#fairy spliff

[55555-555-5]

[jazmatazzzzzz]

I am excited to harvest these guys soon 💚🌱

[elementary-my-dear-daddy]

Captivated

Analogical (Virgil & Logan)

Warnings: Intoxicated sex, smoking, blood/violence mention, jerking off

Read it on AO3!

Summary: Punk!AU where Logan is absolutely fascinated by the lead of a local band at a house show.

The harsh ring of feedback coming from the shitty speakers set up in the backyard of the house show Logan was at seemed to make his skull buzz. Contrary to what Remus tells all of their friends, he was not dragged, lied to, or forced to be here. He liked the thrum of loud music and enraged lyrics spat towards him, it was a good place to decompress and let go of the rigid persona he typically presented. He could give up the polos and ties and neatly combed hair for a night in favor of a less maintained appearance, which felt rather freeing. Tonight he’d borrowed a pair of ragged crust pants from Remus and opted to wear a sleeveless tank that showed the slightest bit of his Oxytocin formula tattoo on his shoulder, and of course exchanged his dress shoes for sturdy boots just in case he’d end up near a mosh pit. Speaking of, Remus found him just as the next song started, waving him over to the gate into the yard so they could actually hear each other. He successfully managed to work his way through the crowd and noticed that Remus was pulling something out of his pockets.

“What’s that?” Logan asked loudly, trying to be heard over the loud screaming of the song.

“I scored a few spliffs!” Remus yelled back, pulling out two of the mentioned items as well as a lighter, “Want one?”

Logan nodded, waiting for him to light his own before taking one for himself. He let the end rest in his mouth while he clicked the lighter a few times to produce a flame. He didn’t see the harm in occasional vices like these, so long as they remained occasional, and if they helped him let loose, well that’s just an added bonus. He exhaled the first hit slowly, just like the other taught him to do when they were skipping classes together in high school. 

“These aren’t laced, right?” He thought to question.

“Probably not.” Remus shrugged, “I got ‘em out of a nightstand, so unless whoever lives here wanted to poison themselves I don’t think so!” 

Logan rolled his eyes, taking another drag. Of course Remus stole them, “Let’s hope we don’t get caught then.”

“Have I ever gotten caught?”

“Don’t you remember junior year when we-”

“Have I ever faced consequences?” He shot with a grin.

Logan frowned, “Unfortunately, no.”

“Fuck you too, stiff.” Remus blew a cloud of smoke in his face with a laugh.

When the taste and smell of burning filter hit them they flicked their spliffs to the ground, taking care to stomp both of them out (If Remus was going to cause a fire, it would be intentional). There’d been a lull in sound as a new band started to set up after the last. It wasn’t much of a stage, just a few amps, a drum kit, and a platform of old wooden pallets and scrap that raised the performers up slightly. Logan leaned against the cinderblock walls of the yard separating it from the neighbors who so graciously put up with what went on here and watched over the crowd. Small groups chatted, drank, smoked and what could only be described as dicked around the venue. He took it in, smirking to himself as he thought about how just a few years ago he’d be appalled at such deviant behavior. Now, he happily participated in it all.

His attention gravitated towards the new band, notably the man at the front fussing over what looked like a bass. Heavily decorated with tattoos, piercings, and a magenta dyed mess of hair, he seemed so… compelling to Logan. He slung his instrument over himself and wandered up to the microphone set up at the front.

“Hey, shut up we’re gonna start.” He spoke, setting off the feedback on the mic again. The crowd hushed and began to gather towards the stage. The man spoke again, “We’re Fairy Certain by the way and we write songs about gay sex.”

There were four clicks of drumsticks counting the band in before noise assaulted the crowd. A fast driving beat drew people to the front, with a few people starting to headbang and form the beginnings of a pit. There were a few bars of instrumentals, before the man at the front leaned into the mic again.

“We aren’t a crime… Not on my time…”

Logan paced over to the edge of the crowd, gazing up at the stranger with a hazy expression. Lithe fingers plucked over the stings of his instrument quickly as he yelled into the microphone, captivating Logan.

“I’ll be your man…that way you can…”

His mind could have been addled by smoking, or from the rush of adrenaline the music gave him, but the singer seemed to glow up on the stage. He wondered if it was just a trick of light from the porch lamps reflecting in the second hand smoke from various sources or if it was actually radiating from the man.

“Be my boy, let’s destroy the fucking world “

Over the course of the performance, Logan got closer to the stage. He moved with the crowd, shuffling along as the tempo of each song changed. There were a few times he landed at the edge of the pit and absentmindedly pushed its participants back towards the violent center. It was one of those times when the crowd was fully ramped up that he felt a rough shove at his back, launching him forwards into the action. He was caught up in the chaos and tried to get his head on straight to escape it. He dug his shoes into the ground and shoved the nearest body, only to feel himself get slammed by another in his side. When he turned, an elbow collided with his face. In a few seconds, he was completely disoriented and knocked over onto the dusty ground. He had enough sense in him to cover his head and curl up, waiting for the pit to dissipate or for someone to pick him up. Luckily, it was only a few moments before someone was grabbing onto his arm and yanking him back to his feet.

After getting his bearings and dusting himself off, he noticed the music stopped and everyone in the immediate vicinity was staring at him. The person who grabbed him still had a hand on his shoulder. He turned to look and was met with the same man who had been performing this set. Now that he could see his face a little more clearly, he saw the touch of black eyeshadow beneath his brown eyes. He looked at Logan with a worried expression, checking for any distress in his face.

“Hey. You ok?”

Logan opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out. He nodded instead.

“Your lip is bleeding.” The stranger pointed out, “Hold on wait here.”

He watched as the other hopped back up on stage and leaned into the mic again.

“Learn your fucking show etiquette assholes, you’re supposed to pick up someone if they fall! That was our last song anyway. Whatever.” He stepped off the stage and returned to Logan, who was more or less at the peak of his trip and was unable to do much besides stare. The man grabbed his hand again and led him back into the house.

Logan was taken past a long line of people to the house’s bathroom, the two of them cutting off the next person in line for it.

“Hey what the fuck?”

“I’m just getting the first aid kit, gimme a sec.” 

Logan waited in the doorway, watching him dig around under the sink until he retrieved what he was looking for. The stranger once again grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the back of the house, grabbing keys from the chain on his belt and unlocking one of the bedrooms. He was sat down on the bed, waiting as the other opened the kit up and found some things from it.

“I’m Logan.” He managed to say. 

“Virgil.” The other responded. He took Logan’s chin in his hand as he analyzed the injury, “Don’t think you’ll need stitches but this looks pretty nasty. You took a few decent hits out there, huh?”

Logan stared at him with wide eyes, blushing, “Is it that obvious I was smoking?”

