#elwood's corner

[pvtjxker]

The Full Metal Jacket fandom is split in two

-fans of war violence guns blood (most of it)

-gays (it's ten (10) of us and I know them all)

[jocelynships]

Y’all I’m cooked

The Blues Brothers officially recognize me

Bc why did the Elwood come right up to me while they were dancing with the crowd all happy and asking how I was doing, then smiling all big at me when he saw me come up 🫣

[lilithpleasant]

[americachavez]

[itsgreti]

THE NEW BOUNCER

pairing. elwood dalton x f!reader

summary. a new motorcycle gang is causing trouble, but the new bouncer solves the problem within a minute.

warning. cursing, mentions of physical injuries

word count. 1,2k

a/n: hey guys! it's literally my first ff ever, i just wanted to try out how hard is writing in another language, and i can tell you that i was struggling a bit haha. english is my second language, so if you find any mistakes, don't hesitate and text me! (divider is made by rookthornesartistry)

Working in the Road House was eventful. During the daytime, it was peaceful, but as night approached, the bar was no stranger to chaos. Lately, the trouble was caused by a motorcycle club, and its leader, Dell. He was the main source of broken tables and fights. Every night, he would swagger in, eyes glinting with wickedness. Tonight, however, things were going to be different.

(Y/N) had been working as a waitress at the Road House for a few years now. She had quickly become a favourite among the customers for her sense of humour and warm smile. But Dell's recent attention was anything but welcome. He would glance at her from across the bar, making nasty comments that sent shivers down her spine. She had tried to ignore him as much as possible, even helping Billy kick their ass out of the bar, but it had only led to swollen, bruised eyes of Billy and rude words to (Y/N).

Frankie’s only option to eliminate Dell and his gang was to find a new bouncer, and Elwood Dalton was the perfect candidate. He was known for his calm manner and challenging fighting skills. Initially hesitant, Dalton accepted the offer, as he had no other choice.

The other day, Dalton arrived to Glass Key, and as he walked through the door of the bar, (Y/N) couldn't help but stare at him from behind the counter. Tall, muscular, he was different from the usual arrivals, and he was an unfamiliar face compared to the regulars. He took in the scene with a keen eye, assessing the surroundings before making his way deeper into the bar. He met (Y/N)’s eyes.

"Hey there, what can I get you?" (Y/N) asked, her voice steady and friendly. It was rare for new faces to arrive with luggage in their hand.

"A black coffee, please." Dalton replied, his tone polite but firm.

"Um, we don’t have that. But you can try our Cuban coffee. It’s different, but it works the same." (Y/N) replied with a smile. Dalton agreed and waited her to prepare it. While he was waiting, he took in the ambiance. As she handed him the coffee, their eyes met, and she felt a strange sense of reassurance. There was something about him that made her feel safer already.

"You're new here," she said, more as a statement than a question.

Dalton nodded. "Just started today. Name's Dalton."

"(Y/N)," she replied with a smile. "Welcome to the Road House."

"Thanks, ma’am. Do you know where can I find Frankie?" he asked with a small smile at the corner of his lips.

She quickly pointed at a small room. "Yes, up there." Dalton acknowledged her, poured down the coffee, and made his way up to his new boss.

As the day went on and the light of the moon reflected into the bar, the place filled with people. The air buzzed with music and laughter. (Y/N) didn’t stop working for a moment as more and more customers ordered drinks. There were small fights, but Billy and Reef quickly wrapped them up. Dalton sat at the side of the counter and admired (Y/N)'s endurance and resilience as she also tried to put the too-drunk people in place.  

"The bar is always that packed?" Dalton asked (Y/N), who was mixing a cocktail with a customer.

"Yeah… " (Y/N) replied and handed over the drink to a girl. "But it’s normal, until-" Before she could finish her sentence, the mood shifted the moment Dell and his ass gang walked in. (Y/N)'s heart sank; she had been hoping for a quiet night and Billy had enough black eye for today.

"Wow, it’s like a morgue in here," Dell shouted and flipped the table in front of him for no reason. He scanned the room, his gaze immediately locking onto (Y/N). Dalton, watching from the aisle, tensed.

Dell made his way through the crowd, knocking over a couple of chairs in his path. He reached the billiard table to play some rounds as he had the past days, but he again terrified the other regulars. Billy came over to him and told him to get out, but Dell just laughed and pushed him back.

"Oh, Billy. You’re that stupid?" Dell laughed with his company next to him. "You didn’t learn, did you?" (Y/N) watched it behind the counter and decided to end it finally. She loved Billy as if he was her brother and couldn’t watch it anymore as the biker beat him up by and made everyone's life miserable. Dalton followed her every movement and decided to stand up if anything happens.

"Hey! Get the fuck out, now!" (Y/N) said with anger in her voice and stand in front of Billy.

"Ay, sweetheart. You’re here to protect your little guy?" Dell snorted and grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards him. "How about you and I get out of here and maybe I won’t give him another black eye?" he slurred, his grip tightening.

(Y/N) tried to pull away, her voice steady despite her fear. "Let go of me."

Dell laughed, a cruel sound that sent a wave of anger through Dalton. Before (Y/N) could say anything more, Dalton was there, his presence a wall of protection between her and Dell.

"She asked you to let go." Dalton said, his voice calm but firm.

"Who the hell are you?" Dell sneered.

"Dalton," he replied calmly. "And you're done causing trouble here."

Dell scoffed, but he released (Y/N). "What are you gonna do about it, Dalton?"

Dalton didn't respond. Instead, he moved with a speed that caught Dell off guard. In a matter of seconds, Dell was on the ground, gasping for breath and clutching his stomach where Dalton had landed a perfectly aimed punch.

The bar fell silent; every eye now was on Dalton. He looked around, making sure his message was clear. There was something about him that commanded respect. "This bar is under new management. Anyone who wants to cause trouble will have to answer to me."

Dell scrambled to his feet, fury in his eyes. He charged at Dalton, but Dalton sidestepped, using Dell's momentum against him. Dell crashed into a table, breaking it under his weight. The crowd burst into cheers, and a couple of regulars moved to help Dalton drag Dell's friends out of the bar.

Once Dell and the others were outside, Dalton turned back to (Y/N). She was shaken but unharmed, her eyes filled with gratitude.

"Thank you," she said, her voice a little shaky. "He’s been a problem for a while, but it was the first time he…" she tried to continue but felt a hand on her shoulders.

Dalton gave her a reassuring smile. "You don't have to worry about him anymore. If he comes back, he'll regret it."

(Y/N) nodded, relief washing over her. As the bar slowly returned to its usual noise and chaos, she felt a newfound sense of safety. (Y/N) handed him another beer, on the house this time. With Dalton around, she knew she could handle whatever came her way.

And as for Dalton, he couldn't help but feel a deepening admiration for (Y/N). She was strong and brave, and he was determined to make sure she never had to face trouble alone again.

[gyllenhaalstories]

BODIES IN THE SAND — ELWOOD DALTON 🎂

summary: it’s your birthday and dalton wanted to make it special.

warnings: eating, mostly fluff & smut (making out, thigh riding). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2730

gifs credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: today is my birthday and i am, for the fourth year in a row, making it everyone’s problem with a (very boring) self indulgent fic. 🎈 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

The dock master waved at you when you passed by. You did not leave him enough time to repeat his speech about watching out for the damn crocs like a broken record. You had visited the Glass Key Marina so many times since meeting Dalton, one could think the old man would spare you the lecture. Whatever. This time, you ignored him. You stormed towards the wooden pier on a mission.

Dalton, now confident in Billy and Reef's abilities to handle the unruly patrons on their own (if they remembered to lift with their knees), allowed himself a night off from time to time. The pay as the bouncer of the roadhouse supported him plenty anyway. He did not splurge much, judging by the fishing box overflowing with stacks of cash. When he did spend his money, he would buy all the books Charlie recommended to him or he would treat you to his new favourite food, conch chowder.

You were usually the first person to know about his sporadic vacations, except for today. You drove to the roadhouse and Laura greeted you with a perplexed smile as to why you were there without Dalton. Frankie walked down the stairs from her office and expressed the same level of confusion. "Dalton called, said he's sick. I think the boat dreams are getting to him. Took him long enough." She explained before helping her employees to get the bar ready for another night. Dalton, sick? You stormed out of the bar with the same determination that made you beeline to The Boat.

"There you are." Dalton, who sat on the railing of the boat, stood up and turned around to greet you. The look on your face, painted with surprise, satisfied him, it was worth spending the entire afternoon decorating his corner of the marina. "Happy birthday."

You stood on a creaky wood plank and took in the scene. Orange balloons matched the colours of the sky as the early sunset reflected on the water. There were garlands and streamers, basically anything that could make the dock look festive. You scoffed at the Happy Thanksgiving banner attached to the back of the boat that clashed with the rest.

Dalton quickly justified. "I know... 'Was all Charlie could find." He worked on the ribbon of the balloon he had previously secured on the railing and held on it tight. He raised his leg to get off the boat, but you interrupted.

"I appreciate the thought. This looks so..." You spun on your heels and admired the decorations for a few more seconds. "This looks really nice. But that still won't get me to climb on that thing. It's literally sinking." You pointed at the rusty boat that the dock master constantly referred to as a frying pan. You wholeheartedly agreed with the older man.

"It's not sinking." He leaped from the boat to the dock. The tone of his voice failed to convince you. "... Yet." You both nodded in agreement. Not yet. Soon enough, Dalton would be taking a nap with the crocodile.

