STAGSONG a multi muse blog featuring original characters as sung by cash; she/her, 25+. mature content will be present. please refer to CARRD and read rules before following. triggering content ahead
main muse; andrew carter
QUEUE BASED - RUNNING
art blog(derogatory)
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⁂
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@stagsong
STAGSONG a multi muse blog featuring original characters as sung by cash; she/her, 25+. mature content will be present. please refer to CARRD and read rules before following. triggering content ahead
main muse; andrew carter
QUEUE BASED - RUNNING

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Adam Lupton’s paintings show the passing of time as a disorienting blur.
"do you want to try again, and maybe tell me the truth, this time?" windsor.
YES, THIS LOOKED WEIRD his cabin looked like something out of an hbo crime series— the walls tacked up with articles and autopsy reports, a stack of files taking over his dining table. he hadn't expected company— he hadn't expected her. and while he suspected she knew more than she led on, she was the last person he wanted to see this messy side of himself. the last person he wanted to scare away. “ right. ” he ran a hand down the back of his neck and sighed. “ this looks insane, i know. ” any woman in their right mind would turn and run, but maybe windy wasn't totally in her right mind either. “ i spiraled a bit— a lot— after abigail worth died. i've been determined to make sense of it. to bring some kind of closure to her family but i keep digging up other fucked up shit. ain't none of it make sense. and i think there's something bigger at hand. and i'm doin’ it all alone. nobody at the station knows ‘bout this. they can't. they gotta focus on keepin' the peace. i think i gotta focus on this. that's why i’ve been so— i suppose secretive is the word. i'm sorry i wasn't more honest. i was tryna keep you from all this. ”
/ @thelostcauses
cora steps closer to the cork board that his gaze was directed at. hers is too now, sharp eyes scan the articles & the pictures there. if her question had implied it, she doesn’t feel insulted by him keeping back the pieces of information [ … ] after all she was still doing the same, only offering the bits & pieces of her current life to him. the past … a part of her wanted him to know about it. wanted him to know the details, to know of the shadows & the stains on her soul, wanted to share ( & overshare ) but ⸺ the fear of what awaited her on the other side of the conversation was vivid & chaotic, all-consuming even. he probably felt the same way just that … andrew found the courage within himself to let her in. not just his home. but this. fuck. cora wished she’d be brave enough to ignore shaking lips & cool fingertips, brave enough to ignore the hot & heavy feeling in her gut. brave enough not to pretend to be … whole.
“ it’s not crazy. i mean ⸺ it sort of is but not like that. “ eyes linger on the board for another moment before she turns to him finally. the frown on her face softens just enough to be free of judgment. “ do you like … want to talk about it ? “
continued from here @stagsong
THE SOFT PITTER PATTER OF RAIN PELTED THE CABIN ROOF the satisfying music of water clinking off the glass windows filled the silent space as andrew looked up at her, expression of genuine thought. because she was just as much a mystery as the story on that board. this town was small, and she was new to him— enigmatic and he wanted to dissect the story that lived beyond her surface. “ do you? ” he asks simply, sitting up a bit straighter now. “ ‘m afraid there ain't much to say on the matter other than i failed to find the girl alive and now i am most certain there are troubling, dark things out there most common folk wouldn't be able to comprehend. that these god-fearing people here who sleep with their doors unlocked and windows open think they're safe— are counting on me to ensure that— and i know fuck all what's going on out there. ‘n i’m awfully sorry for bringing you into this. i probably should’a kept it to myself. ”