Virgil looked at him, confused at first, and then with an expression of realization, then a soft smile, “I meant in the pit, but now that you mention it your eyes seem kind of dilated.”

“Oh.”

“Just hold still for me, Logan.” He said, taking a wipe to the cut. Logan winced and would’ve pulled away if not for Virgil’s hand holding him in place. Soon enough the blood and dirt were wiped away and some salve was applied to help it heal. It helped bring him back to earth for now, his high finally dying down enough for him to feel the pain of the injury and the awkwardness of the situation.

“Sorry, I should have been more careful out there.”

“No, not your fault. Some asshole pushed you in, I saw him.”

“He didn’t happen to have no shirt and a mustache, did he?”

“He did.”

“Remus. A friend.”

“An asshole friend.”

“That defines him very well actually.” Logan said, earning a chuckle from Virgil, “Sorry to make you end your set. I liked it a lot.”

“Thanks, but don’t worry about it.” Virgil shrugged, “Rude people don’t get to hear my awesome gay sex music anyway.”

Logan smiled, “Why do you write about it?”

“Dunno. I’m gay. I have sex. I like to yell about it.” He closed the lid on the first aid kit and set it off to the side, turning back to Logan, “Why do you go to these types of shows?”

“They let me relax, as hard as that might be to believe.” Logan answered, “Plus it isn’t a bad way to meet people.”

“True.”

They both sat there on the bed for a moment. Loud music from the next set of musicians started, slightly muted by the walls of the house, filling the brief silence between them.

“I bet you meet a lot of people at these shows.”

“Sometimes.” Virgil responded, “Everyone wants a singer but no one wants a bassist. They cancel each other out.”

“Surely that’s not accurate.”

“It’s true, and yet we’re the best with our fingers.” He joked, holding up two fingers and mimicked the action of plucking a bass, “You trying to say something?”

Logan rubbed his arm nervously, “Oh, I didn’t mean like- well… you are attractive but I meant, sorry.”

Virgil laughed at the other fumbling over his words, “It’s okay, it’s cute.”

“What is?” He asked, still a little dazed.

“You are.”

“Oh…” Logan turned red. It was hard to see in the unlit bedroom, but still noticeable, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Virgil replied, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but do you wanna stay for more than just the music?”

It took Logan a few seconds to process what Virgil meant, but when he got it he looked back at the other man and nodded quickly.

Virgil acted quickly, going to straddle Logan’s hip and capture his lips in a kiss. He was careful to avoid hurting him further, but he couldn’t help but intensify the kiss when the faint taste of blood entered his mouth. Logan was overwhelmed just by a simple kiss. The other’s tongue piercing ran under the roof of his own mouth, while the twin hoops from his spider bites pressed into the flesh of his lips. He tried to match the force that Virgil gave, but found himself content just being the recipient of the affection, only making a lazy attempt to lick into the other’s mouth occasionally.

After a few minutes of this, Virgil pulled away, taking in the sight of a lust drunk Logan. He pushed him to the bed lightly before going at it again, this time letting a hand roam underneath the thin fabric of Logan’s shirt. The feeling of Virgil’s hands exploring his skin excited him and he arched into the touch as soon as his hand ghosted over his pecs. A soft moan left his mouth, causing Virgil to smile against his.

“You like that baby?”

“Mhm.” He responded.

“You want more than this?”

Logan gasped as Virgil ran his thumb over his nipple, “Please, yeah.”

“Let’s get these out of the way then.” Virgil said, playing with the hem of Logan’s shirt and pants.

They both quickly scrambled out of their clothes, flinging them out of the way as they pressed quick kisses and gentle touches to each other's newly exposed skin. When they stripped down to just boxers, Virgil urged Logan to lay down on the bed once again. He rubbed at the other’s thighs as he hovered over him, quickly noticing the small wet patch forming at the top of the tent in Logan’s underwear.

“Fuck, so hard already? That’s fucking adorable.”

“Virgil…” Logan whined.

“I know babe, I know.” He reached to pull his own length out of his boxers, spitting on his hand and slicking himself up, letting a quiet moan leave his lips as he did. Once he worked himself up he took out Logan’s cock, leaning forward until he held them both in his hand. He stroked them together, listening past the loud music coming from outside to hear all of Logan’s noises.

Logan bucked his hips up into Virgil’s hand, looking at how handsome he looked above him. Tattoos covering his chest, arms, and sides, all glistening with the effort of performing both before and now. His expression, lips slightly parted, brow furrowed, messy hair sticking to his forehead, and eyes squeezed shut in focus as he jerked them together, it was so incredibly hot. He let out a groan as the other twisted his wrist just right so his palm ran over the head of his dick. 

Virgil opened his eyes to see Logan writhing in pleasure beneath him, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him. He moved his hand over their lengths faster, gripping them harder than before.

“Fuckkkk Logan, feels good.”

“Uh-huh, faster!”

“You want more? Huh?”

“Yes!”

Virgil increased his pace and leaned forward to kiss him again, not being as gentle as before and biting Logan’s lip between his teeth as they got off. They both thrusted into his grip, moaning into each other’s mouth. It was when Virgil ran his tongue piercing over the fresh cut on his lip that Logan felt that familiar heat curling in his veins.

“ ‘m close!”

“Me too, shit-” Virgil cried as he stroked them as fast as he could. He captured Logan’s mouth in another long-lasting kiss, the other whining constantly as his orgasm built.

With a final couple touches from Virgil, they both toppled over the edge together. They spilled over each other’s cocks and stomachs, panting from the quick fuck. Once they rode out the pleasure, they collapsed beside each other on the bed.

VIrgil was the first one to break the silence of the afterglow, “How’re you doing, Lo?”

“That was really good.” Logan breathed, turning his head to rest against the other boy’s shoulder.

“Good, good.” Virgil sighed and reached for his shirt, cleaning the come off of the both of them. Logan watched and grimaced.

“You’re not going to wear that out, are you?”

“No, I’ll just toss it in the laundry tonight.” He replied, throwing it off to a corner of the room.

“Wait.” Logan finally put the two dots together, “You live here?”

Virgil nodded, “Yeah. I wouldn’t be as much of an ass about everything tonight if it wasn’t my place.”

Logan thought for a moment, “Was your door unlocked when you came in here?”

Virgil looked at him with curiosity, “Uh, yeah, I thought I locked it but I guess I didn’t. Which is weird because I normally check a bunch of times to make sure it’s really-”

“Check your drawers.”

Virgil leaned over to check the bedside dresser drawer where he kept all his smoking stuff that he usually used to relax before bed and, lo and behold, a few joints and spliffs he rolled before were missing.

“How did you-”

“I’ll make Remus pay you back.”

