’s alright. if ,if that’s alright. And my, i wanna, I don’t know what i want.  I don’t know what i want. *indistinct voice* I don’t know what i want. I feel like i, i, i wanna dig a hole and i wanna, i wanna crawl down or through the hole and i wanna go somewhere. It’s like i can feel it, i can feel it. On the other side of the wall or in the floor, i wanna put my hands on the ceiling and i wanna, i wanna rise up. Push my body against it, i wanna be close to it. I wanna know what i can fit inside. And i wanna throw up. I wanna be sick. *indistinct voice*. i wanna get on the floor, and i, i need it to be dark. I don’t want people to look at me. I don’t want people to look at me. I want you to listen but I don’t want you to look at me. Mm. Then i want to put my hand on my chest and i want to feel my heart, and its beating too fast and i wanna get scared. And there’s a man and, and he’s watching me. And he’s watching me. I wanna.. i wanna. And i can see his, i can see the outline of his head and of his shoulders but I can’t see his face. I can’t see his face. *groans*”

“I was, In my room when i was, when i was two when the door locked and my mom and my daddy couldn’t get in. And they couldn’t get in and they said, they said they said they wanted to know who he was and that he was there on the hill and i tried. I tried to crucify myself, but I couldn’t go through with it. God said it was inappropriate. It was in poor taste. It was wrong. *indistinct voice* i know. He came to tell me. He said don’t, don’t run and they *mumbles* don’t  fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up. But you can’t fuck it up. oh i fucking hate you. You’re so fucking stupid. You’re so fucking stupid. That’s what he says. And i know it. I know it. And he’s in here with me. He’s always in here with me. He was in Alabama with me. And he hit her and i watched him and i watched him hit her, and i watched his hand and he came into my room, and he came into my room. He’s always coming into my room. Fuck. And I think he’s an angel. I think he’s an angel. *mumble* and i get so tired. I get so tired. Im so tired. Oh god. Im so tired. Im so tired. Oh my god. *groans* And i want him to touch me, i do. I still want him to touch me i want it to be real.”

[chelseeebe]

mercy on me

18+. no smut but minors are not welcome on my blog. themes of fighting and violence. eddie munson x fem!reader. no use of y/n!

a/n: hey all!! i don’t think i really like this on reflection but it has been a couple weeks since i last posted so wanted to squeeze something out before my life gets crazy<3 shoutout to the person on tiktok that made an edit of eddie to strangers by ethel cain bc that’s what spurred this entire thing

eddie’s addicted to the pain, the sting of the punches, the utter thrill of it all. but maybe it’s time for him to realise that that wasn’t the only thing worthwhile to him.

eddie tries to live a good, clean cut life, he’s got a nice job that pays pretty well for hawkins, basically has full reign of the trailer now that wayne has a girlfriend, and shit, he’s even got friends. but something, some terrible voice in his head, keeps him coming back to this.

stood circling the burly man, wondering when, not if, he’ll end up on the floor.

it comes quicker than expected, a fist to the stomach knocks the air from his lungs, doubling over in pain.

eddie doesn’t let him knock him down without a fight completely, throwing a jab at his opponents chin.

only to be quickly forgotten by the man’s fists connecting with his jaw and the searing pain rushing through his face.

the floor is cold, the ceiling just as eddie remembers it.

the kids carry him back to the trailer park, holding his weight on their spindly little bodies.

erica pounds her tiny fist on the door, a routine he’s done a thousand times over, waiting for the disgruntled, yet completely gentle face to appear on the other side.

you do, as expected, groan when your eyes lay on the bloody mess that was his face, ushering them inside and rushing to find your abused supplies.

eddie staggers in, heading straight for the sink to spit the metallic liquid that had gathered in his mouth. clutching onto his ribcage as the kids stand watching. he finally collapses onto the couch, sinking into the cushions with a guttural groan.

“jesus christ,” you remark, trundling him over to the sofa, “what’s wrong with you?” dabbing the cold fabric on his eye, a stern frown on your face.

“you should see the other guy,” he chuckles, quickly interrupted by a sharp hissing sound, your usually timid fingers brush over his wounds, harshly this time.

you knee his legs apart, sliding in between to get closer to his face. eddie loves it, no one had ever been so tender and careful with him before. using your time to care for him. it was perhaps the most intimate he’d ever been with anyone.

“i don’t wanna see you in here again,” running your thumb over his split lip, “you gotta stop doing this.”

“what? you don’t like me visiting?” looking up at you with your damn chest in his face, smirking only slightly so you wouldn’t see and scold him further.

“i’d rather you came to visit me without any blood on your face.”

your hand trails down to his neck, rubbing the tiny lilac marking on his collarbone that really could be either or.

“who’s the lucky lady?” you remark, full of sarcasm and what eddie hopes is a hint of jealousy.

his hand travels up, resting above your fingers still lingering on the mark, “you, if you want,” brazen in his flirting, ignoring the two kids still stood in your living room.

your eyes roll back, snatching your hand away to continue cleaning his lip. though he thinks he sees a hint of a smile, buried deep somewhere beneath your disgust and annoyance.

“alright,” you sigh, throwing the last bloodied cloth onto the pile on the table, “all done,” stepping from between his legs to tidy the mess he’d inadvertently made.

“thank you,” he says, with all sincerity, “no one else is gonna look after my good looks like you do,” quirking his lips to the side in a brazen smirk.

you scoff, throwing the bloodied cloths into the trash, “you’d be more good looking if you stopped getting your ass beat.”

and maybe one day he will, all this fighting has to pay off somehow. eddie’s just waiting for the day he remembers to also block punches, not just give them.

-

eddie’s just about to venture over when he sees you rushing out of the door, slinging your bag hastily over your shoulder as the door bangs shut.

“where are you going in such a rush?” he calls, sauntering over without a care in the world.

“school, i’m late,” speed walking past him to the bus stop that sat just outside the entrance.

“wait, i can drive!” producing his keys to jangle about in the air.

you stop, turning on your heel before nodding, “yeah, you can actually,” bounding over to his beat up van.

eddie slides into the drivers seat, knowing he’ll probably be late to work for this, but he doesn’t mind.

you drop your bag on the floor, sitting impatiently in the passenger seat, “i’m really late,” looking at the watch on your wrist, “so if you could drive as fast as you can, that’d be great.”

“yes ma’am,” he laughs, not like he didn’t owe you much more in compensation anyway.

you turn his music down which normally eddie would hate, but it’s you and there’s not a chance he’d ever cross the one person still kind enough to look after his dumb ass.

his tires screech, pulling up outside the tiny community college that sat just outside hawkins. once upon a time, eddie had planned to go there, learn something useful for once. but high school hadn’t been easily done, being held back from graduating once or twice had squashed any dreams of ever going to college.

“what time d’you finish?” he asks as you collect your things, not wanting to hold you any longer.

“my last class is at five,” you rush, hopping out of the van.

“i’ll come get you,” reaching over to open the door for you, “five,” echoing your words.

you pause, looking back at him before nodding, “alright.. see you later,” slamming the door shut with your hip before you scurry off into the building.

eddie sits, watching you disappear before the sudden realisation that he was now also really fucking late dawns on him.

-

sure enough, he’s parked outside at five on the dot. talking his way out of staying any later to make sure he was here when you got out.

you look exhausted walking through the crowd, slightly shocked to see him waiting though it quickly extends to a smile. grateful to not have to squeeze onto the rusting bus alongside everyone else.

he reaches over, opening the door before you get the chance, dumping your bag on the floor and releasing the most exhausted sigh he’s ever heard.

“good day?” eddie asks wearily, unsure of whether to even go there or not.

you hum, “not really.”

“wanna talk about it?”

“nope.”

turning to flash him a tight-lipped smile, elaborating no further.

eddie doesn’t dare push it, “alright.. y’hungry?”

your eyes narrow, turning his radio down once again, “only if you’re paying.”

he nods, cackling as he starts the engine.

a free meal was the least of what he owed you.

-

it takes everything in him not to just sit across from you and stare. you usually crossed paths in extenuating circumstances but now he has the chance to actually get to know you. noting the tiny cross necklace that sat on your chest, the pins on your bag and the way your name is scrawled over the front of all your books.

it’s endearing in a way. he’d put you on some kind of pedestal, this holy being that cured all his ails only to find that really you were just like him. with messy handwriting and tattered clothes.

eddie had lived at the park for years before you ever moved in, turning up one day a few years back with nothing but a small suitcase and the clothes on your back.

your grandmother owned the trailer you now lived in, the sweetest old woman that always seemed to have candy to spare, or a cigarette if things were really bad for him.

you’d taken it over when she died, with really nowhere else to go and a blossoming nursing career, you’d had no other choice.

he admired you, from afar at first, too in awe to say anything until you were practically forced into tending to his wounds.

as much as you grumbled, he could tell you didn’t really mind all that much. caring was just in your nature, which couldn’t be said about many people in hawkins.

“where’s wayne nowadays? i don’t see him much anymore,” unashamedly reaching over to steal his fries.

“he’s got this fancy new girlfriend up in loch nora,” pushing his plate towards you, “spends most of his time there,” shrugging it off, eddie preferred the quiet if he was honest.

“oh. well, must be nice on your own.. can do whatever you want,” raising your brows.

he knows what you’re hinting at but he doesn’t really know why. surely it was not only obvious to you but also to everybody else in the room that he’d jump at the opportunity to be with you.

“hm.. i guess,” leaning over to talk directly to you, complete tunnel vision, “there’s this one girl though,” clicking his tongue, “she keeps ignorin’ me and like.. i drive her to school.. take her out for dinner.. still nothin’,” hoping maybe now you’ll have got the hint.

“oh yeah?” quirking your brow, “she sounds nice, you’ll have to introduce us,” sitting back against the booth.

“i think you’d like her, i know i do.”

you don’t honour him with a response, rolling your eyes like you always did when he’d pushed his luck too far.

instead, you take his hand into yours, pulling it closer to inspect his bruised but healing knuckles, “they look better.. you’re not fighting again are you?”

eddie shakes his head, “not this week.”

you drop his hand though your fingers still linger around his, “i know you don’t care but i really hate that you do this..” swallowing harshly as your eyes meet, “you’re so much better than that,” with full sincerity, “if you ever want me to take you seriously, you have to stop that shit.”

he blinks, a harsh truth that perhaps he needed to hear. the club had been something he’d fallen into as a juvenile teen, a way to express his rage at the world without ending up in jail. it had escalated from there to what it is now, a humiliation ritual that occasionally lead to an extra couple hundred dollars in his pocket.

“yeah,” eddie gulps, “yeah. it’s enough, i get it,” shrinking in defeat. he wanted that more than anything, for you to look at him without that dismaying gleam just once.

he was getting older, bruises didn’t heal as fast as they once did, his bones ached and his head pounded for days. on top of all that, he wanted you to see him as something other than the dope that stumbled to your door.

if giving up fighting was all he had to do to get that, then he’d do it.

your lips curl, smiling gently over the empty plates, “plus, you’re so much better looking without a black eye,” dropping his hand to lean back in your chair all smug.

now he doesn’t want to get too cocky, but knowing, hearing, that you were even remotely interested in him was enough to boost his ego higher than any petty fight ever could have.