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oh well, you know... *gesturing incoherently* as above, so below.
Ryan Gosling as Luke Glanton The Place Beyond the Pines (2012) dir. Derek Cianfrance
wiping blood or sweat from their brow, holly @ reno eheheheeEHEHEHE
COMING DOWN FROM ADRENALINE HE HAD A GOOEY GAZE SET ON HER like a cartoon character with hearts for eyes— probably a mixture of the coke and booze and thrill of winning a fight. or maybe it was having holly so close, wiping the red dripping from his busted brow. a scar that always seemed to reopen— never able to fully heal because he's always getting hurt there. “ you smell nice. ” he said casually, jaw tensing slightly as she applied the alcohol wipe. “ i'm glad you showed up. would have been less of a win if you weren't there to see it. no point in showing off for nobody. ”
/ @thehollyverse
It's okay. It's over. It's over.
continued from — @stagsong
tilting her head inquisitively, tinsley took a bite of her cheese fries. “no, i didn't miss you. i just don't like being ghosted, hotshot.” she took in reno's appearance, the fucked up knuckles and random bruises on his tattooed skin. that was the biggest difference between them. she avoided getting injured on the job and he seemed to live for it. she waited for him to give the waitress his order, and held up her empty glass. “refill on cherry coke for me. thanks.” snorting at his words, tinsley leaned forward in her seat. “luke offered me another gig and they need a driver. someone who won't flake. get cold feet. he said i could bring on whoever. any interest?”
LIPS CURL INTO AN AMUSED HALF GRIN the slight pop of gold flashes from one of his canines and he nods in interest, taking a sip of black coffee. he had been bored to shit lately, working extra shifts at the shop for money and to keep him occupied. but he didn't want to seem too eager. “ how's the pay? ” he asked, setting his mug down. yes, pay was important but getting out of this slump was more pressing to him. work. he needed work. “ what's the job? ” he asked, leaning more on his elbows.

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BRANDON SKLENAR as SPENCER DUTTON 1923 ‧ The War Has Come Home
God Poppy loves a mushy country love song.
She's busy swaying to the music and showing the card with her drink order to the bartender when she pulls out the stool, and by the time it clicks that this one is next to the only other person sitting at the bar, it's too late to push it back in and walk away.
She's just gonna have to be that person.
Hoping that he doesn't say anything, Poppy slides into her seat and focuses on staring at the bar in front of them with dedication.
But of course, he says something.
Her shoulders hitch up around her ears as she turns towards him a little bit, the notebook she'd set out in front of her primed for her to write out a response.
Sorry. Wasn't paying attention and then didn't want to make it weirder by leaving. You might have thought it was something to do with you.
BLUE EYES WATCH AS SHE SCRIBBLES DOWN ON PAPER his curiosity fully piqued, because it's not something he's used to seeing out here. firstly, he knew most people in this small ranching town and she was unfamiliar to him. secondly, she was writing her reply which made him unsure if he should inquire as to why or just apologize for being a dick in the first place.
instead, he offers a tired smile, nodding his head to her. “ i ain't complaining. promise. ” the bartender comes over and tops off his glass. “ whatever she wants too. just add it to my tab. ” he takes another sip of the amber liquid.
“ you just passin' through? most folks just keep on driving through here. ” he asked, turning now to face her a bit better.
OUTER RANGE S1.E3 • The Time
"Jesus Christ..." She breathed out. There was a certain feeling burrowing in her stomach, nauseating and uncertain. Maddie was also angry. If her father taught her anything, it was that she could not take any of this laying down. The officer sighed, hands on her hips and she began to pace. "I can see why you think that...weird shit happens and people disappear. There's got to be a connection."
"You think it's like a cult or something?" Maddie had gone down some rabbit holes in the past, and the dead cat on her car had a definite cult feel to it. Why use an animal as a warning of all things? "I mean, it's weird that they're using dead animals and blood as warnings. Usually, criminal gangs send messages by gunning someone down, or sending a relative in a box." Upon realizing how morbid she sounded, Maddie cleared her throat.
"That's my theory at least. And from what I looked at Abigail Worth's case and the rest of the documents, there's a definite connection." She said. "Question is, are we gonna hunt them down?" She knew the question was absurd, but there was no other way. "We have to find out who did this, sir. We can't just let them intimidate us like this."
THERE’S A SUBTLE, HUMORLESS LAUGH THAT LEAVES HIS LIPS. “ ain't in the big city anymore. criminal gangs as you say ain't so much a problem— but these woods out here tend to turn some sorts a little mad it seems. ” he pulled a hand down the side of his face and looked to her, a near sorry expression on her features. because she didn't deserves to be dragged into this shit show. “ i reckon maybe it's the isolation out here. i don't know— but you're right. there is a connection to the worth case. least it's all that makes sense in all my own investigating. ”
her passionate reply doesn't go unnoticed and he appreciates the flame that builds behind her gaze. “ i've been looking into it on the side. been trying to make sense of this mess. i could use the extra hands but ain't gonna ask such a thing of ya. you can head out of here, flee back to where you came from. this ain't gonna be your ordinary murder investigation. and i don't wanna put you in that sort'a danger. ”

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Strangers Ethel Cain
I'm just a guy who needs a blow job and some coffee i didnt ask for all this other shit