[ezra-ezbezzlement]

or just like post your past drawings

I got this in November when I started using tumblr but I’m only now gonna answer it<3333333 prepare to view 10 gorgeous images made my me from old sketchbooks and folders,Anyway here u r george

I am now going to give an explanation for each of these because it’s 2am and I’m bored :3

No. 1 These silly little guys had a bunch of lore that I created for them, sadly most of it has been lost and forgotten. Also there’s like a sexy chicken thing in the corner, don’t mind him

No. 2 This guy also had a lot of forgotten lore about him. He’s like a troll thing. I can remember affectionately calling it “The Clit Goblin”. I think @nova-the-killjoy was responsible for naming him

No. 3 A drawing I did of @butterfy-s0uls as an inky cap fairy sometime last year, idrk what’s going on with the face but it is what it is

No. 4 Umm this guy I think had a lot of inspiration drawn from the Celtic pagan figures Oak King and Holly King who ruled the forests

No. 5 This guy was a weird little inspired by some concept art for the 5e Coutl I found

No. 6 This was a drawing I did for @percymcwercy of a “Lunar Wobbergong”. I gave up on it cos the shading was weird and I would have changed the name from a “wobbergong” (cos that’s not a wobbergong that’s a great white) but it was done in B9. Anyway I think these sharks lived in the moons atmosphere or something

No. 7 this is a map for one of many dnd campaigns that flopped

No. 8 is a redrawn Coutl

No. 9 is the front page of a drawing comp @nebulaofbangtan and I did together. The prompts were about a world or kingdom we made up.

No. 10 is the back page of the drawing comp which I was pretty proud of, I think my sister also liked the idea of drying out a potion and making a spliff out of it to induce a quite literal high

There will be more old drawings btw

[maybelukejames]

Okay so boom, here is my summarized review without spoilers:

An animated movie: A young fairy meets a human and they work together to try and defeat the powers that be. Robin Williams and Tone Loc are in the cast and there’s music by Guy in the soundtrack. 10/10 would highly recommend

Ok ok how many spliffs are recommended to get thru it?

[seahorsegirl]

THINGS TO DO MORE OF IN 2024

spliffs

tripping, especially with my best friends

working (i need money)

making my own jewelry

embroidery

journalling/collaging

drinking wine

cleaning my room

fairy lights

glittery earrings

long black skirts

kissing my girlfriend

cooking

optimism

THINGS TO DO LESS OF

rotting

delta 8

carrying around garbage

ruminating in my own filth

assuming everyone hates me

instagram

yik yak

food from the dining hall

cigarettes

[craft-not-of-the-witch]

Old Habits Die Hard

Wispy pink and golden sun rays permeated the room she so desperately longed to leave. No one had ever made Jane stay; no one but herself, and that only made her disdain seep into her bones. Work had been the only thing keeping her out of this accursed flat but the weekend came in a wholly unwelcome flash. Why would she leave? To do what? Be miserable in a public place? Sounded like a grand time, but then again, Jane just wanted to be alone. 

She couldn’t even really stand to be with her cat for prolonged periods of time. Dana had almost become his cat toward the end, but now she couldn’t find him. Why did Dana have to miss him? Why did she have to walk around the flat, crying for him, just like Jane was?

With much labour, Jane crawled up to sit on the edge of her bed. The sheets were so new, they still smelt like the store from which they came. It was better than the alternative. The cold air of her room wrapped around her, clinging to her skin like a thin layer of glue. She frowned, picking up a half-empty box of spliffs on her side table. She lit the rolled tip on fire and dragged it, an even cherry forming. It was funny; it seemed like ever since he left, every single roll-up she smoked ran on her. 

She rose from the bed slowly, feeling things pop and crackle into place. The morning ache had been like no other lately, it followed her the entire day. God, everything was going perfectly wrong - it had to be divine punishment for something she had done in her past life.

The dust particles that floated in the air made way for the sweet girl as she padded her way to her kitchen. Dawn was still arriving and so it cast her small, blue kitchen in golden hues. Smoke dripped from her lips, blending and mixing with the air ahead of her. The flat had the distinct smell of lavender incense - Jane always said it smelt better in the mornings.

With weak muscles, still laced with sleep, Jane filled her bright red teapot with water from her tap before putting it on the oven to boil. She took two mugs from the cupboard and set them down gently, laying a tea bag in each one. As she waited for the water to boil, Jane sat on her counter top, eyes locked on the green cup and the orange cup, her lips set into a deep frown. The water bubbled and churned within its kettle, making a multitude of noises before finally whistling.

Filling both with the steaming, boiling water, Jane enjoyed the warmth hitting her face and the beginning smells of the tea steeping. Earl grey smelled better than it tasted to her, but it was the only tea in the house.

It was only when she had the milk in her hands that she realised her mistake. 

The morning sun filtered through their sheer kitchen curtains. It had taken the young couple over an hour in a drapery store to come to a decision, but they were both in love with their final choice. They both loved their flat, it was decorated right to their specifications; vibrant colours filled their space, plants stood on every flat surface, books and records were strewn about the living room. It was perfect.

The flat’s lavender smell had been replaced by a fresh tea brew later than usual that day. Jane, who usually had no issue leaving the bed, only wanted to lie around and cuddle with Roger. Of course, who was he to deny her any request? Especially after such a good night.

Jane added his milk first-just a drop-then followed it up with a full teaspoon of sugar. If it were up to him, Roger would add three teaspoons to every single tea he were to ever have, and Jane ardently believed that. She smiled to herself, just thinking about her man. She loved him so much, more than anyone had ever loved anyone.

Picking up both cups with extreme caution, the orange haired beauty made her way back to her favourite place on Earth; their bedroom. Posters lined the walls from the floor to ceiling and fairy lights, wrapped in tulle, were criss-crossed all about the ceiling. There was a guitar, as well as a bass, and a myriad of filled notebooks to accentuate the room. It was the perfect room to trip in, as they had just done last night.

The deep purple sheets were still warm when Jane rejoined Roger in bed after setting her tea on her side table. Dana was laying across his chest while Roger’s eyes wandered about the ceiling, probably still seeing a few fractales or at least the motion of the ocean. The grey cat purred loudly when Jane joined Roger in patting her, making Roger look at Jane. She handed him his cup and he smiled, sitting up slightly.

“How much sugar did you give me, Love?” He asked with a very toothy grin. Jane smiled and kissed his pillowy lips.

“Enough.”

Roger took a sip from his orange mug, then immediately screwed his face up in different directions. Jane laughed, shaking her head. “Darling, this is much too bitter. Are you sure you didn’t just make me a cup of leaves?”

“Every cup of tea is a cup of leaves, Rog,” she chuckled. Roger smiled, sipping his tea again. He threw his arm over the shoulders of the girl he loved and laid them both on their backs. 