-

“you comin’ tonight?” tommy laughs, lighting his cigarette. they stand in the courtyard of the garage, sun beaming down on eddie’s tired shoulders, he just wants to get home so that he can contemplate maybe sneaking over to your trailer later.

“ah.. no,” shaking his head, rubbing his oily hands on his jeans instead of the rag in his back pocket. your words echoing in his otherwise empty head, he deserved better, he was better than this.

“thousand dollars on the line tonight man.. be a shame if you missed it,” tommy pushes, knowing exactly what he’s doing.

shit.

a thousand fucking dollars.

he could take you somewhere real nice with that, god knows you deserved it. maybe he could help with your school bills, books or something.

“shit..” eddie inhales, your words suddenly seeming pretty inconsequential now, “against who?” slotting his own cigarette between his lips.

“new guy, billy something,” tommy shrugs, “i think you’ve got a pretty good chance you know?” goading him further, really leaving him no other option but to accept.

eddie puckers his lips, contemplating whether it’d be worth it to piss you off again. at least when he stumbled in, he’d have a thousand dollars to soften the blow.

fuck it.

best case scenario, he’d be grovelling for your forgiveness with a thousand bucks in hand. worst case scenario? well. probably best not think about that.

“alright, shit.. i’ll be there,” already willing to bet that he’ll be eating his words later, too far gone to really care anyway.

-

eddie more than eats his words. damn near swallowing his teeth by the time he’s helped up from the floor.

billy, as he had learned, was not one to be messed with. on reflection, eddie hadn’t ever really stood a chance against him and maybe if he’d thought for a little longer than two seconds, he wouldn’t now be dropping in and out of consciousness.

erica does her usual pounding of fists on your door, though this time her worry is palpable, making even eddie fear for how his face must look.

you open the door, looking exhausted, too tired to deal with his shit after a long day at school.

“what’d you do?” taking his weight from the two kids holding him up, “what the fuck? you told me-,”. cutting yourself off, not allowing yourself to get too angry in front of the petrified looking children.

you sit him down on the couch, moving faster than he’d ever seen you before.

dabbing the cotton on his face with a quiet, disappointed sigh. you look more hurt than anything else, like all your well meaning words had meant nothing to him.

“oh god eddie, this is really.. this is bad,” pressing the cold cloth to his bloodied cheek bone. you look back towards the ragtag kids that had dragged him here for the hundredth time, “you two get going.. it’s late and i don’t want your mom at my door again,” still patting the sore area. they didn’t need to see you patch him up yet again.

lucas and erica nod along in synchronicity, shuffling towards the door with the heads hung back towards eddie, “is he gonna be okay?” wary to leave him in such a state.

you nod, smiling softly at the two, “he’ll be okay.. promise,” shooing them off, “i’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

they nod, hesitant to leave though they do eventually trail out of the door, leaving you and him alone.

rather quickly, your smile becomes a scowl, tilting his chin up towards you without so much as a word. you were pissed, eddie could sense that much.

“hey..” squeezing his eyes shut as the sharp sting of the cloth prods his eye, “i’m sorry,” his words small and defunct now. not sure how else he can truly convey his feelings, apologies running on deaf ears.

you don’t reply, purposefully not meeting his eye despite his desperate attempt to just get you to look at him.

“yesterday i told you that i couldn’t take you seriously until you stopped this and now..” exhaling angrily, “were you even listening to me?”

“yes,” eddie nods, “i was,” hissing through his teeth at the sharp sting in his cheekbone, he’d be lucky if nothing was broken. your words had resonated so much so that they rang through his ears as he lay on the cold floor.

you sigh again, the same sigh wayne used to give him when he’d arrive home in the back of a cop car. making clear your thorough disappointment in him.

he doesn’t speak again, allowing you to sort the mess that was his face out before he ruined whatever slim chance he still had. he would t blame you if you turfed him out this instant, never to speak to him again.

silently going about your routine, a pitiful glint in your eye that he hopes he’ll never see again. if it wasn’t obvious before, it was crystal now.

“i’m trying to be good.. i am,” looking at you through hooded eyes. fuck, he hurt. not just his broken skin, but his chest ached. repeating the image of your hurt eyes again and again.

“i know,” you breathe, breath catching in your throat, “you are good, i know you are..” sighing softly, “you’re also stupid,” tracing your careful fingers over his cheek.

eddie wanted to do right by you more than anything, feeling like maybe that was actually possible now.

“i know it probably doesn’t help now..” he groans, gazing into your glassy eyes, “but i wanted to take you out with the winnings.. nice dinner or somethin’.”

you frown only grows further, “eddie.. i don’t want your money,” finally meeting his gaze just to glare angrily back at him.

his pathetic shoulders shrug, skin running cold as your fingers leave his face. the couch dips as you sit next to him, chewing on your bottom lip.

“i won’t do this again,” a serious, unsettling tone, “if you want to fight then you can, but you can’t come crawling back here every time..” reaching over to trace the cut in his lip, “i’m not gonna sit back and watch you almost die every week- not anymore.”

eddie nods, understanding now more than ever that this had to end. if not for his health, then for you. it’s not as if he liked narrowly avoiding death week in week out, it was the adrenaline. the only time in his life that felt worthwhile, drawing a crowd, people that wanted to see him, albeit to see him end up on the floor.

“i’m sorry,” meaning it, genuinely. “i know that you think i’m not serious about this but i am- really, i think you might just be the only person in the world who’s opinion i care about,” you were at least the first person to get through his thick skull.

“then start acting like it,” putting your hand over his bruised and bloodied knuckles, leaning over to touch his cheek again, tender movements that make him shiver.

eddie’s eyes break from yours for the first time this evening, descending to your lips almost on their own, “i really wanna kiss you,” mumbling into the abyss.

your thumb traces over his bottom lip, narrowly avoiding the still throbbing cut, “you can.. if you promise me that you’ll stop ruinin’ your pretty face for me.”

he nods, allowing you no time to back out before he leans in, clutching at your waist as your lips connect, eagerly pulling you closer with every last bit of energy he could muster.

the black wife beater is torn around the collar, exposing the purple tint to his chest, the dried blood that had wept down his neck. it doesn’t mean much now but eddie feels terrible that this is how he looked for your first kiss.

he was really in no position to be doing this, adrenaline pumping through his veins, mostly keeping him upright.

his body wants more, disappointed in himself for not being able to do this properly. after months of off-handed flirting and this was all he had to show for himself?

you’re doing all of the heavy lifting, fingers knotted into his loose, knotted bun, sighing softly as your lips lock. his chest instinctively knocking into yours, as you lean further back on the couch.

any other time and he’d have been clambering atop, doing everything he’d ever dreamed of. an unfortunate lead up of events that had left him too exhausted to treat you as you deserved.

if that weren’t enough incentive to get his shit together, he’s not sure what else ever would be.

you pull back, eyes drawn to the corner of the room, “grandma’s watching us.. i can’t,” falling into a fit of giggles as you nudge him back upright, eyes flitting to the portrait of your grandmother that hung on the wall.

his eyes follow, giving a strained laugh, clutching his ribcage as he does so, “ow fuck.”

“alright,” you stand, nodding down the corridor, “you can have my bed.. i’ll take the couch so i can keep an eye on you tonight,” stern but still confusingly comforting.

eddie stands, not without a chorus of complaints, shuffling after you to grab onto your fingers, “stay with me,” spinning you around gently.

you nod silently, bundling him up the corridor to your room. your trailer was a hell of a lot tidier than his, now that wayne was more of a passing guest than a resident, he’d really let the place go to shit.

he stops in the doorway, turning to face you with your fingers still interlocked, “thank you.. again,” running his thumb over the back of your hand, “i mean it.”

you nod, reluctant but still somewhat sincere, “please don’t prove me wrong about this,” your eyes a glaring warning, one he’d never forget.

there are no words in the english language to truly convey to you how badly he wanted, or needed, to prove you right.

so eddie just grips your fingers a little tighter, as much as his bruised knuckles allowed, leading you back into your room in silence, vowing to treat you as you deserved.

[haveyouanytime]

If requests are still open anything rust cohle pls!!

finally free from the shackles of online college courses… failed my polisci class but its okay bc x readers exist LOL!!! i’m so so so obsessed with beat-up old dog rust and lounging around an apartment with him and smoking a cigarette and being ethel cain core lol!!! this is all heavily inspired by ethel cain’s look in crush lol also i imagined rust’s apartment to look pretty close to his '95 one

౨ৎ daily click to help palestine 🍉

You originally found Rust in Alaska. You were waitressing at a shitty diner, and he caught your eye after he ordered a beer at 10 in the morning. He came back that night, and you found yourself in the backseat of his car, moaning his name you had only learned an hour before. 

Rust.  

After that, you couldn’t help but form a relationship. He had expected quick fun, but he didn’t mind that he couldn’t shake you loose. That’s how you ended up going with him back to Louisiana, ditching your thick socks for tiny shorts to lounge around Rust’s apartment in. 

It was small, rustic, and hotter than hell. Rust was prone on having little to no decoration or furniture, but you had added your own personal touch here and there. You didn’t need silver and gold, but a shared space that reflected you and Rust added a sense of domesticity you had searched for for years. 

You had the window open, a cigarette between your lips as you took languid, slow drags. In a pair of tiny, denim shorts and a bikini top, you rested your forearms against the windowsill, watching the dry and bright horizon as you waited for Rust to come home. He had a bad habit of sleeping in his storage unit, and you often wondered just what was in there, but you knew better than to bug him too much. 

You were putting out your cigarette in the ashtray when you heard the familiar jingle of keys in the doorway. The door opened, and you heard Rust before you saw him. A quiet groan, the heavy shuffle of boots, the door closing with a notable slam behind him. You turned, smiling with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you approached Rust. 

“Hey, you old dog.” You smiled, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. He lazily grabs your waist, his large hands kneading your soft, exposed skin. 

“Where’s the rest of your clothes, baby?” He asks with his gruff, drawled voice, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He was tired, his body aching from sleeping in a twin-sized cot in a cement room, his head throbbing with the endless papers and images of the case that haunted him every day. 

You smiled, a faux innocent shrug pulling up one of your shoulders. “S’not like Alaska here. It’s too hot for too many clothes.” 

He huffed at your response, giving a playful pinch to your waist with a half-done grin. “I’m gonna shower,” He grunted, a small sigh slipping past his lips, “then how about we go for some drinks?” 

You knew what that meant. He had work, and he was inviting you to sit in that dark dive with him as faceless customers shifted in and out. You didn’t mind, it was nice quality time to talk his ear off and learn little cryptic things about him as he responded. It was just as nice to watch him roll up his sleeves and groan as he cracked his neck and watch as the occasional liquid dripped from his lips as he drank, slowly rolling down his neck. You nodded, placing a kiss on his lips, feeling the familiar tickle of his mustache against your upper lip. 