You let him come to you.

He tilted his head, eyes squinting at you. "You know, those little footsteps of yours sounded furious. Everything okay?" He clenched his jaw, already bracing up for bad news. It was all he seemed to attract: bad news.

"I should be asking you! Are you okay? I went to the bar and Frankie said you were sick."

"I don't get sick." He shook his head lightly.

"Then why did she tell me that?"

"Oh, I asked her to." He marked a pause, as if that was enough information. You pressed him to grant you with more details. "I thought it was a good excuse." There was a hint of pride in his grin.

"A good excuse that worried me a lot." Your attempt at reprimanding him failed miserably, especially when his grin widened while he stepped closer to you.

Dalton carefully tied the ribbon of the balloon around your right wrist. He then flicked the balloon, watching it bop. "Charlie and I have been planning this for a little while. Couldn't find a proper banner in time." His chin pointed at the Thanksgiving wishes.

"You can say something cheesy to make up for it." You suggested with a chuckle.

"I'm thankful that you're born?" Although he said it like a question, he was certain in the sincerity behind his words.

"That does the job." You both exchanged a moment of laughter. "Thank you for taking the time to decorate for my birthday."

"There's more." He guided you off the dock and through the makeshift path to the beach, always hovering a hand over your lower back to make sure he would be quick to react if you fell.

You let Dalton walk by the shore. Although you did not mind feeling the water run over your feet and ankles, he had insisted enough times that it was safer for you to stay on the other side. So you just let him do what he wanted. Your hand brushed over his a few times and you caught sight of the smirk on his lips.

He also noticed your head was turned towards the water so he pulled you to stand in front of him. He lost no time to hold your hand when you reached behind to grab his. Dalton mouthed a quiet wow when he took in just how beautiful you looked with the pink sunset sky.

Things were simple with Dalton. He did not talk much about what lead him to Glass Key, but you learned enough snippets of his life to know he wanted things to remain this way: simple. He liked the way you weaved yourself through the routine he built since working at the roadhouse. You'd visit before work, at work, after... You would hang out at the bookstore with Charlie, you would sit by the bar with Laura. It all felt simple. He did not hide his appreciation for the time you shared. He showed honesty in his intentions with you when a kiss turned into a lot more one too many times. Plenty of whispered praises, plenty of love filled gazes. You took it one day at a time with Dalton. And today was a special day in more ways than one.

Dalton bumped against you when you stopped walking abruptly at the sight of the makeshift picnic set up. Beach towels laid on the sand and held in place by a bunch of rocks and a pretty conch shell. It looked a little funky but he knew you could not care less. "After my first shift at the bar, Frankie told me this whole sales pitch about the place." He let go of your hand so you could wander towards the beach towels. "She said this was a beautiful spot to have a drink with someone special." Frankie was talking about the roadhouse, not the beach at the back of the marina but... It was close enough.

"She must be right." You sat down on the towel, Dalton joined you. He attempted to say something else, but the balloon floating in the evening breeze distracted him. You watched him intently as he untied the ribbon from your wrist and attached it to the handle of the cooler.

You exchanged a smile and enjoyed more of the sunset. You wondered to yourself how people could live in a beautiful place such as this and forget to pay attention. How could someone get used to a view like this? You certainly could never. You knew Dalton felt the same.

And Dalton knew what you were thinking about. He had travelled quite a bit, both for work and to escape it. He faced the same reflection time after time. "I don't know." He broke the silence, answering your unspoken question. "Maybe they don't have the right person by their side to remind them to appreciate the moment."

"I like the sound of that." You shifted closer to him and his hand slid along your lower back to find its place on your hip. "It's romantic."

"Wait 'til you hear about what I baked for your birthday..." He let out a small grunt when he stretched his arm towards the cooler to pull it closer.

"You can bake?"

"Nope." He opened the cooler and tilted in your direction. "But Charlie can." Kind of. He let you take a peak inside to admire the cupcakes that he prepared with the teenager and with Stephen on supervision duty.

You found it so endearing how he formed a bond with Charlie. Dalton even grew to like her comparisons to western novels and cowboy boots wearing broody heroes. You leaned in to admire the desserts and chuckled at the sight. "They're all squished."

"Shit." Dalton whispered at the sight of the dozen of misshapen cupcakes. He pulled out the tray and set it on the beach towel. He selected one that sort of held its shape during the transport from Charlie and Stephen's house to the beach. "I swear, I frosted them all nice for you." He grinned apologetically.

You grabbed the cupcake from his hand and took a bite. You swallowed thickly and tried to contain a funny face. "These are..."

"Burnt as hell." He stole a bite from the same cupcake and grimaced. He looked down at the rest of the desserts and began to explain that he was sorry, that he really tried to make your birthday special.

You interrupted him with a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "There was frosting." It was not entirely false, but you hoped this would stop the train of thoughts.

He still looked unsure, he worried that he had messed up.

So you kissed him again, on the same spot. You would usually let him lead and make the the first move so he would not feel trapped, but you wanted to reassure him. "Spending time with you is a nice gift on its own. So this?" You gestured around you. "This is great. And this." You held his head in your hands for a few moments, waiting for his lips to curl into a smile. "It's all I need to have a good time."

The smile stayed glued on his face even when you pulled away. You reached for the cupcake again and Dalton took it from your hand to put it back on the tray, slamming the cooler shut for good.

"You can't waste the cupcakes, you worked so hard to bake them for me." You would have eaten a couple of the sweets had he not stopped you, you wanted Dalton to know you liked the gesture.

"Then the crocodile can have them." You nodded, agreeing with his idea.

"Maybe he'll spare you for another night."

The sound of yours and Dalton's laughter blended together as one. "That's exactly what I was thinking." He replied.

"I know I just said I'm having a good time, but..." You crawled to kneel between his legs. You sat back, keeping a safe distance to let Dalton decide. "We can make it even better."

He considered the implications of your offer. Now, he felt like he was the one being celebrated. You were a real treat, kneeling before him with a gaze he had seen many times before. You wanted more... You wanted him. Dalton leaned in, glancing between your eyes and your lips.

You let him come closer until your mouths met in a gentle kiss, mirroring what you did moments ago.

His nose brushed against yours while he left you longing for another kiss. The small nod of his head told you everything you needed to know.

You erased the distance completely and kissed him again with your head tilted to the side.

Dalton's fingertips caressed along your arms and guided you to wrap them around his neck. He deepened the kiss when he felt one of your hands cradling the back of his head.

You hummed when his hands began to explore your body. The gentle touching up and down your back grew in eagerness.

Dalton's hands gripped firmly on your hips, pulling you closer. He placed a hand under your thigh and positioned you how he wanted. He took it slow, one step at a time. His hand travelled back up to the curve of your ass that he squeezed a little bit harsher than you expected.

The whimper you let out only encouraged him to keep going while his feverish touches fuelled you to take this further. Your tongue traced his lips before he parted his mouth open.

Your tongues danced together while he let go of you briefly to unbutton his shirt. Immediately after, your hands were all over him. Your fingertips followed the shape of his collarbone down to the curve of his pecs to end on the valley between his abs. You printed each and every detail of Dalton in your mind.

Your loving touch spread goosebumps on his skin, or perhaps it was the breeze getting cooler. The sunset reached its last instants, the sun appeared to be swallowed by the ocean far beyond the horizon. The marina was peaceful, but not quiet. Soft whimpers and grunts filled the silence as the waves slowly hit the sand.

You paused to catch your breath, Dalton could not take his eyes off your kiss swollen lips. "Wanna make you feel good." He whispered against your lips before leaning in again to let his tongue invade your mouth. His hands rested on your hips, squeezing the flesh and making your body move back and forth.

You ached from the lack of direct contact with him, you needed to feel him. But, again, you wanted to respect how far he seemed willing to go.

So he put his words into actions. Dalton made you straddle his thigh, trying to adjust the best he could to make sure you were comfortable. With his hands on your ass again, he began to make you grind on him. At first the movements were tentative, he let you adjust to the friction between your core and the clothes. But when you moaned at his ear, he could no longer hold back.

You rocked your hips back and forth, succumbing to the ever-growing hunger for more. More of this heated intimacy, more of Dalton's warm skin on yours... More.

Every time a door opened, Dalton closed it by repeating that you were a nice person, that you did not want to know him in that way, that you did not want to get close to him.

Yet, you waited. You showed him you had all the patience in the world for him. You showed that you were not out to get him, that you simply wanted to make Dalton feel good too.

You succeeded. The more you waited and reassured him that you would respect his boundaries, the more Dalton wanted to explore what lied beyond those limits.

"I don't want to stop." You murmured at his ear, trailing kisses from his ear and along his jaw until your lips connected again.

"I don't wanna stop either." His grip tightened on your hips, forcing you to slow down. "But since you refuse to get on the boat with me..."

You remained categorical, he would never convince you to step foot in that death trap. "We can go back to my place."

"Oh yeah?" Dalton kept you immobile, pressed down on his thigh. Your whine of complaint sounded like music to his ears. "You think you can wait that long?" It was quite the drive between the beach and your home. If either of you had the genuine intention to leave, you would have done in a while ago. "I'm not too sure about that."

You scoffed at his assumption. "Can you wait?"

Dalton answered your question by capturing your lips with his in a rough kiss. He slowly, carefully, helped you to lay on your back. He guided your legs apart to make space, his gaze meeting yours while his hands caressed your thighs. He let the tension build, he needed you to give him one more sign that you wanted this just as much as he did. When your hips bucked forward, your body pressing more against his, he grinned. "I've waited long enough."