Jane curled into Roger, taking in his scent of sweat and old cologne. She never liked man-smell - it was usually rancid. But not Roger; Roger always smelled like a million bucks to Jane. She would never complain. Only about his beard tickling her face, or his tendency to be a rough sleeper.

A few moments passed the content couple as they let them. Jane listened to Roger’s heart, grateful for every single beat, and watched Dana’s fur rise and fall with her small breaths. It was a perfect second. There were always perfect seconds.

Roger sipped his tea again, humming this time. “You, my love, are the best tea-maker in the world.”

She poured the contents of the orange mug down the drain.

*

When Roger returned from another tedious band practice, the only thing to dismally greet him was the dank cold of his small new place. His lips were set in a deep frown; there was nothing as anti-climactic as returning home. It was also the eighth night in a row that he declined going out with his bandmates - he didn’t want to continue breathing, let alone go out.

Once over the threshold, Roger made a bee-line for his fridge, retrieving his brandi from inside. It was one of his personal little defiances - Jane always made him take it out of the fridge. Like it was hers. No, she just loved controlling everything he did. Not anymore.

The day was over; it had been long since the sun lay to rest on the horizon and the 11 o’clock news was considerably closer than the 8 o’clock news. There was not one more thing to do with one more minute. It made a pain squeeze his heart - he wouldn’t trade words with anybody else until the very next day.

His drink didn’t have very strong notes of the apple it promised, only delivering Roger a raw throat. It didn’t take Roger very long to recognize how undeniably right Jane was about everything, but he would never ever utter those words. He would sooner take his own life.

Once the drink was finished, Roger went over to his stereo, bottle of awful brandi in hand. He popped on a Sly and the Family Stone record - jazz was seeming to cure him more and more each night. So, he sat down on the couch and listened to Stand in its entirety, even flipping it halfway through. He didn’t sing, he didn’t dance. Only listened and drank. Only listened to the music and maintained the buzz he had since the tip of noon.

Roger polished off his final drink during the final song, listening to the grey noise that came from his machine for a few moments before turning it all off. He noticed the time being nearly midnight and the ghost of sleep crept over him.

On his cue, Roger went to the bathroom. He ran his brush through his long, thick, curly brown hair, almost remembering when Jane would let him brush her hair. How soft her hair was, how it looked like spun silk. With a heaving sigh, the man put down his hairbrush. He picked up his toothbrush and put some white and blue paste on the bristles, leaving the tube uncapped, on the side of the sink.

Without thinking anything about it, Roger sat on the left side of his tub. The pink porcelain was freezing beneath his legs and the shower curtain rested against his shoulder. He tried his best to not think about Jane. He wouldn’t. They were over.

When he finally decided to spit the stinging, minty froth from his mouth, he caught the sight of a man he didn’t know in the mirror. His eyes were dark, his mouth was set into a hard, straight line, he seemed tired. That certainly couldn’t have been Roger. The stranger reminded him of the men back from war; full of regret, full of secrets.

Uncapping his mouthwash, Roger took a sip from the bottle before pouring a portion in his mouth. He swished it once, then twice, then hot tears began to form in his eyes.

“Honey, I’m home!” Roger announced, sweeping through the door with a shopping bag and a takeaway container. The sounds of the latest album by The Kinks were resounding throughout the small place. The flat was cast in dim, orange lamplight, and Roger could smell Jane’s favourite lavender incense burning. He smiled, kicking off his shoes.

Roger made his way to the living room, only to be met with the sight of Jane and Dana curled up on their couch together. He cooed for a moment, which woke up Dana, inciting Jane, herself, to finally be stirred. She looked up confused for a moment then smiled broadly when she saw her lovely boyfriend. 

“Hello, Darling,” he whispered, leaning over the couch and placing a kiss against her forehead. Jane smiled.

“How was practice?”

“Awful.” Roger made his way to sit next to the formerly sleeping girls. They made way for him as he began pulling a box of cigarettes from his coat pocket. “I’m much better now that I’ve seen your pretty face.”

“Oh rah rah, Rog,” Jane drawled, smiling broadly. He pulled out a cigarette for both of them, then lit them both with his orange lighter. With a heavy breath, Jane stretched out and sighed. “Ready for bed?”

“Have been since we left the bed.”

The two shared a laugh before getting off the couch. They made their way to their shared bedroom where they continued to smoke and chat about the last few hours. They put on their pyjamas and Jane took a makeup wipe to her face. When their cigarettes were ashed, they went to the bathroom.

Roger wet his toothbrush and put some paste on it then promptly handed Jane the tube. She kissed his cheek and put some paste on her brush. As soon as they began to brush, they assumed their positions on the edge of their tub. They giggled and teetered toward each other, brushing and bumping shoulders. 

Finally, they went to rinse and spit before Roger picked up their mouthwash. He took a bit before pouring a bit in the cap, giving it to Jane. Together, the couple swished the mouthwash around in their mouths, making extremely stupid faces in the mirror at each other. 

Once they spat out the mouthwash, Roger and Jane made their way to their bed to resolve to kiss and cuddle until they drifted off to the sweet land of sleep.

Roger poured the cap’s contents back into the main bottle, screwed on the lid and went to sleep.

[literarysys]

The Bear, the Bar, and the Youth

I tripped down a trail laced with loose gravel and boulders. Trees surrounded the path, lighting it with bright greens and brown branches. He said it would be here, I thought to myself, getting angrier and more terrified the longer I didn’t see it.

 Rounding a bend near a small trickling of water, there it was. Finally. Perched on a large flat stone near the stream’s edge under a great tree. It was staring at me. Large blue eyes and a “hug me” grin on its face. I wobbled over rocks and tree roots until I could grab it. Tucking the stuffed bear under my arm I picked my way further into the trees in case some rando came along to see me. I didn’t need any company. Not today. Not now.

 Out of plain view I crouched. In one hand I set the bear on the ground, pinning it down as I flipped the blade of my pocketknife out with my teeth. Quickly, I cut into the fabric. Fluff puffed out as the incision became bigger, like white little wood ghosts. Evidence of my destruction, and once the hole was big enough, I searched inside, pulling apart clods of cotton, feeling the looseness of the fabric over my fingers. The body was empty. That little rat! I could feel the anger and frustration starting to come up, but quickly calmed them. 

In one fast rip, I cut the fabric of the bear’s head. Stuffing popping out like fluffy brains, and I dug. Nothing, nothing- yes! My fingers felt the smooth cold texture of a plastic sandwich bag, and like a skilled surgeon, I edged it out through the caraccas. Shoving it in my coat pocket without looking, I cleaned up the mutilated parts, carrying them with me as I exited the trees. That’s about the last thing I clearly remember before waking up the next morning stark naked. Blood covering my hands and smearing down my chest in dried orange streaks.

