#but also its funny if shes smokin that grass

[spaceistheplaceart]

this pic goes hard feel free to screenshot

(aka the minute I saw alyx smoking a FAT ONE the only thing i could think of was duke nukem)

REFERENCES + BONUS UNDER THE CUT

references:

[idontmeantosoundrudebut]

This is Home (stupid Eretlout oneshot)

Oh hello it is currently 4 am and I've just finished this impulse one-shot about Modern Eretlout haha lol bruh! It's set in Britain by the way, because I'm British and I love my British culture lol! This hasn't been edited by the way so... yeah, it's really bad in my opinion but I need to post some writing because yeah! I'm actually currently working on a long Eretlout fic but I have no idea when/if it'll be finished so haha lol bruh awkward! Oh yeah, warning of abuse and past child abuse and only slightly steamy content, really its just making out and all that!!! haha lol bruh enjoy

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Blood fills his mouth. It drips from his chin, pours from his head, spills from his nostrils.

He opens his red-speckled fist and a tooth lies in the scarlet pool gathered in his palm, it almost looks like gold beneath the glow of the streetlamp that slants into his car. His upper jaw throbs from where he'd yanked out the already loose tooth and he can make out the rivulets of gum-flesh still clinging onto the roots. He stares at it with an unbothered and tired expression.

"Couldn't even punch my tooth outright," He mumbles to himself, opening the glove box and chucking the tooth inside, "Had to yank it out myself,"

It makes a high-pitched clanging sound as it bounces off a half-finished bottle of Captain Morgan and then, silently, it disappears behind the several cigarette cartons that lay piled unceremoniously within (Marlboro Reds, Marlboro Golds, Caramel Blues, Regal Kingsizes, even the odd Mayfair for when he gets desperately low). He reaches a hand inside and rummages through the collection, most of them are empty at this point, he needs to restock and clean out his car, it's been a solid few months since he did that. He shakes a Caramel carton, empty. Another Caramel? Empty. Marlboro Red? Empty. Regal? Ah, lucky day, only half-empty.

A great sigh forces its way through his clogged nostrils and, with the abruptness of a cut artery, blood spatters all over his shirt and along his forearms. His hand freezes mid-air, fingers tight around the bending carton as he blinks slowly, anger simmering beneath his skin because really? Really?! He looks down at his shirt, it was ruined anyway. He'll never get the red out that white, looks like someone's just slit his throat from all the blood that's been pouring down his neck. That table-corner got him good in the head and cut a deep gash just above his eyebrow, the entire right side of his face is crimson with blood and it shimmers in the flickering lamplight.

He bites into the end of the cigarette and lights it with a silver zippo, the flame casting writhing shadows across his blood-spattered hand. The first drag is the best, the first hit to the back of his throat, the first exhale of smoke. Each heartbeat hurts a little less with a little more smoke, a little more tar, a little more death in his lungs.

Snotlout starts the car and drives away. He watches his childhood home disappear around the corner and it feels like goodbye. He can't kind it in himself to be sad about it.

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He parks outside of Eret's house on the edge of the path, walking up to the red door with a tidy black seven nailed on it.

"Oh Snotlout, love, you alright?" Comes a familiar voice and he looks over to see Chantel from next door, wrapped in her dressing gown with a black bin bag clutched in her hands.

Eret's house is tucked in the centre of a row of brick houses, it's the kind of street where everyone knows everyone and everyone knows everything, whether you like it or not. In the last year, Snotlout has gotten to know a lot of people (and a lot of rumours) who live along this here street.

"I'm alright, Chan," He says honestly (because he is alright, it's just a bit of blood and few bruises) and stamps the butt-end of his fifth cigarette in thirty minutes into the cracked path.

"You 'aven't been fighten' again, 'ave you? With those Trapper boys?" Chantel asks severely, a mother of four, she's very intuned to her maternal instincts and even the slightest sign of distress has them flaring up, "It better not be with those Grimborn brothers! I'm telllen' you Snotlout, those two are shady bastards and its best to stay clear of 'em-"

Snotlout lights another smoke, this one from a full carton of Marlboro Red, and spits blood and phlegm onto the grass, tongue prodding the empty socket in his jaw.

