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inknopewetrust · 11 hours

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Are you still writing a rust fiction can you give us a spoiler

bestie anon, am i? AM I? yes of course it just takes me 8,000 years to publish anything. but i'll give a little sneaky peak of the opening "frames" of the fic. it's called 'a house in nebraska' after the ethel cain masterpiece.

In the reward of death, you often wondered if those women had ever found peace. Were their horrors laid to bed or their sadness lifted from their shoulders heavy with burden?

Fixed vacant on the ceiling in the darkness of your bedroom in a house littered with holes and creaky staircases, you saw them when you closed your eyes.

Mistakes of unremarkable grief and insurmountable spite, the faces of memories that had become ghosts sprung to life with a rejuvenated mission to find answers.

Carcosa called home in the eclipse.

And away in another world, a camera blinked red to hear a tale come alive.

The smoke from the cigarette twisted in the air; trailing along the chemtrails of the small, musty room with wooden panels and leaky wallpaper.

Blink, blink, blink.

“We talk plenty ‘bout Marty, but you two ain’t the only ones that worked this case,” Detective Maynard Gilbough pulled a newspaper clipping from a file that had been scattered about before them. “Tell us ‘bout her. She ain't live in these parts anymore and the folks up in Gering give us an inch for every mile we take... So y’all will be fillin’ in those gaps for us.”

The detective tossed the yellowing paper across the table.

It was faded along the edges. A worn, bleeding ink recalled the stories of old that replayed on the film reel within his mind whenever he let his thoughts wander just far enough. The picture was in black and white—a fragmented, distant past that lied with a stoutness that lingered in the fruitless victory in Vermilion Parish near twenty years prior.

The cigarette was bitingly bitter against his tongue. Its fumes littered his sights of you.

And for the first time since he sat down for the interview, Rust Cohle pondered his words before they tumbled out. He had been so calculated with the two detectives before him yet the flowery, sermon-esq verbiage that leaked like sieve from his mouth could not grasp the weight of the missing. Rust simply took the cigarette from his mouth and tapped its end along the side of the coffee mug.

And he paused.

The detectives had found a crack in the pavement.

#rust cohle x reader #rust cohle imagine #rustin cohle #rust cohle #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #true detective imagine #true detective season 1 #true detective #matthew mcconaughey #Rustin cohle x reader #rust cohle x fem!reader

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inknopewetrust · 1 day

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BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM [he’s a fictional character that doesn’t exist]

IM HAVING HIS BABY [no I’m not because he’s a fictional character]

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inknopewetrust · 2 days

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i can’t WAIT for the bear to come back

#we need to be FED #the bear #the bear fx #the bear Hulu #carmen berzatto #sydney adamu #carmy x sydney #forever ♥️#richie jerimovich #and maybe I’ll finally write my angsty Michael fic

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inknopewetrust · 4 days

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#tumblr #writers of tumblr #*singing* where did you all goooo #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #this is for fanfics specifically but hell #artists on tumblr #tumblr girls #writers on tumblr #fanfiction writer #fanfic writers

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inknopewetrust · 6 days

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Some people turn sad awfully young. No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer and, as I say, get sadder younger than anyone else in the world. I know, for I’m one of them.

Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine

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inknopewetrust · 7 days

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 [𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮] [𝒔𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒌]

summary: the colors of life change with time, but the music that narrates it lives on forever in one, standstill moment of the 1990s where success and passion came tumbling down. Years later, the story is declassified.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: minors dni (18+), this is based off of fleetwood mac/daisy jones and the six so imagine mid-80s and 90s rock scene, language, lil bit a spice, a whole lotta angst, enemies to lovers to enemies to…

In a world where words meant so much, it was difficult to find them at a time where they were needed.

The cool wire weaved against your skin. Its path crawling like a snake of retrospection from the bottom of your chair to your chest. There was a pebble of sweat threatening to spill from the top of your hairline in the hot California sun which made you think:

"Why the fuck did I ever move out of Indiana?"

But if you closed your eyes, you could recall why. A sickening, thunderous roar of the crowd–you could still hear it now. Somewhere, thumping in the back of your mind as their chants filled a space that breathed a new life within you as the another was dying.

An echo chamber of the taste of metal against lips; the white knuckle grip that still threatened to slip from your grasp.