As he showered, the bedroom filled with the constant rush of the running water and the croon of a singer playing from your radio. The cross that represented the death of sins hung above your shared bed, watching as you replaced your bikini top for a blouse. You had brushed through your hair and lit a cigarette as Rust came out from the bathroom, a towel hanging low from his lips. 

You watched with a coquettish gaze as he put on his briefs and a pair of blue jeans, an angelic haze effecting your vision of him as your cigarette burned between your lips. He groaned as he sat on the edge of the bed, craning his head from side to side in an attempt to soothe the tension that formed. With a smile, you grabbed your hairbrush and a loose hairtie, moving to sit behind him on your bed. You placed down the brush, grabbing his towel to begin drying his hair. 

You were a bit careless with it, rubbing the towel against his head in an attempt to dry his brown hair that turned shades darker with its wetness. He chuckled, grabbing the towel from your hands and swatting your side with it. 

“Gonna yank me baldheaded if you keep that up, baby.” He chuckled, watching as you squeaked with the wet fabric smacking against your skin. He tossed it on the bed, and you replaced it with your hairbrush. You removed the cigarette from your lips, leaning down to place it between Rust’s, which he accepted with no complaints. With a noticeable gentleness, you began to brush through his hair, smoothing any forming knots and scratching against his scalp in a relieving way. He couldn’t help but let his eyes flutter shut, a small groan slipping past his lips. You tied his hair into a ponytail at the nape of his neck and tucked loose strands of hair behind his ears, and his left hand reached up, taking your wrist in a gentle hold. 

“You’re the only good thing in this fucked up world,” He grunted, taking your hand and placing kisses on your fingertips. His right hand held the cigarette, the smoke dancing beside the two of you. 

You smiled, your fingers moving to cup his jaw, letting him place kisses onto your palm as you began to place your own gentle kisses onto his broad shoulder. Your free hand abandoned the hairbrush, your fingertips dancing along the intricate ink of the tattoo on his forearm. Another groan slipped past his lips with the smoke of the cigarette as your kisses slowly traveled up the curve of his neck. 

“Keep kissing me like that, pretty girl,” He drawled out, his right hand traveling behind to knead at the soft of your thighs, “‘n’ I might have to call in sick to work.” 

You smiled, placing one last kiss on his neck before answering, “I charmed my way into free drinks, you old dog. I’d like to get them.” You left a playful, light bite on his shoulder before crawling off the bed and walking out of the bedroom. 

“Brat.” He huffed, shaking his head with a smile as he stood to finish getting ready. He’d make you pay later, and you both knew it.

[innocent-artery]

hi i just came across your marauders playlist and i was wondering because theres a lot of different kinds of music in there which genre(s) you would associate with each marauder? idk if that makes sense

I think I get what you're saying! The marauders playlist is kind of a mixing pot because the boys are so different. I like to think of it as a joint playlist of theirs!

For James:

I see him adding the soft lovey dovey heartbreak songs. He would have adored Chappell Roan, beabadoobee, and Olivia Rodrigo

Also loser boy music like Wallows and Cage the Elephant

He loves 2000s metal, but only because Sirius introduced it to him

They would have made that the entire playlist if Remus didn't tell them that "no, I don't want to wind down for the night with four hours of Slipknot"

Also not so secretly adores Broadway

Queen is a must for him but that's kind of a collective agreement between everyone

For Sirius:

Who else is gonna add Lady Gaga. Come on now.

I think he and James actually have a big overlap in music taste despite having different aesthetics, ex. Sirius loves Olivia Rodrigo's more upbeat unhinged songs

He would have loved Avril Lavigne

There used to be Ayesha Erotica on the playlist until he got in trouble for blasting Emo Boy on loop at two in the morning

Like I said, 2000s metal. Deftones, Rob Zombie, Nine Inch Nails... the works

Alternative king, loves Fall Out Boy

Not that I think he would listen to these artists necessarily, but I think he'd resonate with Ethel Cain and Conan Gray

For Remus:

I don't see him adding a whole lot of songs because he doesn't have as opinionated of taste

I see him liking Red Hot Chili Peppers idk why

Some songs were added by Sirius because they reminded him of Remus and vice versa, although neither would admit it

He mainly enjoys classic rock I think! Van Halen, Led Zeppelin, Billy Joel, and Bon Jovi are all his contributions but the whole group loves them too

Secretly likes grunge because of Sirius

[ofthecaravel]

Heaven In Time

Chapter 1: Thoroughfare

Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Summary: Danny, en route to California to find love, picked up small town runaway Sam on a Texas thoroughfare and has been on the road ever since. While Sam adjusts to life as himself, Danny's wondering if he's found love without even leaving the South.

Tags: Religious trauma, mentions of homophobia, Anxiety, very sweet little crushes, idk all very soft when its not Tense

Words: 5.4k

A/N: HEAVILYYYYYY inspired by Thoroughfare by Ethel Cain, even borrowed a lyric here and there. Any and all credit to my beloved Hayden. First chapter of ??? maybe 4?? but I haven't decided. There's going to be more mention of Sam's questionable Southern Baptist Christian upbringing in those and I understand that may not be everyone's cup of tea so feel free to scroll if that may be upsetting for you.

~~

“Do you think we’re gonna get arrested?”

Over the gentle splash of the thin, chlorinated water, Sam heard Danny’s long sigh. Usually he laughed at all of Sam’s misplaced little comments and queries, but sometimes he just sighed. Sam knew he didn’t mean anything harsh by it, but it definitely didn’t feel good. 

“Not if you don’t say anything,” Danny answered plainly. A smile ghosted his tired face as he rotated to face Sam, who stared back as he awkwardly bobbed with his long hair trailing behind him like a veil. After however many dusty miles and state lines they’d crossed, it always felt good when they had a motel to crash at instead of the cramped cabin of Danny’s pickup. And it felt twice as good when the motel had a pool, especially when it was nice and late at night and there was no one else around. Sam wasn’t much of a swimmer, but he was happy to tread water and watch Danny float. His broad chest would peek just over the surface of the water and his eyes would close while his dark curls moved like the fingers of lazy clouds. 

Yeah, Sam was happy to watch that. 

“It doesn’t feel right,” Sam murmured, watching his fingers flex anxiously under the water in the refracted view the harsh fluorescents provided. With the country sky full of nothing but mosquitoes and the occasional whistling breeze, the yellowing pool lights were the only thing illuminating them. Sam felt suddenly self conscious thinking of how washed out he must look in this rare moment where he was the one being watched. He turned to the side, only offering Danny his profile. 

“They won’t know the credit card ain’t mine until we’re in Arizona,” Danny insisted in a hushed voice. “And even then, I didn’t give the desk my real name. We’re golden if you can keep that mouth of yours shut. Can you do that for me, cowboy?”

“Sure I can.” Sam bristled, but knew Danny’s request was justified. Ever since Danny had taken pity on him and picked him up on that thoroughfare back in Texas, Sam never seemed to be able to do the right thing. He had gotten as far as he had in an attempt to remove himself from the suppressing influence of his uber religious hometown, but so far it seemed like he was still dragging it along with him. It was an embarrassing first impression to leave on someone as great as Danny was turning out to be, but he hadn’t left Sam behind yet, so Sam figured he must have some redeeming qualities that kept him around.

“Atta boy,” Danny smiled, his eyes closing as he lolled his head back and drew in a deep breath of the cool night air. “Christ alive, I needed this. How long do you think we drove today?”

“5 hours?” Sam guessed, thinking back on the day. “Felt longer ‘cause of the sun.”

“Damn that sun,” Danny cursed. “Burned the hell out of my nose, too.”

“We can get lotion or something at the next gas station,” Sam offered. Truthfully, he found the ruddy blush on Danny’s nose and freckled cheeks extremely flattering, but he knew it had to hurt. Growing up in Alabama, Sam knew a thing or two about sunburn.

“With what money?” Danny laughed humorlessly, sighing again and running a hand over his face. “Although at this point, I’d be willing to skip a dinner to get my hands on some lotion. Mm. Not that I don’t appreciate your presence, but...” 

Sam blinked blankly, feeling an implication pass him by like they often did. He didn’t say anything in return and sank a little further into the pool, trying not to feel even more stupid than he already did. Being tired certainly wasn’t helping, but he was really starting to feel the weight of all of his graceless actions from the past week pile on him as they swam in silence. Hopefully Danny would want to head up to their room soon and Sam could just try again the next day.  

Danny noticed Sam’s silence and opened his heavy eyes to observe him with a worried look. Sam’s neck was craned and the sharp point of his nose grazed the water as he continued to stare into the palms of his submerged hands. He was halfway to prayer by the looks of it, and Danny guessed that probably wasn’t too far from the truth. It was a state of mind Sam never really seemed to leave. Danny remembered the scandalized look on Sam’s face when they’d shared their first diner meal together and Danny had picked his fork right up and gotten to work when the waitress had brought their plates. Now he knew to wait and let Sam save them with a quick round of grace before eating. Sam had never asked for his hand to hold when doing it, but somewhere between the Texas border and New Mexico, Danny had offered it up and they’d been doing it that way ever since. It sure made it a hell of a lot more tolerable for Danny to wait for Sam’s long winded recitations with his slender hand in Danny’s. He really didn’t mind too much, especially after he’d begun collecting little glimpses of the seemingly excruciating evangelical life that Sam had left behind in Alabama. Danny didn’t pry, but there was a lot about Sam that he didn’t know. He watched Sam lit up in the pale, shifting luminance coming from the pool and realized with a strange, absent pang that he wanted to know. Maybe all of it, actually.

“Not a star in the sky,” Danny commented dreamily, tilting his neck back to stare at the pitch black sky after another long minute of staring at Sam left him feeling flushed. “It was always easy to pick ‘em out when I was on the farm, but I really have to squint when I’m in cities sometimes. It’s a crying shame.”

“We had to have all the lights out in town at a certain time so I always got to see the stars,” Sam replied in a small voice. “My brothers were always looking for Castor and Pollux, but we got lost after finding Orion every single time. Always forgot whether to look up or down or west or what.”

Sam smiled at the memory, remembering watching his older brothers bicker in whispers in front of the window while pressing fingers to the glass and eventually calling Sam in for help. Their parents fell asleep fast and heavy, so nights were usually when he and his siblings really got to be themselves. Sam found himself tired during the days almost all the time, but he’d carried his drooping eyelids with a bounce in his step. Even on the rare instances when he dozed off during study or services, he’d take a ruler to the knuckles with a smile. 

“I’ve always been partial to Orion,” Danny agreed, searching it out as he said it. “Probably because it’s easy to find and I’m a simple man when it comes to stuff like that.”

“You’re plenty smart,” Sam complimented. He finally lifted his head from his gloomy stance, his ear resting on his shoulder as he turned his smile on Danny. “Especially with maps. We’d be halfway to Argentina if I were the one navigating.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all,” Danny laughed. “We can go there after we find love in California, how about that?”

“Perfect,” Sam complied, feeling a familiar sour rush of adrenaline when reminded of their end goal. It was ignorant to feel shocked over and over when he thought about it, especially considering that talk of Danny’s unknown Californian love were some of the first words Danny had ever said to him. Danny had pulled up next to Sam on the side of the road in his beat up pick up truck, told him not to run, and asked if he wanted to go see the West with him.