"I haven't been fighting, Chan, promise," He reassures her, and that's also true because he didn't fight back at all, it was more of a beat down, "Just a disagreement with my old man, you know how it is,"

Chantel's back straightens like she's been in the army her whole life and she crosses her arms over her chest, red hair wet and shining like blood in the moonlight. Only four of the streetlamps work and they're further down the road, so the road and paths are alight only from the horseshoe moon that hovers amongst the star-filled sky, the black-asphalt gleaming silver. They've been complaints to the council to get them all fixed, but they won't do anything, they never do, they just leave the poor to rot.

She looks like she's about to say something about it, but he shakes his head at her. Instead of telling him to call the police, she says;

"You're bleedin' like a stuck pig all over the place, Lout, people'll gonna be thinkin' that Jack the Ripper is back from the fuckin' dead," He laughs at that and he offers a straight to her, as a thanks for not making a big fuss over finding him bloodied like a murdered boy in the middle of the night, but she shakes her head.

"You're grand, love, I got a pouch this mornin', save 'em for desperate times," Chantel looks him up and down, black eyes near white in the moonlight, "You look like you're in one now,"

Snotlout agrees with her. He waves a hand to bid her goodnight and goes inside. He closes and he turns on the hallway light. The marrow-deep tension in his bones slips away, causing a breath that comes from the very bottom of his tar-clogged lungs to fall from his lips, and his hurting heart finally stops beating against his ribs like a jackhammer as he leans against the front door.

He's safe, he's home. Because this small, shoddy house with its water-stained ceilings and peeling wallpaper and creaking floorboards is home. It's simple and a little broken, but it's home.

"Snotlout?" Eret calls from upstairs, he can see the bedroom light glow up the hallway at the top of the stairs, "That you?"

"Yeah," He takes a generous drag, then exhales slowly, "It's me, sorry I'm late... Went to see my dad, after work,"

Footsteps ring across the house and Eret appears at the top of the stairs, dressed in nothing but a ratty pair of grey jogging bottoms, his terribly handsome torso bare for Snotlout and Snotlout alone to see. He grins proudly around his cigarette at the sight of those hard abbs, those firm pecs, those faint scars, those old gang tattoos. Oh, what a handsome devil he is and Snotlout caught him all on his own.

"Fuckin' Hell, Snotlout!" Eret comes charging down the stairs like a mad horse and Snotlout barely blinks when he comes over to him, large hands gracing over his oozing temple and along his bruising jaw. The touch is very much welcomed.

"What happened? Were you jumped?"

"No, I wasn't fucking jumped-"

"You've lost a tooth!"

"It's in the car, in the glove box, I'll get Gobber to stick it back on,"

"I don't think that's how it works, darlin',"

Eret drags him into the living and posts him on the black vinyl couch. Hookfang, his German Shepherd, immediately bounds over to him and rests his snout on top of Snotlout's knees, wet nose twitching and throat moving with unfurling whines and whimpers. He pets him affectionally between his ears, humming lowly to Hookfang to help ease the old war-vet. Eret goes to snatch the half-smoked cigarette from his fingers, but Snotlout's reflexes are too fast.

"Hey! I'm not done, asshole,"

"Not smokin' in the house is your rule, not mine, I'm just helpin' you out,"

"Fuck that rule, just for tonight, fuck it,"

With a rich laugh, Eret saunters into the kitchen to get the med-kit. But Snotlout saw the concern and anxiety in those dark, earthy eyes and he heard it too in that laugh, it was a little shaky at the end. Hookfang barks at him.

"Easy Hookfang, I'm okay," He barks again, louder, black eyes glistening with fear, "I know pal, there's a lot of blood, but it's okay, I'm okay, soldier," He ruffles the War-dog's neck lovingly, trying to ease Hookfang's unnerved mood and distract him from the blood. It probably brings back bad memories for him.

Eret comes back with the med-kit tucked beneath his armpit and a large bowl of water cradled in his hands. He set it on the coffee table and politely nudges Hookfang out of the way, the Shepherd in turn leaps onto the couch and curls dutifully at Snotlout's side. Such a loyal friend, Snotlout doesn't deserve something as honourable as Hookfang's fidelity.

"Look like a stuck pig," Eret whisper, running a wet dishtowel along the drying river of blood that pours down his face and throat.

"Ha, Chantel said the exact same thing," He chuckles lowly, watching rivulets of watery blood travel down Eret's powerful forearms as he sponges at the blood along his cheek.

"Chantel?" He queries, eyes briefly flickering to meet his.