[rebeccaotool]

*Sitting in my corner, waiting for The Blues Brothers/Blues Brothers 2000 to get rediscovered*

The series has:

Neurodivergent representation (Dan Akroyd is Autistic IRL, and arguably his character Elwood Blues).

Platforming minority artists, many of whom had fallen out of the limelight during the time of the first film.

Explicit condemnation of Nazis, white supremacy, and cops.

Musical numbers across a variety of generas, often by some of the best artists in the business.

Multiple car chases.

Support for found families.

A little light on female representation, but when there are women they typically kick ass. Including but not limited to Carrie Fisher, Nia Peeples, and Aretha Franklin.

Now, are either of these movies perfect? No. There are a few oofs. Fewer than you'd expect, though. And they're definitely overdue to be rediscovered.

Then we can all chuckle at the conservatives tearing their hair out about the films being 'woke' to boot.

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

warnings: swearing, fighting, yelling

I shook my head as I took in the car in the driveway. All day, I’d been considering taking a baseball bat to it. But it wouldn’t do any good. There wasn’t enough money left in the bank to fix the damage I would do. Unlocking the door, I rolled my eyes at the hat sitting on the table next to the keys to the car. The black jacket on the wall further annoyed me.

“hey!” Elwood called, walking into the living room. He was wiping his hands on a rag. “How was work?” His smiled fell when he saw my face. “Shit day huh?”

“oh I don’t know Elwood.” I said, putting my hands on my hips. “You tell me. Given how you blew off your job to spend our entire life’s savings.” He gulped and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“oh. You heard about that?” He asked, eyes starting to drift down to his feet. I put my hands on my hips.

“yeah. I heard about that.” I shot back. Elwood rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at me. “You didn’t think the bank would call? When you took everything out of our account?”

“It wasn’t everything.” Elwood muttered.

“ok no.” I sighed, rubbing my forehead. “It wasn’t everything. But it was most of our lives savings Elwood. We were supposed to have that for when we retired. Wanted to go on vacation. Do things together. Things we decided on together. How could you?” Elwood shifted his weight and chewed on his lip.

“it needed it.” Elwood whispered. He moved to head back into the kitchen but I followed him.

“the bluesmobile needed it?” I cried. “What was so wrong with it before that it needed the money?”

“I have to add modifications to it.” Elwood said. “Make it safer.”

“Elwood…” I breathed out, trying to calm the rage that was burning inside me. “It’s an old cop car. It’s the safest car out there. What the ever loving fuck could you do to it to make it safer?” Elwood put his hands on the counter and leaned his weight against it.

“a few things actually.” He said. His voice was oddly even and flat. “Better seat belts. Fix the suspension. The shocks.”

“I don’t give a shit Elwood!” I cried. “What I give an shit about is that you took our hard earned money and blew it on a goddamn car!”

“it wasn’t just the fucking car!” Elwood exploded, turning to look at me. “I almost got into an accident the other day! Because of Jake. And Matt almost went through the window!” I nodded. Elwood had come home pretty shaken up after it had happened. I’d pried him from the front seat and made him come into the house. “It coulda been you. And that fucking terrifies me. Add in the fact Jake’s gonna have a kid…” Elwood shook his head as his anger started to subside. “I had to. Ok? For you. For me. For Jake. For this fucking kid. I just had to.” I stood there in shock.

“Jake’s gonna be a dad?” I asked, all the anger leaving me. “You’re gonna be an uncle?” Elwood nodded.

“he found out this morning.” Elwood said. “Carrie or Carla or whatever her name is. The on again off again one.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Doesn’t even know if it’s his and he’s going fucking nuts. Talking about changing things up and settling down and raising this kid.” He shrugged. “I don’t know.” He sighed and ran a hand down his face.

“Elwood…” I reached out for him and Elwood shot over, wrapping his arms around me tightly and burying his face in my neck. “I’m not happy about it. But I understand.” I buried my fingers in his hair and kissed his cheek. I started to giggle and Elwood pinched my side.

“What?” He said. It turned into a full blown laugh as Elwood smiled against my neck.

“You’re just as bad as Jake.” I said. Elwood pulled back with a frown. “You babyproofed the bluesmobile.” He tried not to smile but the corners of his mouth quirked up. Elwood ran a hand through his hair and turned away from me.

“shut up.” He chuckled.

“it’s cute!” I shot back. Elwood shook his head and blushed. “Really it is. Shows how protective you are.”

“it’s just…I’m concerned you know?” He said. “First that happens and then Jake finds out he’s gonna be a dad and I just…panicked.” I cupped his cheeks and kissed him.

“I really am still pissed about you not saying anything to me about taking all our money to do this.” Elwood nodded and wrapped his hands around my wrists. “But it’s understandable. Especially after everything that’s happened.”

“I am sorry I didn’t mention it to you. I should have. But I know you get busy and stressed and I didn’t want to make it worse.” Elwood said, leaning in and kissing me softly.

“Elwood, you calling me and telling me this would have been so much less stressful than the fucking bank calling me.” I said. Elwood chuckled and nodded.

“understood.” He said. I smiled at him as I rubbed my thumb over his cheek.

“now.” I said, moving my hand to pat his chest. “Show me these modifications.” Elwood lit up and took my hand, pulling me outside to show me what he had done to the car.

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Chapter 1: With Beating Hearts

Eugene Roe x Violet Elwood

Summary: Violet was living a quiet life during the summer of 1941 in Morgan City, Louisiana when she meets Eugene Roe when he stumbles into her families shop. But Violet has a devastating secret that she’s keeping and it’s sure to break Eugene’s heart. They can only hope their love endures and it doesn’t die as a summer romance. Masterlist

8th June 1943, Morgan City, Louisiana

Eugene’s shoes tapped rhythmically at the pavement as he hurried after his older sisters, their curls bouncing as they shouted over their shoulders for him to ‘hurry up’. He wasn’t entirely sure what the rush was, a new convenience store opening in town wasn’t necessarily the exciting point of the summer, or it wasn’t to a 19-year-old boy. Eugene often wondered what his life would be like if he’d had older brothers. They would be out, exploring and playing but instead, he’d been taught to sow with his sisters and cook. ‘You never know when you’ll need to fix a hole in your trousers’, his mother had always told him, and in hindsight, it was a useful skill for him to have. His two younger brothers often got out of the simple household chores. ‘You’re the man of the house’ his father often told him when he went off to work and Eugene believed him, but really his older sisters were in charge.

The hot Louisiana summer had only just begun, and yet for June, it was exceptionally warm. His shirt stuck to his back, as sweat travelled down the valley of his spine. His troubles were not helped by the bundle of bags and the basket he carried, while his sisters skipped along the street in front of him. How he’d been volunteered for this he wasn’t sure.

He could see his sister had stopped beside the shop ahead of him, glaring at him as he quickened his pace to catch up.

“I swear Eugene, if you walked any slower you’d be going backwards,” his oldest sister, Minnie, grumbled and Eugene stuck his tongue out at her once she had turned around. Siblings, who would have them?

The bell above the door chimed, announcing their arrival and the girls quickly scattered, leaving Eugene and all the bags in the doorway. Deciding that no one was likely to steal the bags, he stacked them in the corner before making his way down one of the aisles. He had to admit this shop sure did have everything and he picked himself up an apple on the way past the fruit stand, rummaging to find a nice red one.

Knowing his sisters were likely to spend the next hour investigating the new shop, Eugene headed towards the empty counter to pay. There was no one in sight since he’d entered the shop so he chimed the bell on the countertop, waiting for the owner to reveal themselves. A flash of blonde hair shot past him and dashed behind the counter with a gleaming smile. Her lips were moving in slow motion and Eugene blinked expressionlessly.

He’d never seen someone so beautiful, her blonde locks in perfect curls, framing her pale face, her blue eyes sparkling in the dim shop lightening.

“Excuse me? Can I help you?” She asked again and Eugene stuttered, stumbling over his words as he apologised, asked the girl her name and all but threw his money at her.

Her eyes widened a little as she began to collect the money, picking up several of the coins and passing them back to him.

“Are you okay?” Her eyebrows creased as she questioned him and if Eugene hadn’t been frozen to the spot he might have run out of the store there and then.

“Y-yes…” he wheezed, seemingly unable to breathe at that precise moment. His cheeks grew redder by the minute as he continued to stare at her.

“Okay then,” the girl turned, putting the money into the cashier, “Well, as you asked so nicely,” she laughed and Eugene felt his throat tighten as the jovial tune left her mouth. “My name is Violet, and you are?”

“Eugene, Eugene Roe ma’am and I think you're so beautiful, would you like to go out… sometime… with me… Eugene Roe.” If he could have one wish, he’d have wished for the ground to swallow him up. It’s not that he’d ever been terribly confident with women anyway, but this was just embarrassing.

“Well, Eugene, Eugene Roe,” she grinned, copying how he’d stumbled over his words. “It’s nothing personal but I don’t go out with strangers and I don’t know you.”

Eugene’s forehead creased, “Well how ‘bout ya go out with me and we getta know each other, then we won’t be strangers,” Eugene tried to reason.

Violet tilted her head, “Well, you’ve got me there Eugene, Eugene Roe.”

Before she could say anything else, Eugene’s sisters came around the corner, with bundles of supplies in their arms. He wasn’t sure if they needed all this stuff, they were exactly the richest family but his sisters seemed to be stocking up for hibernation.