I can’t tell you what happened, but I can tell you about the shadows, the faces, and the bits I’ve managed to gather since. It was a Friday. Around late evening in spring when I had picked up the drop. From there I can expect with near certainty it started like any other Friday. With a fat bowl. Pre-ing the pregame while I picked out some party clothes, and took a shower. 

I like to drink when I take showers. I like to drink a whole beer, maybe two, or take a couple shots. I like to let the hot water and steam open up my veins and make my blood surge. The alcohol reaches my head faster, and I can get lost under a warm waterfall for a bit. I would have gotten dressed. I would have checked my face. Maybe put on some eyeliner, made sure my hair was nice. Then more shots. More spliffs. People. I remember music. The low vibrations of bass humming through my insides, ears ringing in the aftershock. I remember this a little. 

I remember having a stupid grin on my face while I sipped tequila and cranberry juice between an open can of beer under fairy lights. Outside and inside, inside and outside. Looking for a lighter, looking for my smokes. I remember I found my smokes. Lost the lighter. I remember the images of tall boys, eyes red and watery as they laughed and took drags from something I held between my two outstretched fingers. Then it goes blank again in one descending spin. I remember the feeling of velocity. Like some strange dream. I was dancing. Jumping. Couldn’t keep my balance. Pee. I had to pee. I couldn’t stand up. I have a vague impression of people helping me as I stumbled listlessly into a stall. I remember dropping to my knees as a guttural heave rocked my body. Heave after heave until I rested bleary eyed on an arm draped over porcelain. I remember feeling like shit, and in a dizzy floating state, watching my fingers fumble with my jacket pocket. Fumble with heavy imprecise movements as I opened the clear plastic of the sandwich bag. I took a long time, carefully swaying with drunken cautiousness, and doled out one dose. Still sitting knock kneed in front of a toilet, I put it on my tongue and swallowed. Got up. Then, to the best of my ability, washed with cold water and paper towels, swinging the bathroom door open into dark madness. I was pleased.  

Hours turned into minutes and in one quick motion we were scattered in the dark street, shivering. Silence and wind blaring in the exposed night. The clip clop shuffle of my shoes ricocheting in the echo. I had my arm around the waist of a girl who pushed me into the walls of buildings to lick my face. My mind was all pulsating colors and stars, and I remember laughing as we stopped with one of our straggling cohorts. He offered us sips of whisky from his hip flask. We stood in a circle, swaying and leaning on each other through the dizzy spells. I slept on my feet. As my eyes closed outside in the world of night and concrete, they opened dazed, in the white lights of a kitchen. By the feeling of my face I had been staring at walls and air, talking to no one for some time. Someone handed me a tight roll of paper. I got up clumsily, bent over the counter and sniffed. I could feel someone’s hands resting on my back. Resting long, and low. I slid out from their reach with the excuse of a drink. Sloshing some liquid into a cup I drank, ignoring the hands as I walked to a chair and sat down. A small mob of fucked up after-partiers danced in front of me like fairy people. Sweat matting their hair against their faces. Flying under purple black lights, they swam in slow motion. Conjuring intensely the movements of rhythm and sound, trancing me, as I slipped into neon shadows .....  

[publicprocessingbemethang-blog]

Panther!

So shit has gone down. Drama amongst the flaka whores. Fights, pettiness, money talk…

Folks feel like they do more than others and are alone at the end of the day… and I just can’t.

Cause I’m the one who truly do the most for the least amount of love.

Anyway Panther took us to the cafe spot, bought tea and cake and held me. Also rolled a spliff and saw my childhood home. Well had to sneak and tiptoe to the bathroom. Daddy almost caught us 😂

He really buttered me up and I needed that. I just wonder why k ain’t fall head over heels for him.

Like he holds me tights when I let go too soon in a hug. He a Capricorn. He expresses his love and desire to share space.

Is it because of who he just broke up with? Is it because he brown and like Black culture and that makes me distrusting? Is it because it is easy to see that he a spiritual fuck boy?

Is it because he actually shows me love and my fucked up rather be in relation to someone who rejects me?

Idk. Idk. Idk.

ALSO King got me all the way fucked up. Had a facilitated fight with him with Unc and me Alpha facilitating and translating.

King never hits me up, expresses desire for me siblings and admitted he was indifferent to my pain and can’t hear me out.

Unc said a Leo fairy and Scorpio demon always gonna have beef.

It’s just that King and I have the same moon. Very similar goals and desires. And since he Black and Native… I want to live out the 2.5 white picket fence fantasy.

I keep finding more flaws as to why the duck boys I desire dismiss me. Fat, ugly, smoked stained teeth, disability, crazy ass bipolar personality.

Sigh… maybe I’m keeping Panther far far away from my heart and mind because… heartbreak ain’t worth it. Plus we just cute sweet tender friends.

King don’t even watch my insta stories. I cried the night we connected at his with Panther and Unc. And I was write. King and I can’t cuddle or share Soave alone cause it’s giving the same vibes I have with me sibling.

Where the pain of being compatible but no sexual desire on their ends makes me feel like shit.

And everyone knows how pathetic I am.

At least I can keep my distance from the femmes in the whore group.

Could you imagine being loved out of pity and not really desired in a pussyxpussy relationship?

I’m still not over any of my past girlfriends 😭

A man dismissing and using you… EXPECTED.

But with a femme?! I’m killing myself.

Also too insecure to be with a shorty because I would just compare our bodies and cry.

Also though… still holding a grudge over what my summer ex said about us being the same… fat and black and all smiles. Just to use prettier women to make me jealous and confess they think skinny white people are the most desirable.

Sigh… I’m no better though.

ALSO! A Nigga need to focus on school and being a healer! Cause I got myself and community fucked up at the moment…

[lacenwine]

“earth, body, moon” - 5 part series 🕯

[55555-555-5]

🌀🌿🌀

[its-only-anxiety]

Get high baby roll one, cloud 9 bout to go up🌛

[notsosecret-slgarden]

Not So Secret - High Life

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[mossbeing]

magic nights keep me going..

[imagine-loki]

The Slutty Webs One Weaves

Title : The Slutty Webs one Weaves

Chapter NO. 8

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s Asgardian wife learns women write fanfiction about him on a trip to Midgard. She’s edgy for the duration and lets him have it when they get back.

Author: lokilover9

Rating: M

Pepper returned from the lobby to an edgy Tony. "Was Hannah down there? What took you so long to answer your phone?"

"No and I was talking to someone."

"You stalled to make new friends? I worried you were dragging said witch up here in a headlock."

"Wrong. Is Loki still consoling Brianna?"

"Yes."

Pepper dropped a mini bomb and Tony disconcertedly sighed. "He isn't going to like this." The couple appeared at the guest room door. "Hey, Little Warrior. Feeling any better?"