"Yeah, caught outside just as I was coming in," Snotlout closes his eyes as he lifts his chin so Eret can easily swipe the already stained towel down his throat. It leaves a funny tightness in his gut and a nice shiver ghosts up his spine at the vulnerable display.

"Well, expect the whole street to know by lunchtime tomorrow," Eret replies, then adds, "I mean, I love Chantel to pieces, but by God, she gossips like there is no tomorrow,"

Snotlout nods in agreement, smoking his cigarette and tapping the ash into an ashtray that's always kept on the coffee table, despite his own rule of no smoking in the house. But he's never been good at keeping to the rules, even his own ones. Eret wipes away the twin-tracks of maroon streaking from his nose and begins to wrap the gash above his eyebrow up.

"We'll go to the doctor tomorrow mornin', yeah? Think you might need stitches,"

"Cool," Is his reply, tired and uninterested.

All the blood is finally cleared from his skin. The towel is scarlet. The bowl on the table is no longer a bowl of water, but a bowl of blood. A swathe of bandages is wrapped around his head like a bandana, but there hasn't been any bleed through for a few minutes so Eret looks satisfied (and rather proud) at his nursing work.

After a moment, Snotlout flicks his finished fag into the ashtray and stares into Eret's dark eyes; he's very tired.

"Thanks for patching me up, babe," Snotlout says quietly, not because he doesn't mean it but because he is full of such a sudden exhaustion that it feels well overdue. His head, his brain, needs a good rest or else he's going to start screaming.

"No problem," Eret soothes his large hands up and down Snotlout's thighs, "Now, are you going to tell me what happened?"

Snotlout sighs, big and heavy, hand settling on the nape of Hookfang's neck and running through the dense fur. His heart shudders, his lung quiver, his blood boils, his body doesn't like any of this. Just get it over with, as he did with his dad.

"I told my dad about us. About me... you know, liking guys and all-"

"And he did this to you?" Eret's voice goes low, like a growl of an animal with its teeth bared. Snotlout would be lying if he said it didn't turn him on a bit. Thick fingers curl protectively around his thighs.

"Eret, don't get yourself all riled up about it, okay? It's done. I knew he'd react like this, it's not the first time he's punched me around and called me a faggot, just this time, he actually had a reason to call me one,"

"Yeah, well, it may not have been his first time but it sure as fuck is his last, do you understand?" Eret snarls vehemently, hands moving from his thighs to his hips and sides, Snotlout doesn't even flinch when he accidentally brushes against a forming bruise, "You are never going near him again, Lout, I won't let you be hurt by scum like that,"

Eret's eyes burn. Dark soil and spitting embers in furrowed sockets. The firm frown on his face and the clenching muscles in his jaw, grinding teeth that thirst for a hating man's blood. It's making Snotlout's throat go dry.

"You're hot when you're angry, have I told you that before?" He says lowly and Eret looks at him, vengefulness fading as he takes note of the wanton look in those pale eyes.

"You may have mentioned it once or twice,"

They breathe on each other's lips, tempting, waiting for the first one to move. Hookfang books it upstairs, sensing the heady change in the air.

Eret pushes Snotlout back onto the couch and crawls carefully over him, their lips immediately locking in a wet and obscene kiss that stretches on and on forever. Snotlout moans as Eret forces his tongue down his throat, golden hands skimming beneath his shirt and touching the tender flesh beneath in a skilled and teasing way that drives him mad. They make out for a while, dominating each other's mouths with vigour and gusto till their breathless and sweating.

The bloodied shirt is pulled over his head and Eret stills above him when he sees the black and blue bruises that bloom along his ribs and chest and stomach, even Snotlout gazes at them with morbid curiously. Fuck, his dad got him more than he realised. Not that it matters.

"I'll kill him, Snotlout, I'll kill him," Eret promises in a snarling growl and Snotlout wraps his arms around his shoulders, drawing him down so he can mumble against his lips;

"I know, but fuck me first,"

Of course, Eret complies.

Later, tangled in a mass of sweaty limbs and exhausted desires, Snotlout knows that he'll be okay. With his head on Eret's chest, he closes his eyes and sleeps because he's home, home has always been in those dark eyes, in those large hands, in those warm arms. Home has always been here.

Eret, a wanderer for most of his life, a lost man at sea who was bound for dirty work, has finally found a place to set loose his anchor. Snotlout is home, is the harbour he'll always be homebound to. He'll protect his Snotlout because who is he but a wanderer without his home.