“‘Cause love’s out there,” Daniel had explained after Sam had hopped right in. “And I can’t leave it be.”

And Sam had agreed. Out of luck to spend and no more energy in his body to spend on walking, it was the perfect escape. It still was. It’s just that the more time he shared with Danny, the more he disliked the thought of Danny sharing time with anyone other than him. Sam was suddenly very sure he was greedy and selfish and wicked, and he made plans to pray on it after Danny had gone to sleep.

“Smart,” Danny echoed with an airy laugh, finally lifting his hair from the water and shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know about all that. If this were a movie, I’m pretty sure I’d be the muscle of the operation.”

“I guess that’d make sense. How much can you lift?” 

Danny gave Sam a mischievous look and shrugged, hoping the smirk creeping onto his face didn’t give away his plans for what he’d do next.

“Not sure,” Danny answered coolly. “How much do you weigh?”

Before Sam could respond, Danny rushed forward as fast as the water allowed and grabbed Sam around the waist, boosting him up with a noisy splash. Sam shrieked initially, but it gave way to a surprised laugh, every nerve alight with buzzing heat as Danny lifted him up. Danny could only manage to keep him up for another few moments before buckling at the knee from the close contact, allowing Sam a little time to plug his nose before Danny dunked him under.

Sam met the shifting blur of the pale water and felt a jarring, overwhelming peace as the water swallowed all sound and sensation and he began to sink to the bottom. For a second, he thought he might like to stay there forever, just floating and free from everything he didn’t understand about what was happening to him, what had already happened. What he wanted to happen. 

Sam didn’t even feel the sizzle of his lungs begging for air until he opened his eyes best he could and saw the blur of what was waiting for him up above.        

Now, Sam had obviously been far too young for him to remember his baptism, but as he brought himself back to consciousness and pushed himself out of the water and into Danny’s arms, he imagined it was a similar experience. Without really thinking, his arms went around Danny’s neck and he breathed in a great, shuddering gasp, desperately filling his chest with air as Danny’s arms reflexively wrapped around him and kept Sam pinned to his chest as he coughed.

“Fuck, Sam, did you forget to breathe?” Danny whispered urgently, resisting the urge to shout and wake the other motel patrons. “I mean, pardon my French, but you scared the shit out of me for a second there!”

“Sorry,” Sam choked out as he began to control his breathing and let it give way to an embarrassed laugh. “I got distracted for a minute.”

“Yeah, I’d definitely say you were coming up on a minute!” Danny sputtered, patting Sam’s back in a last ditch effort to knock any water loose. “I’ve never seen anyone go that long underwater. Good lord. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay, I promise,” Sam insisted, leaning back to flash Danny a sincere look of assurance. Curiously, he didn’t feel the need to unlock his arms from behind Danny’s neck when doing so. In the same way, Danny didn’t feel the need to release his grip on Sam, keeping their bare chests flush as Sam comically mimicked drawing in deep breaths and releasing them to demonstrate his capability.

“Fine, fine, I believe you,” Danny relented, despite the anxiety still fluttering in his chest. “Just don’t scare me like that again. I get nervous enough when you’re out of my sight, and now you’re telling me I gotta worry about you when you’re right in front of me? Phew.” 

“What do you mean you get nervous when I’m out of your sight?” Sam laughed, his dark brow crinkling inquisitively as his stomach gave a little flip. 

“Just worried you’ll get to wandering,” Danny replied with faux nonchalance. “Don’t want some lawless vagabond picking you off the street.”

“Ain’t that what you did?” 

Danny tossed his head back and let out a loud laugh, knowing he needed to be much quieter than he was but doing nothing to rectify it. Sam burst into a round of hushed giggles and attempted to put his hands over Danny’s mouth as he shushed him theatrically. They goodnaturedly tussled  for a minute before Danny finally let Sam go, pushing him back and looking away with a nervous laugh still running its course in his chest.

“I got enough law in me to keep an eye on you,” Danny continued on, flicking his wrist lightly to splash Sam. “Can’t have you leaving me to drive the rest of the way on my own.”

“Well, I only ever leave if there’s not much worth staying for,” Sam muttered. It wasn’t entirely true when considering the importance of what he’d left behind in favor of hitchhiking aimlessly in pressing Texan heat, namely his family. He felt guilty saying it, but Danny took his words with pillow softness. His laugh melted into a shy smile that fell on Sam like a kiss on the forehead. 

“Lucky me, I suppose,” Danny smiled, punching Sam gently on the shoulder. “I’ll do my best to make the rest of the trip worth staying for.”

“You won’t have to try too hard,” Sam replied sincerely. “I’m having a lot of fun so far.”

“Yeah?” Danny questioned with an amused arch of his eyebrow. “You’re having fun coughing up dust in the passenger seat of a beat up truck that doesn’t work half the time? You’re having fun having to share flat, suspiciously stained motel beds with some sorry hick you met two weeks ago?”

“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds terrible,” Sam laughed. “But it is fun. It’s the in-between stuff that’s fun.” 

“Like what?” Danny prodded, giving Sam another playful little splash. 

He asked without any real pressure, but there was a big part of Danny that really needed to know if he was making this spontaneous road trip a good time for Sam. It seemed a little ridiculous to some extent considering that when Danny set off, he wasn’t expecting any kind of lingering company in the slightest. At the end of the day, Sam was a borderline neurotic runaway that Danny had taken a chance on after some strange gut feeling had told him to take a left and not a right while driving aimlessly. But at the same time, Danny was really starting to like him. It both confused and warmed him.

“I don’t know!” Sam sputtered. “It’s always fun to look through gas stations for stupid knick knacks. That mood ring keychain was pretty cool, you have to admit.” 

Danny only laughed in response. The tacky keychain had pretty obviously been for kids, but with the way Sam’s eyes had lit up when he pressed his thumb to the heat reactive surface, Danny had found that fact the least important part of the equation.

“It’s fun when the diner menus have stupid names for the sandwiches,” Sam continued, feeling increasingly more embarrassed talking about himself. “And I definitely have fun when I get to listen to my station on the radio.”

“And you can continue to have that fun in half hour intervals,” Danny asserted, trying not to roll his eyes while recalling Sam’s beloved church music station. “Anything else?”

“Hmm. This is pretty fun,” Sam answered with a quick, impish shrug. “Even though you tried to drown me.”

“Hey!” Danny scoffed while Sam sailed into another round of delighted giggles. “I’ll show you drowning!”

Danny reached out and they wrassled again, a flurry of arms and bickering laughter as Danny pretended to try and dunk Sam under the water. Once again, Sam’s arms went around Danny’s neck as they struggled, and once again he made no move to remove them when Danny slowed. However, this time around, when Sam felt the careless adrenaline fueling him with a whisper of unknown courage, he seized it and gave Danny a quick kiss on the cheek. It was no more than 2 seconds of his lips on Danny’s slightly stubbled skin, but it struck Danny like a slap to the face. Sam released his grip on him and gave him a good natured smile. 

“Seriously, this is so fun,” Sam insisted. “But we’ll never sleep if we keep being rowdy. Bed?”

“Good thinking,” Danny replied a little too quickly, successfully fighting a quiver in his voice and letting out a silent, choked sigh when Sam turned his back on him and started making his way to the edge of the pool. Facing away from Danny allowed Sam a moment to let his innocent, grateful gesture sink in. He began to panic slightly, rushing out a hurried mental prayer that Danny hadn’t taken it the wrong way. Sam almost turned to apologize, but decided it would be more awkward if he did, instead electing to haul himself out of the pool and grab his towel as if nothing out of the ordinary was raging inside his head.

Meanwhile, Danny definitely wasn’t taking it the wrong way. But he was taking it in a very surprising way. Feeling sudden and immense guilt, he realized that he was really going to have to book it to the hook where his towel hung in order to cover the “reaction” he was having to Sam’s little kiss. Thankfully, he was able to make it without Sam seeing. Danny felt grateful for his Southern charm when Sam finally did turn his doe eyed smile back on him and Danny was able to steer their conversation in a new direction as they walked to their room and he kept his towel tightly wound around his waist.

-

But neither one of them really recovered from it. Something so small and instantaneous weighed heavily in the back of their minds as they went about their separate nighttime routines and turned away from each other when Danny turned the light off. 

After an infuriating hour of staring up at the flaking ceiling and listening to the muffled whistle of a keening wind outside the window, Sam finally heard Danny begin to snuffle and sigh, signifying sleep. He released a pent up sigh and rubbed a hand over his eyes as he tried to manifest sleep. A few hours prior he had been nearly nodding off at dinner, but now that he was alone in the inviting dark with Danny, it was hard to keep his eyes closed. Usually he whispered himself to sleep with psalms that lulled him into a fuzzy, dreamless void, but it felt wrong to do so with the imagery pervading his mind. None of it was graphic, simply a replay of how it felt to float in Danny’s arms. And how safe he felt with Danny’s hand on his back. How the feeling of his mouth on Danny’s cheek made him wonder how it would feel if it were the other way. How it would’ve felt if Danny had picked that moment to turn slightly, causing Sam to catch his lips instead of his stubble. 

It was shameful, but Sam felt himself tensing and carefully guiding each muscle so that he could turn over to lay on his side facing Danny’s back. Unable to lay alone with his thoughts any longer, he decided that the sight of the body next to him would be enough to quell the uncomfortable desire in his chest that was beginning to frighten him slightly. However, he was startled to find that Danny had turned over at some point as well. Sam’s heart flitted and jabbed at him from his ribcage as he took in the sight of Danny’s cheek pressed to the pillow, his mouth ever so slightly ajar as he drew in deep breaths. He was laying on his chest, and Sam fought the urge to trace the swells of muscles in his arms as they came to cross underneath the pillow beneath his head. There was a needling, demanding pull in Sam’s stomach now, one that yanked and strained the longer Sam took in the sight of Danny’s placid, perfect face in the spectral moonlight. It puppeteered him to slide a trembling hand up and delicately cup Danny’s freckled cheek. Sam felt as though he was doing something exceedingly terrible when his thumb traced a gentle journey over Danny’s skin that still buzzed with heat from his light burn. Danny drew in a big breath and released it through his nose, stern eyebrows knitting slightly in a dream as Sam screamed at himself in his head to move his hand, flip back over, and just go to sleep. Yet it seemed like such an insurmountable task now that he’d felt Danny’s breath on his wrist. Worse, it reminded Sam of the proximity of Danny’s lips to his own, only inches away and closer even to his fingers. Sam’s mind raced as he became obsessed with possibility. 

His dreams were quickly dashed in a moment of blinding, white hot panic as Danny sniffed and stirred, stretching his arms slightly as his eyelids fluttered. Even with Danny rousing, Sam couldn’t find the strength to move his hand. He kept it resting with soft pressure on Danny’s cheek as he panicked about whether or not to feign sleep. All the while, Danny blinked fully and his eyes came into focus. Sam settled for a fake, heavy lidded gaze, doing his own round of “half asleep” blinking as Danny studied his expression. Danny let out an amused huff through his nose and his arm facing Sam loudly disturbed the sheets as it lifted from under the pillow and his hand clumsily tapped against Sam’s own on his face. 