The woman who sat across from you had a plastic smile on her lips. For her, it was nothing more than a job. An exploitive adventure where you'd be sticking headlines and messages across platforms for weeks to come because of this tell-all documentary.

"When did you know?"

Against cynicism the inevitable hardness of the culture you had immersed yourself in at one time had risen again and the attitude that rose promised a truthful reflection of your experience.

On the floor beside the mics battery pack, a half smoked carton of cigarettes met a glazed palm and the woman watched as a perfectly rolled stick land between two mauve lips. As the flame sparked, your eyes darted to hers.

"Know what?" you muttered between the smoke.

“When it was finally over?”

You could feel the breath being sucked out of your soul. The shudder radiating like a shutter letting rain inside of the home in the canyon; kissing the very center of a heartbeat that stopped at the sight of a pair of eyes, shoes peaking through a doorway.

The cigarette burned between your fingers. Ticking away like a bomb with scorching red embers fighting its casing.

“The Album was the best and worst thing to ever happen to any of us… that sounds ridiculous,” you scoffed, shaking your head and the woman quirked her head.

“It sounds ridiculous that something so magical, something so brilliant, can make those who built it feel small. It put us in a fishbowl and it took every last drop from our cup before it dried up and cracked under the heat… that's when I knew it was over."

She shifted in her seat, readjusting the papers to organize her thoughts. You imagined there was no sounder way of stating it. It was the truth, frank, and to the point but something the rest of them negated to realize or speak into words.

But she shook her head. “Yes, the band… but what of the relationships?”

“None of us had known about Steve and Nancy, Robin and Vickie had barely interacted until their writing began and by the end… well you can read plenty of articles about the end of it all.”

You drew from the cigarette again. Smoke filling the air around you like a mist; the woman kept digging.

“And Eddie and yourself?”

“Well…”

That heart-skipping beat never left. Laurel Canyon was so far away, the studio was a memory, and the stage was a phantom piece of your imagination yet the simple mention of a name so far removed was enough to make time stand still.

Somewhere, a young woman frozen and left wondering the "what if" of a life not shrouded by fanatics and the thrumming of a guitar. Somewhere, lost in the violence of a summer and the shattered glass of a heart left on a stoop, that girl remained inside.

“It was always complicated.”

“So,” she shrugged at you as if the conversation was nothing more than such. It wasn’t as though she was here to get all the details of every part of a life that had already played out in public if people had only been paying attention.

It wasn’t as though she was cracking open a mountain full of jeweled memories that had crystalized themselves in the past.

“When did it all go wrong?”

Feeling the sting of the camera focus on your face, there were two responses to this question that many had already answered before you:

"When did it all go wrong?" You lamented to yourself.

When did you know it was over? When did it all go wrong?

The woman's eyes glistened in excitement. Her story was unraveling before her. You took a drag again.

Fuck. You thought to yourself.

And the film began to play.

A/n: I'm excited to get back in the writing game - especially with Eddie. Let me know your early thoughts! Yay, nay, slay?

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x fem #eddie munson x female reader #reader x eddie munson #eddie munson x #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #x reader #fanfic #x female reader #joseph quinn #eddie x reader #eddie x you

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inknopewetrust · 11 days

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Stevie Nicks wrote a poem for “THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT”

#omg crying throwing up #taylor swift #stevie nicks #the tortured poets department #ttpd #taylorswift

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inknopewetrust · 11 days

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Thoughts on the Bridgerton season 3 trailer?It’s officially jumpstarted me back into my Bridgerton phase

I can’t wait!! I’m so excited to see Pen lead and then super anxious for who comes next!

I am a Benedict girlie through and through so I’m hoping he gets some flowers this season!!

#bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #Netflix #benedict bridgerton

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inknopewetrust · 11 days

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taylor i’m a teacher. i can’t stay up this late on a school night.

#taylor swift #ttpd #the tortured poets department #it’s also my b day so yay thanks girlie #taylor swift ttpd #im so excited but so so tired

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inknopewetrust · 11 days

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Happy Birthday !! ♥️

Thank you Red!! I just wanna say that everyday I look at my Rust fic and try to figure out how to capture him like you do 😂 you’re the best!! Literally!!

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inknopewetrust · 11 days

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happy birthday!

Thank you anon!!

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inknopewetrust · 12 days

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Happy birthday!!!!!!!!