[stardust2003]

Madferit: The Novel - Chapter 19

"What's Glastonbury?" I asked as the bus rolled on to Somerset.

           "A festival for hippies." Liam replied. "A bunch of flower wearin', pot smokin' hippies. A whole fuckin' field of 'em."

           "Sounds like my kind of place."

           He looked at me curiously. "You don't smoke pot."

           "I know." I agreed. "But I like flowers."

           The band performed that night on the Pyramid Stage.

           "Pretty big upgrade considerin' where we were last year." Noel said. He was in another surprisingly good mood but he was in his element.

           Even if it was performing for a bunch of hippies.

           Oasis weren't scheduled to play until the evening.

           "Save the best for last, yeah?" Liam said.

           "Yeah." I replied.

           We hung out on the grass with me sitting between Liam's legs. It was chilly but the sky was clear. Coats were enough to keep us comfortable as we took in the sights and sounds of the festival.

           "I'm glad you come with us." He said as he nibbled on the side of my neck. "You're a good luck charm, you are. Keep away me stage fright."

           "You don't have stage fright!" I giggled.

           "Well not now anyway! You make it all good, yeah? Keep the scary stuff away."

           I smiled as his soft lips sucked my skin. He made it hard to believe him but I liked the compliment anyway.

           The afternoon flew by and then it was time for the boys to get ready for their gig. They got started on the goodtime before they were due on stage. I made myself comfortable nearby and just watched it transpire.

When it was time, Liam led the way to the stage, bouncing around it while the others put their instruments to work. I gazed out from where I was and saw the field was covered with people for miles all cheering and screaming for the guys. It was fucking insane but fucking brilliant at the same time.

They played a mix of old stuff and new and the crowd ate it up. I, too, got taken away by it all. The sea of people. The sounds of the music. I had fallen hard for this band just like so many other people across the world.

Noel had a big smile on his face during the whole show even with Liam jumping around like a bit of a twat. I expected him to get super pissed at his little brother but maybe he was enjoying it.

After the show, we sat around a bonfire near our tents. Well most of us anyway. Liam had disappeared and told me not to wait up for him.

I tried not to worry but it was getting harder and harder each time. He'd been disappearing an awful lot in the weeks leading up to Glastonbury. He'd leave Noel's and be gone for several hours.

'He's probably just off for more drugs.' I reasoned. But even at that, Supernova Heights was full of drugs – anything and everything people could want with the exception of heroin. That was the one drug the boys in Oasis never touched. So why would he need to go out to get gear?

Maybe it was something else but what the fuck could be worse than drugs? I kept telling myself to stop thinking about it. It wasn't worth the stress.

I stared blankly at the orange and red cracking and sparking drowning out the drunken conversations around me. The heat from the flames was pretty strong but I was still cold. The air cooled pretty quickly after the sun had gone to bed. My jacket worked well during the day and the evening's gig but now things had changed.

"Here." Noel said softly as he draped his big duffle coat over my shoulders. "Don't want ya freezin' to death."

"Thanks." I said with a smile as he sat down beside me.

"Where's Liam gone?"

"I don't know. He just said he was going off like usual. Told me not to wait up for him."

"Then you'll sleep in my tent." He said quickly. He pursed his lips obviously realizing he just thought out loud. "Just so nothin' happens. I don't want someone sneakin' in on ya when he's not there with you."

I nodded a little. "And what am I supposed to do when he gets back?" I asked.

"Stay with me." He said surely. "Nobody'll mess with ya when I'm in there to block the door. Our Kid'll thank me for it in the end and so will you."

I had no idea why Noel was being so nice to me. He'd kept it up since the night I stayed in his room in London and never got upset when I left to go back to the guestroom with Liam. I knew I had no choice but to take it and run with it as far as I could.

Who knows how long it would last.

I was also shocked by the fact we were staying in tents. I didn't mind it though. I always enjoyed camping. I was just surprised the boys enjoyed it too. I figured they'd be too rock and roll to lie up like the spectators at the festival. I expected us to be put up in a fancy hotel, especially now they were the biggest band in England.

Noel's tent was no more glamorous than the others. In fact, I think it was a little smaller since he wasn't sharing with anyone. Meg came to the concert but left before the bonfire as he told her he was "too knackered" to party. I don't think she believed him but she still left anyway.