“You’re dreaming, Sam,” Danny mumbled, his voice low and grumbling as he fought to speak without falling asleep again. “Go to sleep.”

“Not dreaming,” Sam whispered tiredly. He watched as Danny’s hand stretched and rested fully over his own, Danny’s fingers curling a little as his eyes closed again and he began to doze. 

It was such a little thing, but that pull inside of Sam snapped. There was something overwhelming him, and in his exhausted, newly freed state of mind, he saw no other option but to succumb. For the first time, when he felt the compulsion to pray for his salvation, he ignored it outright.  

Shifting forward, Sam used his hand on Danny’s face as leverage to gently pull himself forward and press his lips to Danny’s. He did so with no real pressure, simply lingering as long as Danny would allow him to and trapping a shivering breath inside his lungs as his eyes closed at the relief. He fully expected Danny to spit and push him off the bed, leaving him right then and there to hop in his truck and find California all on his own like he was supposed to. His fingers pressed into Danny’s skin at the thought, holding on to him as long as he could before this impulse came back to bite him in what he was sure would be seconds.  

Instead, he was met with the ginger push of Danny’s lips meeting him halfway. It only lasted for a couple of seconds, and Sam could taste the lingering whisper of mint toothpaste on his breath behind the numbing warmth of his tongue, which did no more but tap momentarily at Sam’s closed lips. When Danny’s lips unstuck from his, Danny barely pulled away to speak, giving Sam the luxury of their close proximity for longer than he ever could have dreamed of. 

“Now you’re just getting my hopes up,” Danny breathed with a laugh that lasted only a fraction of a second and seemed more like a punch of air from his chest.

Not really understanding what Danny meant, Sam flew into another panic. He could no longer feign a sleepy stare and blinked rapidly with restless nerves waking him up all the way. His heart pounded in his ears and he prayed his hand wouldn’t prickle with sweat from the dread beginning to course through him. All at once, he could hear a chorus of a hundred voices from back home reminding him of the great, divine consequence of what he was doing. 

“Sorry,” Sam apologized, his eyes immediately prickling with anxious tears. “I just…”

“I just don’t want you waking up tomorrow and feeling all…you know, guilty or whatever ‘cause of something you did half asleep,” Danny murmured. He cursed his moral compass pointing him to true north, even in this miraculous circumstance when the dial seemed to be spun on its axis entirely.  

“I’m awake,” Sam argued in a whisper. “That’s why I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that with you sleeping, that’s-”

“I was awake, too,” Danny replied simply. “I mean, when...”

An infuriating, tense minute passed between the two of them. There was much to be said, and also nothing at all. Too little time had passed in each other’s company to have any kind of profound feeling to confess, and yet there was a confounding magnetism that left them staring into the other’s eyes with heavy breath and rattling hearts. Danny’s hand eventually fell from where it had lain over Sam’s, but before Sam’s heart could sting with hurt at the loss, he felt Danny’s arm adjust to wrap around his waist and pull him closer. With this motion, their lips connected again, and Sam breathed in sharply through his nose as he attempted to fall into the rhythm of this disarming, second ever kiss. The matchbox capacity of the motel room and the sleeping world beyond its cracked windows were swallowed up by the fervor of Danny’s shuddering breath and the heat rolling off his skin. Sam heard the chastising chorus in the back of his conscience begin to sing again when Danny’s hand on his lower back tightened its grip. His heart hammered thinking about roaring hellfire and scores of taunting devils, but when Danny carefully rolled Sam onto his back and Sam opened his eyes, he saw only an angel.

“This sure is a step up from your little gesture in the pool,” Danny acknowledged, caging Sam in with an arm at his side and another by his head. 

“I was only saying thank you,” Sam muttered sheepishly, struggling to speak with his throat so dry and his muscles so alive with flickering reactions he fought to suppress.

“What are you saying now?”

Sam fell silent. He had no experiences to draw on or words in his vocabulary to place what he felt about Danny. Kind, gracious, handsome Danny, hovering over him with the patience he doled out time and time again when lesser men would have rolled their eyes and drove off.

“I think…” Sam started, fighting to sort his scattered, uninformed feelings. “I’m still saying thank you.”

Unexpectedly, Danny’s eyes flickered with apprehension. Sam’s eyebrows knit with confusion when Danny leaned back to straddle Sam’s hips, suddenly wearing a somber expression. Sam’s bottom lip quaked and pouted as he hurriedly propped himself up on his elbows.

“What?” Sam blurted. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, fuck, I fucked it all up, didn’t I?”

“I just really hope you don’t feel like you have to…do anything for me just ‘cause I’m giving you a ride,” Danny said earnestly. “I’d be really sore if you thought of me that way. I don’t expect a single thing from you.”

Sam’s heart gave a deep, aching clench as Danny’s words sank in. He felt his eyes nearly welling with tears again as he watched Danny look down at his hands in his lap before flicking his eyes up to Sam, probing him for a response. 

“No,” Sam replied firmly, pushing off the bed to sit straight and stare up properly into Danny’s eyes. “No, no, that’s not it at all. I would never. Never ever. You should know that, Danny, come on. I, it’s just…”

He trailed off again, blushing with embarrassment as the words finally came to him, plain and true. 

“I just like you is all,” Sam admitted, thankful for the shade of night to conceal the flush he knew was painting his face pink. “I’m sorry.”

“You keep apologizing when you got nothing to apologize for,” Danny accused quietly. His hands were close to shaking as he tried to calm himself down, but it was hard not to shiver at Sam’s confession.

“Sorry. Product of my upbringing, I guess.”

“Well, I got a bone to pick with a lot of things about your upbringing, if I’m being perfectly honest.”

“Me too,” Sam whispered truthfully. 

Danny studied Sam’s face with that familiar worried look he found himself sporting every day now, taking a minute to smooth Sam’s hair back and get lost in his dark, doll-like gaze. 

“I know it wasn’t part of the plan,” Sam went on with a small, shameful voice. 

Danny let out an airy, one note laugh through his nose and rolled his eyes, finally plucking up the courage to cup Sam’s cheek as Sam had done to him. 

“I’m not even sure what ‘the plan’ is anymore,” Danny sighed, finding it difficult to look anywhere but Sam’s rosy frown. “I know what I said, but I think deep down all I really wanted to do was go. California just seemed like the best place to start.”

“So…” Sam coaxed, unable to stop himself from tilting his chin into Danny’s grip. “When will you know where you’re going?”

“Now that I’ve met you, Sam? I think I know where I’m headed.”

Before Sam could bring up any matters of direction, of Danny’s supposed destined Californian love, or of what was to become of them as a them, Danny kissed Sam for a third time. Nothing special, nothing mind blowing. Yet with it, Sam felt every saying about the magic number, three strikes, and the Holy Trinity itself fade in comparison. And when Danny laid him down again, Sam swore he could see the stars.

 -

The next morning, Sam sat in the passenger seat of the truck with his head hanging out the window, chestnut hair spilling behind him in the wind as the bare fields and pale blue sky rolled on by. With his shirt unbuttoned to remedy the heatwave, anyone would’ve been able to see the small, tender bruises lining his collarbone and marching down his chest. Beside him, Danny kept one eye firmly on the empty road and the other on his passenger. On a whim, he took a hand off the wheel to fiddle with the radio, adept fingers spinning the knob until a choral worship song came crackling over the waves. Sam turned his head at the music and made a fond sound, shoving Danny’s shoulder with a light push and settling back into his seat. However, after a minute of listening, Sam found himself reaching to change the station. He settled on a rock station blasting a song dripping with bass and drums, nodding his head along to it curiously as Danny shot him an incredulous smile. 

“I fear I’ve corrupted you,” Danny laughed, reaching out to muss Sam’s hair.

“Good,” Sam hummed. “I needed it.”

“Yeah, you did. Just remember you promised not to go running off on me. And no bar fights. And before you ask, tattoos are a solid maybe.”

Sam laughed, pressing up against the headrest as he kicked his boots up on the dashboard and allowed himself to recline. For a moment, it crossed his mind that this might be one of the first times in his life he felt truly comfortable. It also crossed his mind that Danny’s persistent worry of Sam running off into the night was becoming increasingly more ridiculous. As he looked at the man driving next to him, who was miraculously unaware of the midday sun setting his curls and perfect side profile alight, Sam knew with confidence there was nowhere else he’d rather be. 

~~

Chapter 2!

[ethelcain-songs]

Head in the Wall Ethel Cain

Sometimes you make wanna put my fucking head through the wall Sometimes I wonder if I even know you at all Fall asleep to the sound of your old rotating fan I cut the fuck out of myself and soaked the bedsheets with blood again

I hold my head underwater just to drown out the noise It's always my fault, girls will be bitches, and boys will be boys I know I don't need you but I'm terrified of letting you go Even after all the times you fucked the shit out of me while I was crying no

How am I supposed to feel good about myself when everything I do is wrong When I'm just an ugly bitch, a fucking freak, and I don't wanna go on I don't wanna leave my house cause I know everybody's staring at me now Why the hell am I alive, is what they think, they wanna take me down

I can't get out, can't run away, there's no escaping you now I'm gonna die all alone, next to you in this piece of shit town We've been cursed since the start, jesus didn't want us And you take all of your sins out on my body like everyone else does

Shooting up our old school when we get bored of shooting up Fuck the cops, and fuck god, and fuck this town for ruining us They'll put holes in all we own and in our heads, pumped full of lead You always told me i could only leave you once we're both dead

Sometimes you make wanna put my fucking head through the wall Sometimes i wonder if I ever even knew you at all

[tadpoleponders]

AFTG Annotated Playlist: Song #1

Song: Head in the Wall by Ethel Cain

Author's Notes: I picture this song being Andrew at his lowest points, and this song in general is a really intense one so reader discretion advised!

TW for SH, gun violence, drug usage, SA

THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING I WANNA HEAR YOUR (polite!!!) THOUGHTS!! Please keep in mind this is just my interpretation of Andrew and this song, not everyone's or even the artist's at all. This is gonna be a series, and I promise the rest aren't going to be such a sucker punch in the heart!

Lyric analysis under the cut. Any lines not applicable to the scenario/character are strikethrough.

"Sometimes you make me wanna put my fucking head through the wall Sometimes I wonder if I even know you at all Fall asleep to the sound of your old rotating fan I cut the fuck out of myself and soaked the bed sheets with blood again"

A lot of this song I think is Andrew either talking to either Drake or Cass herself. We know Andrew used to sh as a way to cope with Drake's abuse, hence the last line. I think he also wondered if Cass really loved him if she didn't notice he was being abused, hence the second line. Obviously, he didn't know what normal family dynamics are supposed to be like as we know he was seven when something bad happened for the first time, but he was so desperate to be loved even just a normal amount from a parental figure that he was willing to put up with VIOLENT assault to just have a shred of safety under Cass's wing.