She nodded.

"Badass and I wondered if you'd stick around. Maybe Daddikins can conjure Mario Kart? I miss you kicking my tushy."

Virginia's nervous smile had Loki encouraging it and once Tony had Brianna distracted, they slipped out of sight. She conveyed returning to the Tea shop, claimed Hannah resembled an old friend and asked which direction she'd gone in. The cashier said she did a double take at something in the lobby, appeared as though seeing a ghost and dashed towards the hotel exit without her purchases.

Loki's face became a storm of tumultuous emotions and she startled when a snap of his fingers conjured a book.

"Should I have said nothing?"

He cynically chuckled, scanning the title pages. "Ever thought your God in heaven found amusement in bombarding your life with fuckery, like the Norn's do mine? The arm of his celestial robe hanging high while he mockingly inspires you with a goblet of mead? 'Rise up, Homes. I'm off for a shag with Mary.'"

"All Midgardians have."

"Have all dragged their only friends into Alice's fucking wonderland where the big bad wolf keeps hounding at the door? Excuse me, I'm intertwining fairy tales."

"Probably half. Are you okay?"

"Right as rain, girlfriend. Right, found it. I haven't used this spell on a child and need the right measurement of ingredients."

She nervously stumbled over a pair of small shoes. "A 'spell???'"

"To make Brianna sleep. Shhh. I must concentrate."

She watched, dazzled, as tiny bottles appeared mid air and part of their contents emptied into his cupped palm. Moving it in a circular motion, they combined like fluid sand, glowed a soft white, then faded into transparent flakes as the book and bottles vanished.

"Calmly return to the main room with me?"

They did just as Tony blundered a turn at Mario. "I'ma gonna givva you such a smacka, you cartoon pisano."

When Brianna laughed, Loki waved his hand before her face from behind. "Forgive me, Min Lille."

"D..dad…"

Tony caught her. "What's up with the magically induced coma?"

"She's better off." Said Loki, sharper than intended.

Stark situated Little Warrior while he paced, grinding a fist into his palm. There hadn't been time to process any definitive plans to apprehend Brianna's captors and discovering the fourth incited a rage only her reciprocated love had contained. Now, his nerves were stretched to their limits, forcing him to convey more than he wanted, risk finally reaching out for help and configure one. Fast.

"Scotch, Snowflake?"

He sighed heavily and stopped. "I must keep a clear head and so should you. The secrecy and lies, the hiding, everything I've done has been to protect Brianna and yourselves since the instant she graced my life. If I'm to continue, we need to trust each other completely. No matter how disturbing my information, you will make no inquiries, tell no one and from here forth, do 'exactly' as I say. Should you veer off course, we leave for real and you'll be fighting a dangerous battle alone. You may regardless if I can't contain Thor's rage over this."

"A battle with who?"

"This will hit home, Tony. Give me your word."

"It's yours, Pepper's too, right?" She nodded. "For insurance, she can text you a pic of me in a chastity belt. Hell, send it to Jimmy Kimmel. Are we good?"

"I'd rather you signed a wager to become a goat. How much longer is your suite booked for?"

"Another ten days."

"Virginia, pack for a week please? I need your help with Brianna at a safe house. Tony, contact your pilot. You're going home."

"Alex is in Aruba celebrating his girlfriend's breast implants. 'Why' Loki?"

"Fuck." He muttered. "Because I'm certain Fury's involved in Brianna's existence and you 'don't' want him up your shit when you aren't there. He was fucking Hannah and six and half years ago, introduced her and Jillian to Viriginia at his fiftieth birthday bash."

Tony slid both hands down his face. "I..shit..whoa. How do you know that and who's Jillian?"

Pepper frantically retraced her memory. "Jillian...was she the petite brunette with doe like eyes?"

"Congratulations." Loki replied. "You've also met Brianna's Mother. It's all in her diary."

"WHAT?!?" Said the couple, shocked.

"Save your questions! If Brianna's the reason Hannah bailed, by now the evil foursome knows she's escaped and you're aware she exists. Were I Fury, I'd be gathering my accomplices for interrogation, initiating a low key search for the four of us and putting eyes on the Tower 'and' Thor, where he'll find Astrid. Please, 'help me.'"

"Okay, okay. Can you teleport me back?" Asked Stark.

"No. Fury knows I have that ability. If S.H.I.E.L.D's watching and never see you enter…"

"What the fuck? You think they're involved too?"

"Oh my god." Said Pepper.

Loki tuned them out and conjured a bag of burner phones. "Book a seat on the next flight out in any class. Delete our past conversations and cease using your phones to contact me. If Brianna awakens, have her call me on one of these. I'll be back before dawn."

"You're leaving???"

"Yes. To relocate Astrid and warn Thor. Wish me luck he doesn't break New Mexico."

Loki vanished into a portal leaving the couple aghast.

"Well Butch, we're up to our eyeballs in another shit storm. I should've ignored the flu and gone with you that night."

She cracked a tiny smile. "Before or after you fell asleep next to the toilet?"

Tony nodded, observing Brianna in her slumber. "And dreamt Buzz Lightyear brought me our duvet."

"High fevers induce hallucinations. That was me in a white pants suit."

"You sure sounded like 'Tim The Toolman Taylor.'

He was doing it again. Comedically rambling off topic to cushion the blow of a truth that rubbed him wrong from every angle.

"Tony?" Said Pepper.

"Hm?"

"Promise no veering? I haven't trusted Nick since Steve found those weapons on the Helicarrier."

"None of us Avengers do either. I won't, he's too dangerous. With the ability to fuck us over worse than any accusations of harboring a missing child could. Virginia..this is bad. What more was in that diary?"

"It is, but we have to stay focused. A sleep deprived, frazzled Loki discovering we aren't ready, won't want to talk. I'll get our suitcases."

Tony followed. "Did you bring a warm coat? I'll bet he conjured that safehouse in the Siberian Tundra." ***** Loki first returned to their room to collect his and Brianna's things. Time was crucial, but before seeking Astrid, he needed to tune into her ring. Left on, it steadily recorded her and using a hologram, he rewound to the day he departed Asgard and quickly scanned through the mundane.

He watched her pained reaction to his note, heard hers and Frigga's spiteful words, witnessed their treatment of Thor, heard himself being defended, their following remorse and the lies conjured betwixt Mother and son. Although impressed by Frigga duplicating Astrid's ring, he wasn't in the mood for another presumed 'lecture on morality' and fast forwarded to them parting ways in Asgard.

Night after night, he saw Astrid entering Ingrid's bed chamber and once heard his Mother in law scolding a hidden Roddy from her doorway. "Doth's thou newest mistress prefer perfuming as well? Your stench giveth you away."