“Stop harassing the poor girl, Eugene,” Winnie groaned and Minnie just rolled her eyes. “Go grab the bags, Gene.”

Eugene did as he was told, giving Violet a brief wave before disappearing from view. Violet smiled, watching him go. He was an odd character but he seemed nice enough.

The two girls began bickering as they bundled their goods into two very small bags and Violet took this as her opportunity to escape from behind the counter.

She found Eugene standing outside the shop, his eyes closed and his face turned towards the sky, taking in the late afternoon rays.

“Well, Eugene, Eugene Roe. You don’t seem like a bad guy and I don’t think you’re gonna murder me, so why don’t you pick me up on Saturday at 7?”

Violet was suddenly worried that Eugene was having some kind of heart attack from the way his face paled and she stepped forward before he began nodding animatedly.

“Yes, yes that will do nicely. Yes. Thank you.” Why couldn’t he learn to shut up? Eugene cursed himself mentally. “And Gene is fine.” He corrected Violet and she laughed lightly.

“Sure thing, Gene. I’ll see you Saturday.” She waved him goodbye before disappearing back inside, the clang of the bell tolling and announcing his sister's departure from the shop.

“What was all that ‘bout?” Minnie quizzed him as they began their walk towards home.

“Oh… nothing. Just gave me the wrong change is all.” His sisters didn’t press the subject and Eugene wouldn’t have told them anyway, but he couldn’t help the excited butterflies building in his stomach. He was going on his first date on Saturday.

Eugene Roe had to admit that he was a nervous man, he worried about the slightest little thing and often found his stomach in knots, his anxiety eating away at him when he had something important coming up.

Since his first encounter with Violet, he’d been buzzing with nervous energy. His heart pounding any time someone mentioned her family's shop or Saturday. In fact, his mind was constantly awash with images of her, despite having only seen her once.

He’d sit for hours, tracing her face on his knee as he sat watching his sisters squabble over something irrelevant. He’d even managed to change his route to work, just so he could walk past the shop. Unfortunately, he’d managed to bump into every other member of Violet’s family, except Violet herself.

Saturday came around all too quickly but too slowly at the same time, and by quarter past six on Saturday evening Eugene felt as though he was either going to combust and melt. He wasn’t sure which option was worse but the fear of rejection was worse. What would happen if she changed her mind? What was he supposed to do then?

His mother had tried to reassure him the best she could, having heard all about Eugene’s first crush from his rather annoying older sisters. His younger brothers on the other hand decided to tell him how much they disliked girls, which also didn’t help the argument.

“Would you lot just leave him alone!” His mother's voice had bellowed over the cacophony of rambunctious chattering. The kitchen fell into silence, and even Eugene’s father, who sat in his armchair with his pipe hanging from the corner of his mouth, chose to stay silent.

“Eugene, Darling, you look perfect. No, your hair is fine,” his mother ushered his hand away as he tried to smooth his hair down once more. “Now go. Have a lovely time and be sure to have her home by a sensible time.”

Eugene scurried out of the house as fast as he could, ignoring the shouts of his siblings and his father’s ’go get her son’.

The walk to the store wasn’t more than ten minutes from his house but Eugene found himself dragging his feet. ‘She’d said seven not six forty’, he cursed, annoyed that he’d rushed to get ready but his nervous energy carried him forward.

Once outside the store Eugene could feel his gut tightening, if it was squeezed any tighter he thought he was going to vomit, the stomach acid already building in his throat. Before he could chicken out, his knuckles wrapped against the front door. There was some shuffling around inside before a short, bearded man appeared on the other side. He unlocked the door and glared at Eugene.

“We’re closed! Can’t you read the damn sign,” he spoke gruffly, lighting a cigarette as his eyes bore into Eugene’s soul.

Eugene shuffled nervously from foot to foot as he stumbled over his words, “W-well Sir, I- I’m here to… to see Violet.”

The man continued glaring at him, his eyes travelling up and down Eugene’s frame, squinting when their eyes met. Eugene felt as though he was vibrating and his hand shook as he smoothed it over his dark locks nervously, while he tried not to squeeze the bunch of flowers in his other hand.

“Well, I guess you’d betta come in. Vi is upstairs getting ready,” her father all but dragged him through the door, slamming it closed aggressively.

“This way,” he pushed Eugene through the shop and out the door behind the counter which led into a long hallway. It was rather dark but a light room lay at the end which Eugene assumed was the sitting room. “Take a seat.”

Eugene did as he was told, sitting quickly on one of the wooden chairs. Her father sat opposite him, nursing his glass of whiskey with an unnerving smirk. Eugene dug his fingers into the collar of his shirt, trying to reduce the claustrophobic feeling.

They sat in silence until two faces appeared at the top of the stairs, the girls were giggling and despite his best efforts, Eugene blushed furiously under their gaze. They looked a lot like Violet but a little younger, Eugene noted. The girls were whispering to each other and it was more than clear that they were talking about him before they scurried out of view.

The next person to appear at the top of the stairs was Violet, and Eugene’s legs forced his legs to stand. Violet was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her blonde locks were curled, framing her face while her rouged lips spread into a wide smile. The blue dress adorning her figure, hugging her curves flowed around her legs as she descended the stairs.

“Wow,” Eugene whispered, as Violet stepped in front of him. “You’re da most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

It was Violet's turn to blush, biting her lip nervously as she smiled shyly. “Thank you, Eugene. You don’t scrub up too badly yourself.”

“These are for you,” Eugene pushed the bunch of Violets towards her and she grinned, accepting the flowers and passing them to one of the younger blonde girls.

“Thank you. I see you’ve already met my daddy. This is my mumma,” she pointed to an older blonde lady behind her who greeted Eugene with a small wave. “And these are my sisters, Rose and Lilly.”

Eugene greeted the other girls and the older of the two, Eugene guessed she was Rose, and leant forward. “Vi here hasn’t spoken of anything else since she met you. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

Violet smacked her sister playfully and Eugene found himself blushing once more.

“You two should be headin’ off before it gets too late,” her father said, “It’s gooda meet ya, Eugene. You have her back by ten, okay?”

“Sure thing, Sir,” he took her father's hand and shook it before Violet linked her arm through Eugene’s and pulled him away.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Violet apologised once they were out of the shop. “They can be a little much sometimes.”

Eugene grinned, “Not at all. They seem real nice folks.”

Violet laughed, “Well, they promised to be on their best behaviour so I’m glad ya think so.”

It was only a short walk through town to the local picture house and they reached the old building by quarter past six. The picture house was built many years before and its red wooden panels were flaking and haggard but inside it was reasonably furnished.

“I thought you could pick which film we watched. I wasn’t sure if you’ve seen any of them yet,” Eugene mumbled shyly as they approached the ticket boot.

Violet smiled, approaching the booth, “Can we have two tickets to see…” she pondered for a moment looking at the film posters above their heads. “They met in Bombay.”

The ticket masters passed over two tickets and Eugene passed him the money. Violet grasped Eugene’s hand, pulling him through the crowd, “Come on, let’s get some good seats.”

Eugene followed Violet up the winding staircase to the studio. Violet paused at the top of the stairs, breathing a little heavily now. “Those are some steep steps,” she laughed and Eugene nodded in agreement, despite having taken the steps two at a time with ease.

They found some seats down the middle aisle and made themselves comfortable.

“What made you choose this film,” Eugene asked curiously as he studied her face in the dim lights. Her rosy cheeks reflected pale in the light and Eugene realised that this is what an angel must look like.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, turning to face him with a smirk on her lips, “I’ve only been to the cinema once so I just picked one at random.” She laughed lightly at Eugene’s amused expression.

The lights soon dimmed further as the screen came to life with black and white images. Eugene’s heart sank as the images of soldiers appeared on the silver screen and news of the war in Europe was projected to the audience. It was inevitable that he’d end up fighting, every able-bodied man of fighting age would. As if she could sense something was wrong, Violet grasped Eugene’s hand and gave it a small squeeze before placing their joined hands on the armrest. Eugene was glad of the dark room because if he blushed any more tonight he’d be in a permeated state of red.

The film rolled by quickly and before Eugene knew it the lights came back up and Violet was grinning at him. He blushed, realising he’d been looking at her again, in fact, he wasn’t sure how much he’d actually seen of the film, too busy studying her features.

“If you take a picture, it will last longer,” Violet jested and Eugene looked down at his shoes, “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Violet assured him, squeezing his hand gently, “I like it when you look at me.”

All too soon they were back outside, strolling arm in arm along the now quiet, cool streets of Morgan City. Eugene’s heart thumped against his ribcage with every step as he tried to keep his thoughts from running wild. Violet could sense his eyes on her and she looked up at him, her blue eyes setting his heart alight.

“I had a wonderful time tonight, Eugene. I can’t thank you enough. I’ve never had an evening like this,” Violet smiled, stopping in her tracks and causing Eugene to stop beside her. She leant forward, pressing her lips softly to his cheek. Eugene couldn’t help but blush again. It was the kind of blushing that shows a person's soul, and complimented his eyes and the delicate sweetness they held within. “Thank you.”

“I think I shou’ be the one thanking you, Violet,” Eugene reached out, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “I had an amazing time tonight. Could’a see you again sometime?”

“You certainly can,” Violet agreed, clutching Eugene’s hand once more. “Come on, my Daddy will be expecting me home.” As the pair continued their walk down the street, Eugene felt a sense of great relief filling his soul, his first date had been a success and maybe, just maybe this was the start of something beautiful.