[Verse 2] I hold my head underwater just to drown out the noise It's always my fault, girls will be bitches and boys will be boys I know I don’t need you, but I'm terrified of letting you go Even after all the times you fucked the shit out of me while I was crying, "No"

Line one I think can be metaphorical in that Andrew tried to cope with things like alcohol, sh and nicotine that aren't beneficially in the end, hence holding ones head underwater, something that can very quickly kill you. The second line doesn't quite apply as the singer is a woman so she says girls will be bitches, but the boys will be boys thing echoes to what Luther probably said to him when Andrew tried to tell him about his abuse. Line three is in reference to Cass, Andrew thinking he doesn't really need her and knowing that it's probably safest to be entirely alone, but still inside being that scared child who just needs his mom. Line four is pretty explanatory again, talking to Drake, saying how he would put up with it if it mean he could stay with Cass.

[Verse 3] And how am I supposed to feel good about myself when everything I do is wrong? When I'm just an ugly bitch, a fucking freak, and I don't wanna go on? And I don't wanna leave my house, 'cause I know everybody’s staring at me now "Why the hell am I alive?" is what they think, they wanna take me down

Line one and two can be read as things Andrew feels because of the abuse in all of the houses he's been in. He's the only common denominator, so there must be something wrong with him, not the families. Obviously, it took enough of a toll on him he needed substances and sh to cope especially after Drake. The last two lines are in reference to the paranoia that comes with being abused, especially with mental illness thrown in. Whether Andrew was given his medicine for psychosis or if that was just the plea deal doesn't matter, being that abused for so incredibly long makes you so much more likely to develop mental illness and he def has something going on outside of PTSD. Either way, him believing others are out to get him in his roughest moments is why he's so vigilant anyway even if it is warranted sometimes.

[Chorus] And I can't get out, can’t run away, there's no escaping you now (There's no escaping you now) I'm gonna die all alone next to you in this piece of shit town And we've been cursed since the start, Jesus didn’t want us, no And you take all of your sins out on my body like everyone else does Shooting up our old school when we get bored of shooting up And fuck the cops, and fuck God, and fuck this town for ruining us And they'll put holes in all we own and in our heads, pumped full of lead You always told me I could only leave you once we're both dead

There's a lot to unpack here. One, no matter how far away he gets from any of his abusers, he can't escape what happened and the memories of it. Second line, I think at some point in the abuse Andrew must've thought Drake was going to kill him, and that night in Columbia he probably thought it was the end. And in a way, a really fucked up one, he did die right next to Drake, the last of his soul shattering into pieces like Drake's skull, in the piece of shit town of Columbia, in the place he wasn't ever believed.

The next lines I think are towards Renee, whose faith got her through rough times but that Andrew never benefitted from. You could also argue that even though it seems like Andrew initiated their sparring sessions and that it's consensual, I wonder if Andrew ever found the irony of her hurting him (and to be fair him her) as a way to cope, hence taking out ones sins on anothers' body.

I'd argue that the fuck this town part of the next line can be changed to fuck the system for ruining us, in reference to Renee and Andrew again.

The last line is Andrew's reflection on something Drake would've said to him (conjecture, but like it seems like something an abusive piece of shit would say) in a fucked up echo to maybe Cass saying the same thing when Andrew asked about the adoption potentially being permanent and him not having to leave, and she replies "You only have leave us when you die."

[Outro]

Sometimes you make me wanna put my fucking head through the wall Sometimes I wonder if I even knew you at all

*cries* okay thanks guys that's my cue to go sob until I'm a snotty mess about these characters I love Andrew and Renee so much they're so special to me.

[hoejosatoru]

Good Men Die Too

Pairing: fem!reader x hanma

Summary: Fic is based on Crush and Western Nights by Ethel Cain because hanma gives Ethel Cain lover vibes. Which is not a compliment but here we are. If you’re unfamiliar with Ethel Cain, basically just a super toxic and slutty relationship lol trust me

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: drinking/smoking, oral fem and male receiving, somewhat public sex, rough sex, gun play, hair pulling, hitting, bruising, blood, mentions getting you pregnant, cream pie, jealousy, possessiveness, violence, pet names (baby/angel/good girl), use of daddy, hanma is v toxic but so so is reader (support women’s wrongs!)

He’s never looked more beautiful, on his Harley in the parking lot

The night you met Hanma lives vividly in your mind. The flashpoint of who you were and who you would be. Call it fate, divine intervention, right (or wrong depending on how you looked at it) place at the right time, you ended up in the same bar as him on that fateful night. His sharp features cut through the monotonous crowd of faces, instantly intriguing you. His eyes connected with yours, a match into gasoline, sparking something inside you. He smiled and you knew he felt it too. 

You both watched each other for a while, recognizing that this was a game. Eventually, he slipped out the back door and you followed him like a moth drawn to a flame. You found him in the parking lot haloed by a pale streetlight, sitting on a motorcycle and smoking a cigarette. His hands, you noticed, were tattooed. Sin and punishment. You wondered how they’d feel on you.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing at a bar like this?” he asked, blowing smoke into the cool, dark summer night. You could feel him sizing you up.

“Looking for trouble, I guess,” you replied with a sly smile you’ve learned men love so much. You were close enough to smell him now - whiskey, smoke, and expensive cologne. It was intoxicating.

He chuckled darkly, “You may have found it.” Oh, had you. You always had a thing for bad boys; they were your vice. You wanted to say you didn’t know what Hanma was and, maybe in that moment you didn’t really. Maybe you assumed he was no worse than your other leather-clad nicotine addict boyfriends. But when you looked at him a small dark corner of your mind screamed, “Run”. You never had a great survival instinct, though, like a mouse entering a viper pit. Stupid fucking mouse.”You ever ridden on a motorcycle?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“Mmm,” he smirked, flicking his cigarette to the ground and grounding it into the pavement with his rather expensive looking boot. “I’m going to pop your cherry.”

And that is how you ended up on the back of Hanma Shuji’s motorcycle, gripping his strong torso. Breathing in the ashy-sweet scent of cigarette smoke. No helmet, of course, men like Hanma don’t use them. His black and blonde hair whipped behind him as he sped through the dark, narrow streets. He looked so fucking cool. You felt yourself get slick between your thighs. 

Hanma pulled into a dark, quiet alleyway. You swung your legs over, sitting on the bike like a chair as Hanma stood, towering over you. He looked at you like he wanted to eat you. You looked up with faux innocence, “Gonna kiss me now, or what?” 

Sin cupped your face, as Hanma leaned close enough to feel his breath on your face, but not enough for your lips to touch. “I’m gonna kiss you, just not on the lips.” He dropped to his knees, looking up at you with a devilish grin. Your desire for him was a visceral ache. He slid your underwear down your legs, stuffing them in his back pocket. “Those are mine now.” He flipped up your skirt, licking his lips at the sight of your wet pussy.

His hands spread your legs wider, before he buried his face between them. His tongue slid up and down your hole, collecting your arousal. He loved feeling it clench around nothing, desperate for pleasure. He sucked at your clit, earning a moan from you. “Such a slut letting a guy you just met eat your pussy,” he teased.

“Hmm, and what does that make you?” you asked, your voice saccharine.

“A lucky man,” Hanma replied, punctuating his statement by nipping at your clit. You gasped, your hands flying to his hair. Hanma smiled against you, getting back to work. He was sloppy and sinful, eating you with such enthusiasm it made you blush. Your head fell back against the cool brick wall behind the parked bike, as you tried to keep your breath steady. It was all for naught, as you were cumming on his tongue seconds later. You moaned his name unabashed, completely forgetting you were outside.

He stood back up, finally kissing you on the mouth. He gripped you tight and kissed you deep, letting you taste yourself on him. Hanma was like a drug. You were hooked.

Camo jacket robbing corner stores

You found out soon after that Hanma was in a gang, a rather infamous one at that. He wasn’t exactly hiding that fact, rather he boasted about it. He was proud. You loved the way his eyes shone wickedly when he talked about it. He oozed power and confidence. 

Hanma didn’t need to engage in petty crimes. Evidently, this gang was lucrative and being an executive got him all the money he could need. However, petty crimes were like a drug to Hanma: once you get a taste for it, you’re always going to crave it. Hanma loved to show off, which meant you got a taste of them too.

“Yell if someone’s coming,” Hanma instructed you. He kissed you through the bandanas that covered your faces. It was your job to sit on his bike and stand watch. You didn’t get nervous anymore, Hanma was a robbery savant. You bit your lip as you watched him enter the corner store, pulling his shiny black glock from the back of his waistband.  

You heard the sound of alarmed voices and smiled to yourself. Within minutes, Hanma was walking back out to you - as casually as if he just bought a pack of smokes - with a sack full of cash. He was glowing, eyes shining with deviance and success. If you could have fucked him right then and there, you would have.

Hanma hopped on the bike and sped away. You gripped him tightly, loving the way his gun pressed hard against you. It got you excited for a certain hard part of him. 

When you got back to Hanma’s place he was on you the second the door closed. He kissed and touched you, boasting of his latest success. “God that was almost too fucking easy.” He pushed you back on the bed, opening the sack of cash and letting the money flutter all over you. “Fuck you look sexy like this.” He leaned in and licked up your neck. “Almost as sexy as you sitting on my bike.”

“But not as sexy as you coming out to me,” you mused, playing it over in your head, “One day I wanna watch you do it. I wanna see them submit to you.” 

Hanma grinned, incisors catching the light. Even kneeling above you on the bed he towered over you. “You’d love how they beg,” he said, “Never seen a man go soft that fucking quick. Nearly pissed himself he was so scared.” He narrowed his eyes, calculating something. Then, he pulled his gun back out from his waistband and pointed it directly at your forehead. “You’re not scared of me, are you baby?”

You knew Hanma would never shoot you, yet your heart still raced. Looking death in the face will scare anyone. You’re only human. Yet, as your heart raced you felt your pussy thump with desire. What no one tells you is looking death in the face is also one hell of an aphrodisiac. You kept your eyes locked on Hanma’s, not showing an ounce of fear. You sat up slowly, pressing your forehead directly against the muzzle. When you spoke, your voice was strong. “Never.” 

Hanma gave you an approving smile. You passed the test, you knew. You had never been more safe; he was not going to hurt you now. He slid the gun down to your lips. You kissed it, licked it. He continued down your body, pressing the cool metal of the barrel against your clothed pussy. You let out a soft gasp, egging him on.

“Fuck my gun,” he commanded, “Go on, angel, I know you want to.” He pressed it hard against you, sliding it up and down to stimulate your clit. You rolled your hips, grinding against it. Hanma watched you, mesmerized. It was surprisingly easy to get off; you’d been ready to cum the second you saw Hanma pull his gun out at the corner store. “Fucking slut,” he said with all the love in the world, “Look at you cumming on my gun.”

He tossed the gun to the side the second you finished, yanking his own pants down. You bit your lip at the sight of the heavy bulge in his black Versace boxers. He leaned into you, licking up your ear. “Gonna ruin my good fucking girl.” 