He'd have laughed if not for Astrid's tears, but when forwarding to the present, she wasn't sleeping at Thor's. His means of travel would remain portals and high on adrenaline, he arrived to gather her belongings and cringed at the sounds of lovemaking.

"That's it princess. Take your Kings tallywacker like a good girl."

'Norns.' Loki conjured more burner phones, blared the living room's television and Thor came running, cock at full mast. "Brilliant way to greet an intruder, dingus."

"Brother!" Thor exuberantly bellowed on approach.

Loki conjured a dagger. "Hug me naked and tallywacker gets beheaded. Where's Astrid?"

"At the Rosewood."

Loki frowned. "You let my wife, who hops realms on a fucking whim, stay at a hotel???"

Jane came rushing down the stairs in a Betty Boop robe and he arched a brow. "Hi, Loki. It's only for two nights and she offered to give us time alone."

Thor's smile faded. "I didn't hear anything in the guest bedroom. Did you bug our house?"

"Yes, brother. 'I', snagged a side job installing covert surveillance on Midgards superheroes. Spark another spliff and do cover your cock?"

Jane did with a decorative plate from the dining table. "Astrid's room number is 718."

"She won't be returning. Do not leave, answer the door, your calls, or open the blinds. I 'will be' returning, but briefly."

In a flash, he was gone and Jane looked up at Thor. "I can't call in this soon, my vacation just ended."

"Loki wasn't asking, Jane. Something's awry." ***** Astrid had risen early and after seeking ice, dropped the bucket upon discovering Loki in her room. Accustomed to wearing Midgardian attire, her blue jean leggings contoured her shape, highlighted by a white tank beneath a second of mesh knit. Her blond waves cascaded down her breasts and she looked so virginal without makeup, his loins ached.

"Hello, my lovely."

Unsure what Thor had conveyed, she hesitated approaching. "Hi. I would offer you a drink but..." She knelt to gather the cubes and hide a falling tear. "I hav..haven't any liquor."

Loki lovingly gathered her into his arms. "Astrid."

"Forgive me, Min kjærlighet." She sobbed. "I made you run when needing me most."

He kissed her lips and cheeks. "I ran for a multitude of reasons, but have left Brianna sleeping to come for you."

"You knew I was on Midgard?"

"Not until recently and you mustn't be angry with Thor for not conveying so. He stayed silent at my request, even to Jane and was oblivious to our location. You mean the world to me as does Brianna now too, but something's gone wrong and I fear you're both in danger. It would take too long to explain and there's so much I must before you meet."

"Then let's return to Asgard. Wouldn't we be safe there?"

"We can't yet."

She slowly slid from his embrace, confused. "Brianna's in danger, yet isn't with you or Thor. She's with Tony and Pepper isn't she?"

"Yes, my lovely, but you can't be angry with them either. They've been wonderful to her."

"I'm not, I'm sad again. Everyone knew about her before me. What does that say about 'us', Loki? Are we okay?"

He embraced her again. "Yes. Darling, Tony, Pepper and Thor knew of her before I did too and you knew before Jane."

"Really? Wait, Thor lied to myself and your Mother?"

"Astrid, please. He had to, they too might be in danger and Brianna will panic if I'm not there when she awakens. Come with me to a temporary location until everybody's situated?" Loki kissed her hands. "It means being shielded from Heimdall for a while. If not, Thor can..."

She hastily kissed him. "I'm not returning to Asgard without you."

Loki wanted to bed her until she wailed his name so loud, her voice cracked every window in the hotel. "Prepare thyself, my lovely. You're going underground."

While she checked out, Loki ventured to Alberta and created her a lesser version of their bedchambers in Asgard.

Astrid caressed the beds plush duvet of greens and gold. "You replicated everything."

He conjured her luggage. "I wanted you to feel at home."

She smiled. "I'll be okay, Loki. Go."

With a newfound determination, Loki returned to Thor. "I thank the Valhallas you've dressed."

"You've seen me naked before, brother."

Loki addressed Jane. "He was playing nude hide and seek in the backwoods with some maidens, late for another archery lesson. Our father sent me searching. Without appearing rude, may we please have a moment alone?"

She frowned at Thor. "I'll be in the garage inflating my bicycle tires."

Thor waited for the door to close. "You could've said we were teens. How have we been compromised?"

"Clever, brother."

"Are Brianna and Astrid safe?"

Loki nodded.

"Flying human and Virginia?"

"Not if Jane talks."

A loud growl from Thor soon had her running back inside. "Holy shit on a pogo stick!"

He was standing in the living room holding their heavy glass coffee table above his head with Loki in his face. "Throw that and it vanishes before landing."

"Then I'll break something else!"

"This is why I kept information from you! Think rationally, Thor. Your neighbors will post this all over social media. How will that benefit any of us?"

He gently placed it down. "Brother, he..a child?"

"I know, but please let me handle it my way?"

"She's your daughter. I respect that. What do you need from us?" Loki eyed Jane and Thor sighed. "Yes, you can trust her."

When he was done talking, she hurled on the carpet while Thor pondered murdering Fury.

Loki used magic to clean it up. "You have my instructions. No interfering."

"We understand, brother. Go." ***** After leaving the Savoy, Hannah had rushed to the nearest pharmacy and returned to her hotel, spitting sparks. "That lying bitch! Her little brat does have powers!" She checked out, checked into another across town and called her boyfriend. He answered from a plane on it's way to England.

"Hello, pretty lady. Did you enjoy your heart throbs play? Wish I could've come."

Hannah eyed the stolen silk tie Tom had used to bound her wrists the night before and deviously grinned. 'I don't. Hiddleston and I hooked up.' "Tom was amazing." 'With a dick that makes yours look microscopic.' "How was Mrs. Finkelsteins second facelift?"

"Useless, but she's rich. I bought you some new lingerie."

"Did you keep the receipt? I'm breaking up with you."

"Hannah, why? What will I tell my parents?"

"Life doesn't always work out as planned? Don't miss your connecting flight to Sweden. Bye."

She hung up, turned her ringer off and opened a box of black hair dye. "Now that I'm screwed, so are you 'Pepper Potts' and your billionaire boyfriend."

[lokiondisneyplus]

Sasha Lane always plays the rebel. “Somebody make me a f***ing fairy princess, please,” says the actor, sighing with exasperation. “I promise I won’t say f***.” She is the type of plucky young star you imagine can do anything but, until now, Lane has excelled at playing the daring renegade, whether it’s as a teenage runaway in American Honey, the dazzling coming-of-age film that made her name in 2016, as a spliff-smoking “bad kid” in The Miseducation of Cameron Post, or, this month, as a violent fugitive in Amazon Prime’s Utopia.