Tags: @blueberry-ovaries @mads-weasley @coco-bean-1218 @she-wolf09231982 @georgieluz @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @allthingsimagines @bucky32557038ww2 @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @msmercury84 @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @hanniewinnix @inglourious-imagines @l13bg0tt @xxluckystrike @hogwartslegacypics @softguarnere

[courtingchaos]

Tease

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: Eddie finally texts you but like, at what cost?

A/N: More fboy!Eddie, I guess I'm turning this into a series? I don't know. Here's Dangerous, essentially part 1.

Warnings: Sex, minor alcohol use, same douchebaggery from Reader and Eddie 18+ NSFW Minors gtfo please

He won’t tell you anything, just asks for your address. You debate for a while, milling around your apartment, digging through your sparse fridge. It’s been two weeks since Rick’s basement and you won’t lie to yourself, you’ve been waiting to hear from Eddie. You’d gotten his number from Steve so you could give him a stupid little nickname that would pop up when he eventually texted. Every day you’d look at your home screen and sift through a hundred tiktok’s from Lisa, looking for the little bat emoji you’d assigned him. Every day you wouldn’t be the first to text. 

Apparently 10 minutes is too long and he double texts you ‘address??’. You send it, asking again where you’re going. He just reminds you that you’ve got an hour. 

Glancing at the time you sigh, undoing the comfort you’d sunk into after work. He better make it worth it, these were dryer warm joggers. 

Its a nice night, a little warm still but since you have no idea what you’re doing or where you’re going, you pull your hair back into a long braid to save time. Finding an outfit had taken most of the hour but you’d remembered the baby pink dress you hadn’t worn yet. Another pair of ankle heels, nude and strappy, and all your gold. Expensive armor dainty and glittering along your ears and across your fingers, single thin rope laying on the high collar of the dress. 

‘Here’

Flicking open the blinds in your bedroom to look down at the parking lot, there’s a black challenger idling outside your building with a faint puff of smoke from the drivers window. 

‘My chariot awaits’

You take the steps slow while you shove your card and ID into your phone case, keys clutched against the screen. Your new set makes it hard to push the case back on the corner of the phone and you pause, struggling. The sound of a window rolling down and Eddie’s voice echos off the side of your building. 

“You good?” He sucks on one of those dumb little vapes and your sure his car smells like fake strawberries from it. 

“Oh I am now.” You smirk, looking at him from under your brows. A slow approach to his car and when you stop at his door you bend at the waist to look in at him. Yeah, fake strawberry. “Well don’t you look handsome.” You reach in and pull on a damp curl. He’s got a black button up on, sleeves rolled to his elbows and top three buttons undone. That thin chain just hidden under his collar. 

“Get in.”

“Hello to you too.” The curl bounces back against his face and you walk around the front of his car so he has to watch you look soft in your tight dress. 

The car is low but you slide in like you’ve done it a thousand times. You drop your keys in his cup holder and reach for your seatbelt, looking over at him. 

“You gonna tell me where we’re going?” Honestly you’re a little annoyed. You thought he was maybe being cute about it, would tell you once you got in the car but he just smiles quick at you and pulls out of your complex. “Seriously Eddie.”

“A bar.”

“Sure. Where.”

“Over in Elwood.”

“…that’s 45 minutes away.” He just frowns, not taking his eyes off the road. “I’m gonna get out at the next red light if you don’t tell me where you’re taking me.” You say that with some finality. 

You know that Eddie isn’t dangerous like some of the other guys. He’s a little mean sure, a little standoffish. Holds his own normally if anyone feels the need to test his limits but you aren’t worried about him doing anything violent or weird. You’re just pissed because you got out of your pajamas and painted on a new face for him to just shrug at you. The approaching light turns yellow and he guns it. You have to laugh. 

“I need to go pick something up and if I go by myself it’ll look strange.” Another hit off his vape. 

“Why me?”

“Why not?” He does look at you then, eyebrows raised and a grin that shows a glint of his teeth. 

Dick. 

“Did I draw the short straw?”

“You just know how to handle yourself better than the others.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t think you’d be hanging around Lisa and her bunch if you didn’t.”

“I work with Lisa, we bartend.” You cross your arms and turn to face him better. “I’m not sure what you’re implying Eddie.” 

“I asked around. You and her keep the girls outta trouble right?” 

“You asked around.” You avoid his question and he avoids you, doesn’t even react. 

“I know you’re not fucking Rick, I would’ve had a bad night otherwise.” He shoots you another look and his hand flexes on the steering wheel, rings glinting under the passing street lamps. 

“What are you getting at?”

“You seem to stay out of most trouble, you’re good at keeping the peace and if shit does go wrong you’re good at keeping it from going nuclear.” He’s ticking fingers down on his other hand while he lists off your qualifications. “Good to have around just in case.”

“So the phenomenal head doesn’t factor into that at all?”

He laughs from deep in his chest and you’re proud of yourself for getting that much. “You did some homework.”

“Well I try not to stick my dick in crazy.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m crazy.”

“No, you are dangerous though.” There’s that word again. He used it the other day and you played along but you’re not sure what he means really. If you’re dangerous then what is he? Eddie exists at the edges of parties and the corners of Rick’s business and has somehow stayed on a pedestal amongst everyone. You know from Steve, who is another fringe member of this whole organization, that Dealer Eddie and Everywhere Else Eddie are two separate people, diametrically opposed. If he can have secrets, why can’t you?

“What’s so dangerous about me, huh?” You lean over on the center console and prop your chin on your hand to stare at the side of his face. Your other hand lands across his thigh where you catch your nail on a rip in his jeans. Wedge your finger under the fabric and scratch at him just a little. He glances down at your hand. 

“You don’t know?”

“No.” A heavy drag up his thigh to his zipper. He’s not even half hard, you didn’t expect him to be, but a little participation would be nice. “I want you to tell me.” He clears his throat, the only indication he’s maybe paying attention. “C’mon Eddie, tell me what it is that makes me so scary.” 

He’s driving a little faster now, the gps on screen says 10 minute arrival time. More than enough time to wind him up and set him loose in a strange bar. He’s apparently shy all of a sudden because he isn’t talking again. Keeping his eyes directly on the road like a good driver so you pull yourself into his space, nails digging into the inside of this thigh where you use him for leverage. His hair is soft when you brush it back to tuck behind his ear. You run a nail lightly down from his ear to his collar, pulling it back intending on sinking your teeth into his neck when you see someone else has apparently had that idea. 

“Whose handiwork is this Vlad?” You whisper close. He just huffs and shrugs a little, trying to get you to let his shirt go. “Let me guess.” Lips brush the shell of his ear and you watch a cascade of goosebumps go down his skin under his shirt. 

Oh he is paying attention.

“Was it Dani? Maybe Kim, she’s got a big mouth.” You bite his earlobe and he sighs like he’s annoyed. “Someone I don’t know? How many girls do you drive around anyways?” 

“Do you care?”

Honestly? No, but this hickey is mocking you just by being there first. 

When you sink your teeth in it’s probably a little harder than needed. It makes Eddie jump, pulling the steering wheel and jerking the car. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He’s harsh but doesn’t pull out of your grip, doesn’t slap your hands away or shove you back over into your seat. In fact, you can feel his interest growing under your hand planted on his jeans. 

“Same thing wrong with you I think.” 

It’s only an exit and a few more turns until you get to your bar. You’re practically crawling into the driver seat with him by the time he parks. Chest pressed into his shoulder, holding his neck against your mouth where you’ve doubled the size of his stupid fuckin’ hickey. 

Eddie had played aloof with you the other night while making you work for it. Tonight you’d barely made a move past palming him through his jeans and he’s trying to unbutton his pants for you. 

“What are you doing?” You pull back from his neck to watch him fumble with his button. When you glance up at his face you have to bite your lip to hide your laugh. He’s looking at you like you’re crazy, like you’re the one not understanding this situation. You pull your hand off his dick to tap your nail on the time display. “I thought you had an appointment?” Pouting seems to make him mad. 

Good

“You gave me one hour to put myself back together and I’m not gonna let you be late for this little rendezvous.” You gesture outside his windshield at the cinder block bar in front of you. He looks like murder and you scrunch up your nose up at him. “Maybe if you can get me home before 2 I’ll treat you nice.” You fall back into your seat, rearranging your dress and grabbing your phone before stepping out of his car. You lean down to look at him expectantly. “We doing this or what?”

“This.” He points at you, mean smile on his face. “This is what I mean.”

“What, fondling you in the car? Come on, if that’s the worst thing you can think of…”

“You fucking tease people-“ You cut him off by slamming his door. He shoots out, rounding around the front of his car to get in your face, effectively pinning you against the door. 

“Don’t slam my fucking door.” 

“What are you gonna do about it?” You’ve got a little taste for a fight, maybe because you aren’t on your home turf. You don’t have to worry about other drunk assholes you know that might need you to intervene. Maybe you can be the asshole tonight. “Hmm?” You hook your fingers in his belt loops and pull yourself flush against him, can feel that he’s still hard even with all this frustration. His expression softens just a tad, realization washing over his face. He rubs his jaw and huffs a laugh at you. You just want a rise out of him. 