I owe you a black eye and two kisses, tell me when you wanna come and get ‘em

Hanma liked crazy. He could act annoyed all he wanted, but nothing got him going more than his girl acting crazy. His actions proved that. Not answering your texts or calls. Going out for drinks with his boys. Flirting with some stupid girl. You knew this because you followed him here, of course. He knew what he was doing.

If you weren't so mad, you’d laugh. This girl, bless her heart, looked as sweet as the bubblegum your dentists warned you not to have because their sugar would rot your teeth. Hanma would chew her up and spit her out. He showed no real interest in her until he saw you. He smiled a twisted, smug grin. You walked right into his trap.

You didn’t go up to him right away, no you couldn’t give him that much satisfaction. You sat at the bar, ordered a drink and watched out of the corner of your eye. You had to bite your tongue so you wouldn’t laugh at the girl coughing when Hanma lit a cigarette. The girl was talking up a storm from what you could see, Hanma not paying attention to any of it. He was too busy making sure you saw him put a hand on her thigh. There’s only so much button pushing you can take.

You sauntered up to them, trying to stay as calm as possible. Hanma looked at you expectantly, but you turned to the girl instead. “Careful with this one,” you nodded over to him, a faux smile on your face, “He keeps a gun in his waistband.” The girl’s eyes widened like a deer in headlights. 

Before anyone could respond the doors of the bar busted open, men with guns filing in. You noted their colors instantly as a rival gang. The girl ran away screaming. Poor girl, you thought, just before the gun fire started. Hanma grabbed you and yanked you down, a glass shattered behind you. A second later and that would have been your skull. Hanma shielded you with his body as you ran for the back door, firing back with his own gun. A fleeting thought of he really loves me, crossed your mind as you ran. 

When you got to his apartment, he started to ask if you were okay, but before he could finish you slapped him across the face. “What the hell was that for?” he snarled, fists clenching at his sides.

“That was for trying to fuck with other girls,” you replied defiantly. “But this is for saving me.” You dropped to your knees, looking up at him seductively. 

“You’re a crazy fucking bitch, you know that,” Hanma said, sounding in love. 

“Yeah and you fucking love me.”

“God damn right I do.” He brushed a thumb over your cheek, turning serious for a second. “You’re mine, baby. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” You leaned into his touch, nipping sweetly at his thumb. Hanma smiled. “Now show me how thankful you are.”

You went to work, sliding his pants and boxers down. He was hard already, his cock heavy in your hand. You licked up the underside of him on the vein you knew drove him wild. He let out a low hiss as your lips enveloped his tip. You licked at his tip, before taking him deeper in your mouth. Hanma’s head fell back, letting out low sounds of pleasure. “Fuck baby, feels so good.”

Sin and punishment tangled in your hair, pushing you deeper on to him. He used his grip as leveraged to fuck into your mouth. You gagged, throat tightening around him and a few mascara tears sliding down your face. He fucking loved the view. “Taking me so good - fuck - so good angel.” You squeezed his balls, hollowing out your cheeks more, desperate to see him finished. Second later he let out a low, throaty groan and spilled his seed in your mouth. You swallowed gladly, earning a proud grin from him. 

You fell asleep tangled up shortly after. The next day when Hanma woke up, he found a bruise on his face from where you hit him. It got him so hard he got right back into bed and fucked you.

I watched him show his love through shades of black and blue, starting fights at the bar across the street like you do

You’re a bit of a hypocrite, you can admit that. You hated when Hanma tried to make you jealous, but that didn’t stop you from returning the favor. You liked riling each other up; driving each other crazy was your love language. Plus, Hanma never fucked you better than when he was pissed.

So, how could you not let the guy at the bar buy you a drink? It was easy enough to twirl your hair and bat your eyes and get him smitten over you. You could feel Hanma’s eyes burning into you. It made your pussy ache. Then this poor fool put his hand on your waist, sealing his fate. 

Hanma was on him in a blink of an eye. He grabbed him by the collar and threw him to the ground. Before the guy could even get out a what the fuck are you doing Hanma stomped on his hand. “You ever fucking touch my girl again and you’ll lose that hand,” Hanma spat, ignoring his cries of pain. He gave him a hard kick to the ribs. “Shut the fuck up.” No one at the bar - owned by his gang - reacted; it was a typical evening for them. A few of Hanma’s underlings dragged him outside as he turned to you.

Hanma gripped your hair, pulling your face close to his. “You think you’re so fucking smart, huh?” He was dragging you towards the bathroom.

“Aw, Shu, we were just talking,” you replied innocently.

“Like hell you were.” He slammed the door behind him, locking it. 

“You sound a little jealous,” you poked at him. He spun you around, pushing you against the sink. His hand ran down the length of your spine, bending you over.

“You’re mine,” he snapped, “Looks like I gotta fucking remind you.” You heard the familiar clink of his belt hitting the floor. He flipped your skirt up, ripping your underwear off your body and tossing it to the floor. “Dripping like a slut. You want me that bad?” When you didn’t answer, a hand came down hard on your ass, making you yelp. “Asked you a fucking question.”

“Want you so bad daddy,” you whined, making Hanma’s eyes darken with lust. He pumped himself a few times before pressing into you. Your head dropped, moaning at the stretch. He grabbed your hair, yanking your head back.

“You’re gonna watch me fuck you,” he growled. Your eyes locked with his in the mirror as he pounded into you. The smack of skin echoed in the bathroom. You gasped as Hanma’s tip brushed the sensitive spots inside you.

“Fu- nngh - fuck Shuji,” you moaned.

“You think he could fuck you this good?” Hanma said, breathless as he fucked you, “Bet he wishes he could have you like this. Shit I should kill him for even thinking. I’d kill for you baby, you know that?” Your pussy squeezed around him at his words, lighting a fire in him. “Oh you’d like that, huh? Like me killing somebody for you? Such a nasty slut.” 

You whimpered in response and nodded, but it wasn’t enough for him. Punishment gripped your jaw vice-tight. “Wanna hear you say it.”

“Want you to kill for me,” you panted, pleasing Hanma. He licked up the length of your spine.

“I fucking love you,” he said, “want this whole bar to know how much I love you. That you belong to me.” Punishment slid down to your throat, squeezing. “Gonna scream my name and let them all know?” You nodded  furiously and Hanma smiled wickedly. Sin gripped your hip as he pounded into you impossibly harder. His hold on you was so strong you wouldn’t have been able to move an inch even if you wanted to. Not that you did; you were quite happy where you were.

Hanma kept a tight grip on your throat, choking you. He slipped his free hand forward to run fast circles over your clit. Just as your orgasm was on you, he let go of your throat, letting all the blood rush back to your head. Your orgasm was white hot with intensity. You screamed his name shamelessly, squirting all over the both of you in the process.

See you all fucked out pushed Hanma over the edge, cumming in you with one deep final thrust. He moaned your name just as loudly. He leaned over you, kissing and nipping at your shoulder. “You’re mine. Forever.”

“Forever,” you repeated like a prayer. 

The next morning, Hanma told you to get dressed. He was taking you to one of his gang meetings. You were instantly excited. You loved getting to watch him at work. You beamed with pride watching men cower before him. Hanma asked you to wear his favorite dress - a silky black number - and you obliged. 

You sat at your vanity doing your makeup. You had a few lavender bruises along your jaw and on your neck from Hanma’s hands. He came up behind you, kissing the bruises and telling you how much he loved you. A smug grin slid across his face as he looked at the little gold “Hanma” necklace that hung just above your breasts.

“If I didn’t have so much to do today, I’d fuck you right now,” he breathed in your ear, before giving your tits a squeeze. You giggled and followed him out the door.

The meeting, you realized, was less a meeting and more a doling out of punishments. Hanma, being one of the most feared members, was in charge of punishing some of the worst offenses. If you were a traitor or a member of a rival gang, he was the last person you wanted to see. 

Hanma enjoyed the dirty work. He much rather be here, knocking the teeth out of his enemies than sitting in a boring exec meeting. One traitor was dragged in begging and pleading, then dragged out unconscious. Hanma smiled through it all, only the blood on his knuckles and shirt would give away that something unsavory was going on to an outsider. Watching the beatings all you could think was, Hanma never hits me this hard. He must really love me.

You were there because Hanma liked to show off, both to you and the people who worked for him. He liked having his girl, dressed like you were, sitting beside him as if to say, “Look what I get to go home to.” He liked you to see how strong and powerful he is. It dawned on you, watching this, that this was also a warning of sorts. Betray me and this is what happens. But you couldn’t find it in you to be scared. You loved Hanma and you knew he did too, in his own twisted way. Hanma chased after other’s fear and you never giving it to him is what makes you so irresistible. You needed him and you’d make it so he always needed you. Worst case scenario, you knew where he hid the guns and you weren’t afraid to use them.

All those months ago, when you met Hanma in the parking lot you may truly have been a mouse. But now, sitting here, drinking in the sight of your lover beating his enemies, promising to yourself it would always be you and him, you became a snake yourself. Venom and all.

Good men die too, I’d rather be with you 

It was one of the rare days Hanma showed true, vulnerable emotion. He held you tightly, but delicately, like you were the most precious thing in the world. It made you feel so powerful; no one else got to see him like this. 

“I’m so sorry baby,” he murmured against your neck. You and Hanma got jumped while out on a date. Hanma had handled things, beating the two guys bloody. You got away unscathed, though he did have some bruising on his cheekbone and busted lip. You thought he looked handsome like that.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, you saved me Shu,” you replied, kissing the top of his head. 

“Don’t deserve you,” he replied, “You deserve a good man. Who’s gonna protect you if I get myself killed?” You could have told him to be the man you deserve. To do better or be better. But that wasn’t the Hanma you fell in love with, nor was it the one you wanted.

You took his face in your hands, looking into his honey-gold eyes. “Good men die too, I’d rather be with you.” Hanma’s eyes lit up at that, flicker’s of his normal self coming back. 

“I love you y/n,” Hanma replied, “You mean everything to me.”

Show me how much I mean to you while I’m lying in these sheets undressed

You stepped back from him, unzipping your dress and letting it slide down your body, leaving you naked. “Show me how much I mean to you.” You grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulled him down on the bed with you. Hanma’s pupils were blown out as he looked over your body. He pulled his clothes off quickly, eager to be with you.

He kissed you slow and deep. Some blood from the cut on his lip got into your mouth and you savored the sweet-metallic taste. He hand slipped between your legs to play with your slick pussy while you kissed. His long fingers pumped in and out of you in languid strokes. You could feel Hanma’s cock getting hard against your thigh.

“Want you so bad Shu,” you murmured as he licked at your nipples. He sucked at your tits, pulling soft whimpers from your lips.

“Gonna give my baby what she wants,” Hanma replied, lining himself up to your aching entrance. He pressed inside you and you relished the sweet stretch of him. Hanma rolled his hips, groaning. “So fucking tight for me.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you. You kissed desperately, all tongue and teeth. Hanma picked up speed, but was nowhere near as rough as he normally was. His thrusts were deep and purposeful, letting you feel every inch of each other. Sin slipped between the two of you, rolling circles over your throbbing clit.