"Jesus!" He groaned as he tried to get comfortable. "Why the fuck did they give us a campsite on the side of a fuckin' hill?"

"We're not on the side of a hill." I told him.

"Well I can assure you the ground under me back ain't the least bit level! Fuckin' hell! Feels like there's rocks under there too."

"You wanna switch places?"

"No." He shook his head. "I'm for blockin' the door, right?"

"Yeah I guess." I agreed. "But you better not be all pissy in the morning if you don't get enough sleep."

"Can't be pissy with a gig to do."

"What gig? I thought tonight was your guys' only performance?"

"Well it was." He said. "But I'm doin' an acoustic one by myself. Debuting one a the new songs."

"Which one?" I asked.

"You'll see. You're comin' with me. Get a front row seat."

Channel 4 had presenters commentating on the various performances throughout the weekend. They kept the viewers at home all up-to-date on all things Glastonbury which I'm sure the people appreciated.

Noel and I were on our way to the place where his gig was going to be held (we were informed said presenters were patiently awaiting our arrival), when Liam came crawling out of his tent and tagging along after us.

"Ee-arr! Where the fuck did you stay last night?" He asked me.

"In Noel's tent." I replied calmly.

"Noel's tent? Why the fuck-"

"'Cuz you weren't here." Noel cut him off. "She don't need to be by herself with all the fuckin' weirdos runnin' about 'round here. If you'd stick around and look after her more often, I wouldn't fuckin' need to let her sleep in my tent. The fuck'd you go anyway?"

"Nowhere." Liam replied shaking his head.

"And before nowhere?"

Liam shook his head in his "it's no big deal" sort of way.

"Whatever." Noel replied with a tut. "C'mon, Addie! Don't wanna be late."

Music was a very serious business with Noel, as if you couldn't already tell. And when he knew he had a gig to do, he got to it. He wasn't about to let anyone down.

The area where Noel was set to perform was in a makeshift tent area. They had all kinds of props displayed, including what looked like a double decker bus, with the Glastonbury logo on them.

They sat Noel on a metal barrel with his guitar and two presenters came over to interview him before he played. I recognized the one as the host of The White Room. I don't know where the other one was from and quite frankly, I didn't care. They were both annoying as shit, pretending like they seriously wanted to ask Noel questions and any time he attempted to respond, they talked over him by arguing with each other. They were trying way too hard to be funny.

'Come on!' I thought as I watched it go on. 'Get this show on the road and stop dicking around!'

Finally, they walked back to where they came from and Noel began the song. It was one of the ones he made Liam pick between.

And it wasn't the one Liam left for him.

It was so beautiful. You couldn't deny that.

'Oh shit!' I exclaimed inside my head as I thought about something.

This was the song's debut...and its delegated singer wasn't singing it.

'God help us!' I thought as I imagined just how pissed Liam was going to be. This was his song after all. He and Noel both made that clear with their deal.

Noel's eyes were hidden behind his glasses pretty well but I could still see them a little. Enough to realize he was looking right at me as he sang the whole song.

We took off as soon as he was finished, leaving the presenters to interview the guy with bleached blonde hair sitting on the couch across from me. I didn't know who he was and I wasn't that interested in finding out. I heard them say he was just some regular guy on our way out.

Maybe he was.

"What'd ya think?" Noel asked as we walked back to the campsite.

"It was really good." I replied.

"It was written for you."

I stopped dead in my tracks. "What?"

"I wrote the song for you." He said. "The lyrics. Didn't you-"

"Stop!" I said as I shook my head a little. This was too hard to believe.

"What? It's true!"

"No it isn't!"

"What the fuck d'ya mean it isn't?! I wrote it so I know what the fuck it's about and it's about you!"

"I don't believe you." I said as I looked away from him.

"Well ya better believe me 'cuz it's the fuckin' truth." He replied.

"How can it be the truth when you were probably high when you wrote it?!"

"Because it just is! I know what my songs are about. All of 'em. Drugs don't cloud that for me."

"Oh bull shit!"

"C'mon, Adds!" He said. "Why ya bein' like this? Most birds would be pretty flattered to find out a song's written about them."

"Well yeah but-"

"Oi! Tix!"

I looked over to see Liam approaching us.

"C'mon, Tixie!" He said as he took my hand. "Let's go sit in the grass, yeah? You look like ya could use some sun."

"Yeah." I agreed.

The weather was much warmer that day.

I just hoped it wouldn't cause Noel to cool down.