“I’m not doing this right now. We’re gonna go inside and you’re gonna behave.” He looks you straight on. “Please.” You roll your eyes but let his jeans go, nod your head once and huff right back at him. “Thank you.” He heads back around to turn his car off and close the door, motioning for you to follow him when he heads for the front. You debate standing out in this parking lot till he comes back, leaned against his car and moody but he whistles, the sharp sound echoing off the building and you roll your eyes again. 

“I’m not a dog.” You scowl at him and start trying to pry your phone case off to get your ID. He watches, amused for a moment before snatching your phone out of your hand and pulling out your ID to hand to the bouncer. 

“No, they listen better.” 

“Dick.” Holding your hand out you expect him to just drop your stuff in your hand but it puts your phone back together again. 

“Don’t break a nail.” 

Eddie didn’t actually need you along, that much is clear. Once you two get in he stands close behind you until some guy that you’ve maybe seen before comes over. Before Eddie walks away he grabs your elbow to get you to look at him. 

“Be nice.”

“I’m so nice Eddie.” You lean into his touch, batting your lashes at him. He just gives you that detached stare you’re getting used to. 

He isn’t gone for long but it’s enough for you to start a game of pool by yourself and get a drink. The bar is a little shoddy but it’s busier than you thought it would be. The room you’ve ended up in has four tables and a handful of groups with no one paying you any mind, even if you are overdressed for this place. 

You’ve sunk half the solids when you feel a hand on your hip while you’re bent over the corner of the table and you whip around, cue clutched in your hand like a weapon. Eddie immediately backs up, hands held up in front of himself. 

“Whoa Rambo, sorry.”

“Announce yourself, Jesus.” 

“You were really gonna hit me weren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” You lean back down to finish your shot. 

“You beat a lot of guys up in pool halls?” He cocks his hip into the table, watches you sink two more balls. “You’re good at this.”

“Thank you, and no, not in pool halls.” You sigh at him. “But I have laid hands on a few men, why? Do I need to lay hands on you?”

Eddie chuckles, “Uh, no. I’m not really into slapping girls around.” 

“You coulda fooled me earlier.” 

He holds his hand out for the pool cue and you hand it over. He lays down against the table to get at a striped ball and you follow the long line of him draped over the felt. His all black is stark against the bright green, his hair falling forward where he’s trying to blow it out of the way. You pull the curls back with your index finger and he sinks one in a corner pocket. “Thanks.”

“How do you know I’m beating up guys?”

“It’s what Lisa’s gone to court over a few times. Doesn’t take a genius.”

Fair. You nod at him and finish your drink, dropping the glass at an empty table. “You all done?”

“We can finish your game.” 

You want to be funny and ask which one. That spark of fight you had earlier has been petering out, the last half hour spent alone just reminding you of your joggers at home. 

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Well then I want to finish it.” He walks to the other side of the table to eye a shot. “You want another drink?” He’s in a better mood so something went right, and he didn’t even need you. You tell him as much and he stands back up from where he was taking a shot. 

“I needed you just in case, okay?” He shrugs at you.

“Oh you know how to make a girl feel special.”

“Jesus christ.” He rubs a hand down his face and stares up at the ceiling, pool cue propped in front of him. 

You barely know him, really just what everyone else has said. You’ve heard it all from Steve and from Kim and from Dani. Heard it through parties and from Lisa when you’re both at Rick’s. Everyone either wants to fuck him or they’re singing his praises. You’ve watched him cruise through spaces with new girls on his arm all the time, watched him look uninterested and unflappable and unconcerned and maybe you wanted to get under his pretty skin. Make him a little concerned. 

“I thought you might cool off out here by yourself.” He walks around the table to lean on it, across from where you’ve propped yourself against the wall. 

“Well I did and then you showed back up.” You give him your best bedroom eyes. Run your tongue ring light against your teeth so he can see it glint, hear it clink before your pull it back in. “So this is all on you big guy.” 

“Big guy.”

“Don’t like nicknames?” You push off the wall to stroll the three feet over to him, hands tucked behind your back. “I don’t mind them, but then again I usually get the mean ones.” You stop, toe to toe with his boots. He isn’t moving or sighing or rolling his eyes, just braced against the edge of the table watching you like a hawk. You lean down to whisper close to his cheek, “Jokes on them, I like those the best.” There’s that little curl of the corner of his mouth again, like he’s trying to hide his smile from you. “You can laugh, I know I’m funny.” There’s a perfect ringlet laying against the open collar of his shirt that you’ve been staring at. You wind it around your index finger and bring your other hand to rest on his thigh. “It’s only midnight, you can still get me home on time, win that big prize.” The curl springs off your finger. “Or we can just fuck in your backseat, I’m sure there’s enough room for what, five minutes of bliss?”

The backseat of a Dodge Challenger is but a mere suggestion. You realize this only after Eddie has shoved you in behind the driver seat and folded himself in after you. His long legs tangled until he finally sits back and yanks you over his lap, pulling the heel of your shoe to help swing your knee over. Your dress is already short and with your knees splayed wide it slides right up to your hips, giving Eddie all the space to run his hands up your thighs. The roof is low so you have to stay close to him, hands gripped tight in his hair to pull him against the back dash and hold him in place while you kiss him hard. He groans when you shove your tongue in his mouth and grind down into his lap, his fingers sliding up under your thighs to grip, brushing over your thong before he breaks the kiss. 

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” You pull his hair harder and he shoves his fingers into your underwear. 

“Are you seriously this wet? Over what, our little fight?” He’s mocking you, eyes shining in the dim light filtering through his heavy tint. You scoff and pull away so you can attack his neck again, the hiss he lets out accompanied by the painful grip he has on the cuff of your ass. You hate that it pulls a whine out of you while you’ve got your teeth in him, knows he can feel it against his bruised skin when he moves his fingers further up, teasing at your hole. 

“Fuck.”

He takes your momentary lapse to pull at your braid, wrapping it around his fist twice so he can pull your head back. Your nose is pushed up against the roof and all you can do is look down at him, your hands still locked in his hair. He pulls your thong to the side, runs his thumb up the cleft of your ass to fully move it and you gasp into the headliner. His fingers slide through your pussy, pressing in at your entrance until he feels you clenching. “Oh you want it bad don’t you?” His voice is dark but you can make out the little pants between words. “I bet you’ve been waiting every day for me to text you huh?” He slowly slides his finger in and you cant your hips down to try to speed him up. “Is that why you tried to start a fight earlier?” He tilts your head back further and pumps his hand a few times before adding another finger, leans up to lick a stripe up to your chin. “Did you want me to fuck you over the pool table? Right in front of everybody, you could have really shown off tonight.” Your jaw hangs when picks up his pace, thick fingers dragging against your walls when you tighten around him. “Is this how I get you to shut up?” He moves his fingers against that soft spot and you laugh between gasps because he’s still on that?

“If you want me to shut up you can just do it yourself.”

He pulls his hand away from you, leaving you clenching after nothing, and you feel him bucking around under you. Out of the corner of your eye you see him toss his wallet and then hear his zipper. The crinkle of a foil wrapper and you make a face he can’t see. 

“Aw, you don’t trust me? I’m on the pill.” You can feel him pulling at his jeans and his cock bumps you, hot against your inner thigh. 

“No.” He lines himself up and pulls you down till you’re seated fully against him, leans his head into your chest with a groan, hand gripping your thigh to hold you still for a moment. Your happy he can’t see your face, eyes squeezed shut and lip stuck between your teeth. He’s thick, stretches you enough that you’re fluttering around him but you don’t want to give him anymore satisfaction other than what he can feel. You let your hands drop so you can brace yourself on his knees, so you can roll your hips down into him. 

“Oh fuck keep doing that.” He’s still buried in your chest, mouthing at your tit through your very nice dress, moaning against you and really he’s making it too easy. 

“I know, that feels good doesn’t it?” You whine at him. “Talk a big game Munson, I’m the star fucking ath-“ He lets go of your hair and grabs your face, big palm covering your mouth to finally shut you up. Muffled, coming out around his hand in wet bursts, you laugh. 

“Want me to shut y’up, I’ll shut y’up.” He slides down lower in the seat and bounces you forward, holds your hip steady and starts pounding up into you. It punches the air out of your lungs along with any more shit talk you had left. The stretch of his cock burns, hurts a little where he’s hitting you over and over inside but you bite his fingers when rubs his thumb over your ignored clit. 

“All you do is run y’fuckin’ mouth.” He’s keeping up his pace, bullying in to you and you’re whining behind his hand, grabbing at his shirt to try to keep yourself steady. “Don’t know when t’shut the fuck-“ You’re close and you bear down on him pushing your hips into his hand, chasing that heat growing low. A groan crawls out of your chest when he hits just right and you fall into him, hand sliding up around his neck to hang on, riding out your high. His hips stutter and he pulls you down, holding you tight to him when he comes, breathing heavy into your throat. 

You’re the first to move, peeling your hand away from his shirt and catching a glimpse of a tattoo near his collarbone. 

“Is that a D20?” 

“What?” Eddie has his eyes closed and head back, catching his breath while you prod around in his shirt. 

“Your tattoo.” You poke it and he looks down, frowning. 

“Oh, yeah.” His breath catches when you sit up and he slips out, watches you pretzel yourself to get into the front seat without getting out of the car. “DnD shit.”

You’re pulling your clothes back into place, looking around for your phone. “I took you for a Warhammer guy.” 

Eddie stops putting himself away to stare at the back of your head. “What do you know about Warhammer?” You don’t turn, just hold up your phone so he can see your background, big lady in big armor. 

“Sister of Battle.” 