“Shu- fuck,” you gasped.

“Love you so much,” Hanma replied, leaving hickeys on your neck, “You're mine forever, you know that?”

“All - nngh all yours,” you stumbled, pleasure tying up your tongue, “Forever.” 

“Gonna put a baby in you,” Hanma babbled, drunk on the feeling of you wet pussy sucking him in, “Never gonna let you get away.” Your pussy throbbed at his words, which made Hanma smug with love. You wanted to reply, but your mind was fuzzy. It wasn’t long before your orgasm lit up your body with a blissful warmth. You moaned Hanma’s name, your back arching off the bed with gasping breaths. Feeling you squeezing around him sent Hanma over the edge, his dick twitching inside you as he filled you. 

Hanma let himself go soft inside you, before pulling out and sprawling out next to you. He reached into the bedside table, pulled out a cigarette and lit up. “I mean it, y/n. It’s you and me against the world.” Smoked fanned over your face as he spoke.

You stole the cigarette from him, taking a drag before replying, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[larkingame]

i've been such a diehard fan of larkin since i first found it and im so excited by all the new characters! my poor girl Wynonna Abram's is gonna have a hard time choosing between these beautiful fools.

but i was wondering, what with Adam viewing himself as the biblical figure, do he and the other RO's have strong opinions on the Preacher's views/beliefs about religion? for instance, would Adam look unkindly upon a Preacher that didn't truly believe? or would another RO prefer an atheist Abrams?

hey! thank you so much! i'm really glad you enjoy the game! <3

so, Adam's whole thing (especially in the case of a female mc) is that Abrams is fulfilling a destiny, so to speak, so in the end their beliefs don't really matter to him. they'll come around to seeing the truth. they have to. they have to.

in terms of religion, I don't think anybody would be too concerned with the beliefs of the Preacher--more, I think, are they concerned with the fact that they're lying about them.

Nash for example is a lapsed baptist, he doesn't really believe much anymore and kind of thinks that religion shouldn't be the only thing steering you morally. Ace, Hollis, Dominic, Montero and Reyes all find themselves fitting somewhere on the catholic spectrum--whether that be former, lapsed, fairweather believers or devout. Rose is jewish, but she's not really practicing--for the most part. She celebrates holidays and prays, but she's not all that strict about it. Cassidy is christian purely through cultural osmosis. he doesn't have faith in anything really, but there have been a few close calls where he's whipped out the Lord's Prayer, he's more of a believer in luck. Ethel grew up practicing a few different flavors of christianity, but she's long turned her back on Christ. Cyrus is a man of science, but he grew up with his grandmother practicing orthodox christianity and Celina doesn't believe in a higher power other than herself.

[bunnithechubs]

hi! :) i was wondering wcif Ethel's hair in the first pic on this post:

https://www.tumblr.com/bunnithechubs/764523223441358848?source=share

also double question! would you be willing to post a transcript of Lilith's letter? my vision is quite bad but also i'm curious what she said to stir the pot :o

Hi there anon! You can find Ethel’s hair here ;)

I will totally update that post with a transcript of the letter (and make sure to do that for posts now on! I also have terrible vision so I get it!) I’m not home rn to give you the exact details of the letter but I can give you a summary! It’s gonna be a yap session so if anyone is interested it’s below the cut!

Basically, Lilith started the letter wishing Ethel a good health and pregnancy. In my own world it’s not common for double vamps to procreate so the fact Ethel is pregnant is a huge deal. So she was just fluffing up saying that she was giving her hope and stuff. Basically a mental tactic to throw Ethel off.

Then she basically dropped the bomb that Vlad was actually married before her to another vampire. Ethel didn’t know it was a vampire just that he was married prior and wore the ring out of respect to his late wife.Then also dropped that the wife didn’t make it so Lilith was trying to “make sure it wouldn’t happen again.”

Remember, Vlad has been proclaiming (at least to Ethel) that she is his eternal love. But in her mind she’s like okay so you make me fall for you, turn me, then court me for 50 years, and you can’t even tell me the truth?? So that’s why she low key hates Vlad rn. Lilith wants Vlad so she’s doing what she can to drive them apart without being too on the nose about it.

[killerlookz]

writing prompts / and or titles except they're just lyrics from songs i like

not really a sincere prompt list and honestly more for my own keeping, but hey if anyone wants to take them go right ahead! songs linked for spotify ^_^

Angst/Hurt:

i know someday you'll have a beautiful life, i know you'll be a star in somebody else's sky, but why can't it be mine? black- pearl jam

"day by day, i'm slowly replaced in your picture frames, a brand new face on your pillowcase." white noise- pvris

"since i've been gone, i hear you've been crying, you cry a thousand tears, darling don't despair" blood and tears- danzig

"i'm different with you, you're better than what im used to." mumble- whirr

"i get on the train and i just stand about now that i don't think of you." black star- radiohead

"let me go you can't hold on to ghosts." girls just want to have fun- bladee

"don't sink in me with your dog teeth." god's country- ethel cain

"see you're just wasted and thinking about the past again, darling you'll be okay." hold on 'til may- pierce the veil

"i've got his ache inside my heart, i know that it's you, what should i do now that i know that we're doomed?" ghost- sky ferreria

"my dear take what you want from me, i'll give you anything, just don't leave me on my own." my dear- new years day

"she's got a boyfriend anyway." sex- the 1975

"i guess i needed you more than i thought, but you don't think i'll feel it too." are you in the mood?- bay faction

Fluff/Comfort

"can you leave me breathless? make me wonder why i ache for your love?" sunspot- dottie

"in a moment nothing's wrong, no stress no worries, i'd stay forever if i could." i'd stay forever- whither

"good men die too, so i'd rather be with you." crush- ethel cain

"you can do no wrong, in my eyes." hearing damage- thom yorke

"everything is doomed, and nothing will be spared, but i love you, honeybear." i love you, honeybear- father john misty

"the end is unknown but i think i'm ready as long as you're with me, being as in love with you as i am." angels- the xx

"if you follow me, i will follow you to the unknown." apollo 13- the tears

"anything to make you smile, it is the better side of me to admire." no one's gonna love you- band of horses

"you'll always be my favorite obsession, i'm so sorry for confessing and i don't want to wait cause you know i feel the same." my obsession- pale waves

"at night i pray to god you're good to me, i want your bliss on bliss, a little company." bliss- yung lean

"on and on, like you were my first love, we could just runaway- not tell anybody." striptease- car wash

Smut

"why don't you show me the little bit of spine you've been saving for his mattress?i only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me." dance, dance- fall out boy

"go on give me one more taste, can't tell you how much i love the strain." show me the real you- moodring

"her lipstick stays like acid rain, resolving away my sense of restraint." wasp- motionless in white

"now to calm me, take me around again, don't pull over, this time won't you please drive faster." passenger- deftones

"not really into kisses leading into nothing." kiss land- the weeknd

"baby if it feels good, then it can't be bad." gibson girl- ethel cain

"i miss the way you say my name, the way you bend, the way you break, your makeup running down your face, the way you fuck, the way you taste." the death of peace of mind- bad omens

"i want it dirty with the lights on, filthy, vile, and obscene, i wanna show you what a bitch i can be." hatefuck- motionless in white

"you say you're a good girl, i say you're a liar. how could such a good girl love a vampire? kisses aren't enough, i want to bite through you." your favorite dress- lil peep/lil tracy

"scratching counter top is was screaming, my back arched like a cat, my position couldn't stop, you were hitting it." stargirl interlude- the weeknd/lana del rey

"i want to make a movie, so let's star in it together." this is hardcore- pulp

"you're so sweet; your smile, your pussy, and your bones. you're on fire you move me like music with your style." MX- deftones

Dark

"he is the lamb, she is the slaughter." sic transit gloria... fade out- brand new

"say that the night sing alone, and if there's a god then i'm letting him go, all for you." chemical kids and mechanical brides- pierce the veil

"i love you so madly like sadie make, but i'm just a crazy bitch, crying in the kitchen to tammy wynette." tammy faye- nicole dollanganger

"and so he gets to die a saint, but she will always be a whore." the foundations of decay- my chemical romance

"i would die for you, i've been dying just to feel you by my side, to know that you're mine." #1 crush- garbage

"i fantasize about open wounds, allowing time just to dream them through.. rage is the itch im not scratching, i guess i'm over reacting." rolling out the red carpet- hail the sun

"now i can't see your face, i suffocate. because you're not around, i suffocate." suffocate- deer death

"i liked having hurt, so send the pain below, where i need it." send the pain below- chevelle

"call an optimist she's turing blue, such a lovely color for you." blue- a perfect circle

okay that's all for now if i think of more ill make anotha one!

[bedforddanes75]

no i do think that when people get "too leftist" (read: a raging extremist) theres some level of stupidity. like. if you cant hear the word gun without going off on a fucking rant about how terrible guns are and how all gun owners are disgusting and vile people then Maybe just maybe you need to like Think about that. not to talk shit (very much 2 talk shit lmfao) i was talking 2 someone the other day and mentioned hayden anhedonia owning a gun and she gave me this...VILE look. and i went on to explain shes got a gun and maybe thats weird but like ? shes getting that image back and taking the image of what a gun owner "should" look like and thats a GOOD thing. it might not be good that she has one but bitch wtf are you gonna do about it. i dont think guns should be easily accessible for SUCH obvious reasons but ? its just so like. you know when you speak to religious people as an atheist and you mention something VAGUELY against religion and they just freeze and lose all listening ability. thats what its like. i saw a video a while ago pointing out the similarities between religion and more modern leftism and im not sure this part was included but Ommmmfg it shouldve been. admittedly i dont actually speak to a lot of people so my view is skewed but seriously its puritanism in the other direction. i live in the uk and i want a gun. that is For the most part ILLEGAL. however. i dont think its a bad thing for me to want one. once people start wanting them for the purpose of causing harm THATS when its bad and obviously people with access to guns are more likely to kill people but im sorry you could say that about anything. people w cars are more likely to get into car accidents Hmm i wonder why that is. if ive got a farm and not a gun thats the same as having a sketchbook and no pen. its not gonna fucking work. theres exceptions to EVERY rule and i feel like the more people get into leftism the less they understand that. it is once again very similar to being a terribly devout christian who kills abortion doctors and screams at people every day. idk what im saying anymore but idk i just think its fucking stupid that she absolutely refused to understand that "gun owner = fuckign terrible fucking nazi piece of shit bitch vile" is just. not true. i have virtually no desire to harm anyone and i still want a gun. idk. im just mad that she started shit talking ethel cain because gtfo oh my god. its all well and good to be anti gun because so am i but jesus fucking christ. i think killing is bad but im still gonna kill a rabid dog YES ? exceptions to every rule DONT FORGET IT omg. i just dont like people being extreme it literally never goes well no matter what direction it is. you go full violence and you turn into a nazi. you go full buddhist monk and you get killed because youre different and vulnerable. you go full hateful leftist and turn into a nazi because you cant understand the concept of nuance and differences in the way people live their lives. i Dont know what im saying anymore and ive missed my last three songs