The 25-year-old puts these sorts of roles down to her 20 tattoos and her dreadlocks. “I’m immediately seen as dirty and dark,” she says, recalling when she attended the illustrious Met Gala event in 2018, wearing a white lace dress. “I had diamonds in my hair – diamonds,” she says, with faux indignation. “Somebody was like, ‘She's so grungy.’ I was like, ‘What about this outfit says: ‘I'm gonna do a head bang and burn a town down?’ No. I'm sipping with my pinkie up and feeling very graceful and I wish you would just let me have my moment.”

Lane is just as captivating to watch on Zoom as she is in her films. She plays with her distinctive dreads – piling them atop her head, sweeping them over her shoulder – and her hands spiral around each other as she talks in a rhythmic southern drawl. When we speak, Lane has just got off a video call with her one-year-old daughter. She's currently in Atlanta, where she’s rumoured to be shooting the new Thor-spin off series, Loki, with Tom Hiddleston. “I'm just gonna skip over that one,” she says, laughing, when asked about it.

No one could have foreseen that Lane would end up here, though she is easily one of the most intriguing actors of the moment. She’d never planned on acting, let alone liked it, and thought she’d join the Peace Corps after college. But in 2014 her life changed forever when, aged 19, she was spotted on a Miami beach by Andrea Arnold. The director had just lost her lead actor for American Honey, the dizzying, sun-soaked Cannes Jury Prize-winner about a girl who decides to cut and run with a band of misfits. Among the tens of thousands of students getting wasted on spring break, Lane stood out.

“It was a crazy trip,” says Lane. “Me and my friends had been kicked out of a hotel and we ended up on this beach. I had no care in the world and that's when Andrea saw me.” Arnold told Lane she was making a film and later that night, while two of her friends were passed out from partying on her hotel bed, Lane improvised scenes in the lobby. “I had definitely been drinking that day, but I can hold my own,” she says now.

The next day over breakfast, Arnold asked Lane to stick around for another week. Lane was cautious. “I was like, ‘Alright, well if you turn out to be a murderer this is not gonna go well for you. I know s***. You're gonna have to really hack up my body if we're gonna do this.’ Which is weird to say to someone, but I did,” says Lane. She stayed, and by the end of the week she’d been cast in the film opposite Shia LaBeouf. She dropped out of college and flew out to Oklahoma to start shooting.

Her resulting performance as Star, a teenager from a broken home who hits the road with a travelling, partying sales crew in the midwest, was magnetic. With no professional experience, Lane managed to delicately balance her character’s mixture of vulnerability and grit.

Lane, like Star, left her life behind to go on the road with the film’s cast and crew. “I didn't know how to act,” she says. “So I didn't know what to do other than pull stuff from my own mind. I got to the point where I’d be crying to Andrea, saying, ‘I can't tell the difference between who I am and who Star is.’ We were in a bubble and had no visitors. We slept in s****y motels together, we were in the van for hours. There was no escaping American Honey.”

Star’s love interest in the film is the crew’s wild, hyperactive “business manager” Jake, a rat-tailed LaBeouf who Lane was reportedly dating off-screen. LaBeouf was intense on set. In one instance, Star was supposed to be angry with Jake, but Lane was struggling to conjure the emotion. “I was just laughing,” she says. “So Shia started telling me, ‘You're ruining this scene. You're f***ing ruining the whole movie.’ I knew what he was doing but it hurt and it was pissing me off. I just snapped and then they started filming and it was like, ‘Oh right, I see what you did there. You f***er.’ It was smart.”

The kids in the film, who are from forgotten, midwestern towns, are in a demographic that Donald Trump claims to be the voice of. Our interview is a week ahead of the 2020 election, and Lane is not convinced. “He's had his time and he has nothing to show for it,” she says. “He didn't deliver. I understood, especially back then, why certain people voted for him. They just wanted to believe that he would put money in and give us jobs, but it didn't work out that way.”

Like Star, Houston-born Lane moved around a lot as a child, between Texas, Florida and Dallas, and helped raise her little sisters. “I don't really like to talk about my family but my mom was gone a lot,” she says. “I played this role of being the glue, trying to keep everyone together. I grew up really, really young. Bad things happened to me as a kid but I had this feeling that it made me a better person. I have empathy and perspective.” As a result, she continues, she “internalised a lot because I never wanted people to feel my pain. I wanted to appear strong and light and be able to take care of everyone. Meanwhile, I would sit in my closet, give myself like 10 seconds to cry, then I would suck it up and be like, ‘OK, move forward, time to go get my sisters some food and act like everything's OK.’ I got really good at pretending things were OK.”

When Lane went to college, she started to crack. “I ended up getting diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder,” she says. “There are voices in your head, things are really dark. It's hard to explain to people who care about you that you can't sleep and you're hearing voices all day and you're sad and you're just tired. By the time I was a teenager, I was so tired.”

In the weeks before Lane met Arnold in 2014, the voices were “saying something nice for the first time”. “They told me, ‘Hold on, something’s coming that will allow you to fill your purpose and let you breathe,’” she says. “People ask me all the time, ‘If American Honey didn't happen, what would you be doing?’ Truly, I don't think I'd be here. I think it saved my life.”

There is a serendipity to Lane’s acting career. First, American Honey came out of the blue. Then, in 2018, she starred in Desiree Akhavan’s gay conversion drama The Miseducation of Cameron Post as a girl raised in a hippy commune. The part resonated with Lane as someone who refuses to put a label on her sexuality and whose brother had a difficult time growing up gay and black in Houston. “I've never seen myself as someone who's like, ‘Hey, I'm queer, I'm bisexual, I'm this,’” says Lane. “I just have a very broad and open and unique way of loving. I can literally fall in love with a f***ing squirrel. Anyone.”

Her brother, she says, “always prayed he’d be normal”, much like the characters in Cameron Post try to “pray away the gay”. She says the film moved some elderly conservative viewers to tears and has helped to change people’s minds.

After that, Lane landed roles in the warm indie drama Hearts Beat Loud and the horror Daniel Isn’t Real, and her latest project is the US remake of Dennis Kelly’s Utopia, about a gang of bright youngsters who are in possession of a cult graphic novel that seems to predict disastrous real-world epidemics, making them the target of a shadowy deep state organisation. Lane plays yet another woman on the run, Jessica Hyde, who has been evading The Network all her life and who helps the young group survive.

Lane studied feral cats to get into the character’s mindset. “For them, everything is survival mode,” she says. “You're terrified someone's gonna capture you. You don't hang in packs because you're a loner. That's Jessica Hyde.”  

She may be stuck playing the rebel but, through playing misunderstood outliers like Jessica Hyde and Star, Lane wants her work to bring people together and help us to understand each other. “I’m not the biggest public speaker,” she says, “but if I can make films that touch hearts and connect people, that's beautiful. Of course I want to be a part of that.”