Eddie doesn’t have time for this, he can feel the urge to start asking questions but he tamps it down, just wants to get you home so he can also go home. Wants to take a shower. Wants to go to bed. You are utterly tiring in a hundred different ways that he doesn’t care to examine right now. 

Halfway back to Hawkins he stops at a McDonalds because you want a milkshake and he doesn’t want to argue. In the drive thru he catches a glance at his neck in the rear view. 

He almost opens his mouth to say something but again, he’s not starting shit with you at 1:30 in the morning, not when you’ve been quiet and humming along to the radio, mindlessly scrolling your phone. 

You look up when he pulls into a spot at your apartment. “Well this was great, though I don’t expect any purses from this.” You snatch your keys and your milkshake and get out, coming around to lean down at his door. “You know Dani won’t tell any of us what she did for that bag. I’m kind of afraid to ask what kind of depraved shit you two are getting up to.” 

“Well, if she’s not talking I’m not.” Eddie is quiet, tries to take a pull off his vape and it’s dead. He was hoping he could cover up your perfume with that sugar vapor. You just hum and wink at him. “Thanks for the milkshake Eddie.” You finally start walking away and he catches two red marks on your thigh peaking out from the hem of your dress. You twist back to wave at him before climbing the stairs. 

“Call me, Vlad. This was fun.”

[pvtjxker]

They occupied my school again.

Which wouldn't be bad, if the current political condition doesn't risk us all ending up in hospital beaten by the police.

Sending you updates as soon as something happens

[ask-the-doppelganger]

{hlep I think I wrote myself into a corner and it's complicated.}

{we have multiple interlocking story threads, right. The problem ones are the town terror storyline, the lemon tree merchant, and the captive pigeon storyline. I think the best way to structure this is in a list.}

The Doppelganger is currently a pigeon. It needs to eat a lot to be able to shapeshift back into a human shape.

The Lemon Tree Merchant (joke character made by I think @/eggsforbrunch, I will tag the account afterwards) offered to sell it a lemon tree that grows clones for two strands of human hair. The clones are edible, that would solve the shapeshifting problem.

The Town Terror Storyline ties in: the victims asked for help from the Doppelganger, who agreed to help for the two strands of hair the Lemon Tree Merchant wanted for a tree.

This would lead to the Doppel being able to assume a human form again, logically, right?

Except there is ANOTHER storyline I want to make canon. I dubbed it "captive pigeon", in which @steven-rudboys and a doorman (I am pretty sure it's @/cheryl-elwood) catch the pigeon, realize it's a doppel, abd cage it, to ask it a few questions.

So I think I want to destroy that tree, but. I'm not sure how yet.

{anyway if you guys have any idea on how to detangle this mess, do tell me please.}

[lola-babylon]

Ryan didn't quit social media because of the "Panic stalker"

There's a weird narrative in certain sections of fandom that after a going through the horrible experience of being cat fished through text message by a stalker impersonating Brendon in 2013, Ryan Ross retreated like a wounded bird from all social media, never to be seen online again.

If you've found this post through the Ryan Ross tags, we'll assume you're familiar with the story of the Panic! stalker; if not, the best write up is this one from Reddit, I don't want to give them anymore publicity.

Being cat fished is horrible experience; to have it happen publicly in the guise of someone who was once a close friend must have been a ghastly experience. But however Ryan dealt with it, it wasn't by suddenly abandoning all public life, or at least online public life, in 2013. He kept posting casual shots on insta for years. All of these are photos Ryan chose to share publicly on his official instagram account, thisistherealryanross, so posting these may be a breach of IP rights but not a breach of privacy. You can see the dates they were posted on the lower right corner of the images, or go to his instagram account and check for yourself.

2014

2015

2016

2017

2018

2019

And I just wanted to add a link to this video of Dottie, because she's just so darn cute. (There's a tonne of cute Dottie posts, but the lady has her own Tumblr so I'll leave it at that).

Ryan does seem to have stopped posting any personal or social pics in 2020, but that was such a batshit crazy year who knows what any of us were doing? If he decided to step back from social media, if that was a decision that worked for him then and still does now, cool. (Sure we'd like to see a few more pics of Dottie and Elwood, but if not, we're not owed).

Painting Ryan Ross as a tragic recluse haunted from public life and social media after a catfishing incident is demeaning to Ryan for the same reason as the misleading narrative that his legacy was stolen by Brendon Urie, leaving Ryan broke and broken; telling it like that robs the man of his agency, and I'm sure if he knew he'd be exasperated at being turned into the Syd Barrett of emo.

[savemewattpad]

Wicked and Divine: Part 1, Chapter 1

all her life, she's bound to lose...

Summary:

When John Winchester gets a call from a thirteen-year-old girl claiming to be his daughter, he and Dean go to investigate, bringing them into a complicated web woven by a charismatic cult leader named David Elwood--who also claims to be the girl's "husband."

Or, how Esther Smith became Leila Winchester.

Warnings: Sexual Abuse, Religious Abuse, Cults, Child Marriage, Pregnancy, Miscarriage

Pairings: None

Next Chapter | Masterlist

Read on AO3

Oregon, 1988

“I shouldn’t be flirting with you,” Melisa says, taking another drink of whiskey. It burns, and she knows it’s supposed to. It still feels like punishment. 

John Winchester sits across from her, studying her. He’s a quiet man, she’s found, in the short time she’s known him, but she thinks there’s nothing that really gets past him. 

“And why’s that?” he asks, a smile toying at the corner of his mouth. “You got someone at home?”

An icy chill settles into her gut. “Define ‘home,’” she says. There’s nobody waiting for her in her apartment, but there’s a presence that follows her everywhere ever since she met him . The man that changed her life. Sometimes, in petty, ungrateful, cowardly moments, she wonders if it was really for the better. 

John looks away, pensive, and takes a swig of his own drink in lieu of a response. She wonders what home is to him. 

She takes him to her apartment anyway. Maybe she shouldn’t--despite the fact that he saved her life, he’s still a stranger, and a sketchy one at that. Maybe it’s that risk that makes him appealing to her. Maybe that’s what it all comes down to. 

She keeps looking at her Gibborim Bible on her side table, like she’s asking it for forgiveness. John follows her gaze. He doesn’t ask about it. She supposes he’s seen too many crazy things to call anyone’s religion crazy. 

“I can’t stay the night,” John says as he starts getting dressed. “Sorry.” He sounds genuine, if cavalier. 

“Do you believe in faith healers?” Melisa asks him instead, apropos of nothing, and he gives her that scrutinizing look again, the one that seems to pierce right through her. 

“I’ve never seen one that was legit,” he says finally, with a shrug. 

“And you’ve seen a lot of crazy things,” she clarifies. 

He smiles bitterly. “Something like that, yeah.”

He looks at her again, a little softer this time, and she thinks he’s about to ask if she’s okay--she’s already bristling, ready to lash out at the question--

He shakes his head and looks down, pulling out a small notebook and scribbling something down. 

“This is my phone number,” he says, tearing the page out and setting it on her side table. She could swear there’s something...pointed, about the way he sets it on her bible. “In case there’s any more dybbuk trouble.”

Melisa nods a little. It’s unlikely. She’s probably never seeing him again, she realizes. There’s something bittersweet in that. It’s better that way. 

“Thanks for saving my life,” she tells him. 

He smiles. “You already told me that.”

“It’s worth repeating.” She smiles a little. “Goodbye, John.”

John has only been gone for a minute or so when he calls. And it’s one of those things that keeps her coming back, one of those things that doesn’t make sense unless he is what he says he is: he always knows when to call. He always knows when something’s happened, when she needs guidance. 

“David,” she says when she picks up. Thank God.  

“Melisa,” David says in that calm, velvet voice. “How are you?”

“I’m--” she almost says ‘good,’ reflexively, but she promised him she would never keep secrets from him. It’s liberating, in a way. 

She can’t find the words, so she sighs. 

“I sensed turmoil in your spirit,” David says, after giving her a moment to speak. “That’s why I called. Are you alright?”

“I--” she hesitates for a long moment. All of her guilt, all of her fear, it hits her all at once, and she feels like she could drown in it. Finally, she admits, “I need help.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” David replies. “We’ll pray together, you and me. It’ll be alright.”

And there’s something in his voice that makes her believe him, more than she’s ever believed in anything. 

2002

It’s early in the afternoon when Jim Murphy gets the call. 

Sam is in the kitchen doing homework. Jim had told him to ask if he needed help, but Sam doesn’t seem to need it. He’s a smart kid. Jim wonders, idly, what he could do in a family that stayed in one place for longer than three months at a time. 

“Jim Murphy.”

There’s a long pause on the other end of the line. 

“Hello?”

“Um. I’m looking for John Winchester?” The voice on the other end is young, female, and sounds scared. Quiet, like she’s trying not to be overheard somehow. 

Jim knows that John used to give out his number as his own, back before cell phones were ubiquitous, but he hasn’t gotten a call for him in nearly a decade. “How’d you get this number, kiddo?”

“It was in my mom’s stuff. Her name was Melissa Smith. I--I think I’m his daughter.” Her voice breaks as the words tumblr out, quickly, like she’s running out of time. “And I need his help.”

“How old are you?” He reaches for a pad of paper and a pen on the counter. 

“Thirteen.”

“What’s your address?”

“I don’t--I don’t know what that means. Please can I just talk to John? I need help.”

How does a thirteen year old not know their address? “Where do you live? I’ll send him.”

“Woodscross.”

“Where is that?”

“In Oregon.” She pronounces Oregon strangely, like Oree-gone . He files away that detail for later. “Please help me. I think he’s trying to kill me.”

Jim Murphy is good in a crisis--it’s kind of his job--but the words do surprise him. He tries to keep his voice calm, for her sake. 

“Whoa, slow down. Who’s trying to kill you?”

There’s another long pause, and then: “I have to go. I think they found me.”

“No, wait, what’s your n--”

Click.

[wyrmalien]

House vs House. Who wins

THIS IS SO HARD YOU CANT DO THIS TO MEEEEE

In the barebones. House wins. because the original House (and all subsequent adaptations) don't actually go beyond "fucked up ceiling", in fact most don't even go beyond "this corner has 3 angles. creepy!" House is established as an IMMENSE superstructure that will drive you mad from the dark and the space and the impossible-ness of it alone. There is no Keziah Mason or ultimate sacrifice, there is just the house. And as HoL says, "God's a house. Which is not to say that our house is God's house or even a house of God. What I mean to say is that our house is God." Also HoL is written infinitely better than any existing witch House adaptations that's just a fact as much as I desire to change that

In my heart, of course, the House is sooooooo much more fucked up. my mind still battles between "impossible rooms that span for miles and contain other rooms" and "this House is made of meat and bleeds and if you press your hand to the wall its warm and you can hear it breathing". Is the House Azathoth or Nyarlathotep to me? yes and no. my relationship with it is complicated. I need each of my ideas to be made into a cabinet of curiosities-esque miniseries but of different, valid witch House interpretations. u understand. in my heart I favour the House because I have insane autism about this shitty little story. I also personally enjoy the characters that inhabit the House more than the characters who inhabit and are involved with the house.

Now if we're pitting two bad bitches against each other in a fight I have no idea which house would win against the other. The house is dark, endless, and there is a physical darkness that injures Johnny at one point that could be the house or something that resides in the house. this house hates you. The House is also endless, but only around May Eve to me. The House grows and gets Worse as Walter gets Worse; it's angles sag and twist as Walter grows more fatigued, and the wood fades as his hair loses its colour from the stress. The House and Walter (and to an extent all its inhabitants) are intertwined on a metaphorical level. The House also acts as an intersection between reality and the higher dimensions, by its very nature it si a gateway and a place where the veil is so thin Walter can be heard through the walls. Both are very old, the house has hallways made of stone that is as old as the Appalachian mountains and the House contains dimensions that lead to the homes of the forgotten Elder Things. Both are fucked up. Both, it could be argued, are Gods. I think if you put them in a ring to fight it out they would have fucked up house sex.

The house fucking hates you but I'm not sure about the House yet. it hates you. it loves you. it's an animal. uncertain. if we're being funny it Despises Elwood and enjoys mildly inconveniencing Walter. God dammit I wish the cabinet witch House had done so much more with it

Mythos friends mutals and strangers please share your fucked up house thoughts, ideas, headcanons, etc in the reblogs or replies I love architectural horror and I love seeing lots of takes on it :)

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery

Idea from this song: Animals by Nickleback

Warnings: Blowjobs, blowjobs while driving, car crash, swearing

Elwood flexed his hand against the steering wheel as the other sat on the inside of my thigh. I leaned my head against his shoulder, watching him as he paid attention to the road. At a red light, Elwood would squeeze my leg and I would kiss his neck. A faint blush took over his features as I sucked a mark under his ear. The collar of his shirt wouldn't cover it and Jake would surely poke fun at him the next day but Elwood didn't mind.

"Come on (Y/N)." Elwood said, leaning away from me slightly as the light changed. "I just got my license back." I giggled as I laid my head on his shoulder again. I watched his eyes subtly move under the sunglasses he wore. "I can't lose it again."

"Sure." I laughed. "Mr. Lead Foot." Elwood gently pinched my thigh and I yelped. "Rude!" I laughed. Elwood smiled as we got on the highway. "So you gonna tell me where we're going?"

"Nope." Elwood scrunched up his nose as I playfully pinched his side. The sound of the engine revving made me smile against his neck as we picked up speed.

"I have an idea." I whispered in his ear, already reaching for his belt buckle. Elwood flushed as I gently squeezed his crotch. "What do you think?" I bit my lip as Elwood looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "Want to have a little fun?"

"Fun?" Elwood breathed out, already affected by how I was palming him through his dress pants. "It's kind of reckless (Y/N)." His voice broke into a moan and I smirked.

"But..." I prompted. Elwood breathed heavily as I undid his belt and slipped my hand into his pants.

"Fuck. Don't make me crash." Elwood finally said as my fingers wrapped around his length. I squealed happily and went to work getting him fully hard. Elwood bucked into my hand a couple times before I pulled away. He whined as I pulled his pants down, making him lift his hips so I could properly get his dick out. "And I do not want to get caught." I nodded before scooting back on the bench seat. Elwood slowly down some as I leaned over and laid out on the seat with my head in his lap. Once I licked his dick, Elwood sped up again.

"Keep an eye on the speed limit Motorhead." I teased before taking his dick into my mouth. Elwood moaned, the engine revving as he hit the gas. I bobbed my head a bit, never letting him out of my mouth and sucking as I got close to the head. I licked along the shaft as I went, earning a few whimpers.

"Oh shit." Elwood breathed out as I pulled off, licking his head. I was vaguely aware of the car picking up speed and Elwood changing lanes to avoid crashing into other cars. "Fuck. Just like that." I peeked up at him and chuckled as I noticed he was gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were turning white. He must have felt it because the car jerked and his breath hitched.

"Feel good huh El?" I asked, licking a bead of precum off his tip. Elwood moaned, the sound low in car. He turned up the radio as a car passed by, the passenger looking at the Caddy strangely. He smirked weakly at me and I winked at him before taking him in my mouth again. Every so often, I would move back to lick off the precum what was freely flowing now. Elwood took one hand off the wheel and buried his fingers in my hair. He didn't push or pull me, just held on as I continued to suck on him. The sound of the engine was drowning him out and I knew he was fighting to keep his eyes open.

"Oh fucking shit!" He yelled as he orgasmed. Elwood curled around me and I nearly pulled back as I swallowed his cum down.

"Whaaa..." I jolted as the Caddie crashed. As everything came to a stand still, Elwood finally let me up and hurriedly tucked himself back into his pants before getting out of the car.

"Come on." He urged me, eyes wide behind his sunglasses. He kept glancing at the hood of the car where smoke was billowing. Elwood held his hand out to me and I took it, letting him tug me out of the driver's side door. "(Y/N), please." He pleaded as I paused behind the wheel, finally seeing the damage that had been done. The hood was crumpled and the front frame would be bent. I blinked at the smoke that was still coming from the engine. "Please." I snapped out of it at the sound of Elwood's voice. I got out of the car and he wrapped his arms around me.

"Oh shit." I mumbled, taking in the full extent of the damage. Elwood tilted me head towards his and kissed me deeply. "Elwood...I'm sorry." I said. He shook his head as his hands roamed over me.

"Are you..." His voice cracked and he took a deep breath before continuing. "Are you ok?" I nodded, reaching up to cup his cheek.

"Yeah." I confirmed. "Are you alright?" Elwood nodded, hugging me tightly and burying his head in my neck. I grabbed his hat as it fell off. "I really am sorry Elwood." I mumbled. "You said not to make you crash and..." He shook his head.

"It's fine." He assured me. "I just want to be sure you are ok." I nodded before looking at the car again. Red and blue lights made us look away from the car and Elwood's eyes went wide again. He reached into the car carefully and grabbed his driver's license from the visor. He noticed the keys on the floor and grabbed those too. "Hi officer." He said, handing over his license right away. I held his other hand as the officer looked over his license and the car.

"Drinking tonight?" The officer asked. Elwood shook his head.

"No sir." Elwood said. The officer nodded and looked at the car again.

"You sure?" Elwood and I nodded. "Then what made you crash like that son?" Elwood stiffened and I watched the blush creep up his face. I bit my lip to stop from laughing, knowing exactly what had caused him to crash. Elwood looked at me, face bright red under the lamppost.

"Just uh lost control of the car sir." Elwood said, turning back to the officer. "Something didn't feel right but I just thought it was time for a tune up. Lost control once we got on the highway." I squeezed Elwood's side and he subtly pinched my waist. The officer looked between the two of us with a smirk.

"Alright. Well a tow truck should be along soon." The officer said. Elwood nodded. He leaned against the trunk of the car as the officer drove off. He took off his sunglasses and ran a hand down his face.

"Fucking shit." He muttered. "I can't afford to fix this." Elwood looked over the damage again before shaking his head.

"What are you going to do?" I asked. Elwood sighed and shook his head, focusing on his shoes. "I have some money. I'll..."

"No." Elwood said, looking up at me. His mismatched eyes were hard and I gulped. "I know you think this is your fault but its not. Its mine. I should have kept control of the car. You had nothing to do with this." I laughed and rolled my eyes.

"I had a small part to do with this." I said, leaning against the car next to Elwood. I handed him his hat back and he put it on. "So what now?"

"Have them take it to the junk yard." Elwood said as the tow started to pull up. "Whatever I get for it I get for it." I nodded and took his outstretched hand. "Come on." He gently tugged me over as the driver started hooking up the Caddie which had stopped smoking by now. "Let's go home and deal with the next part tomorrow." He kissed my cheek before helping me into the tow truck.