BAYPEN SYRUP, BLOODY GOOD!

#this is your reminder to think about rust vance today. if you haven't already

"Well," Rust began, "I only use my guns to hunt and only hunt what I eat." "Here we go, sounding like the NRA duders in town—" Cole said, throwing his hands up. "No," Rust shot back. He was clearly tired of Cole's puckishness. [... ]"I'm not some gun nut," Rust continued. "I don't have any bump stocks or semi-automatic weapons. I'm not sitting in my basement with a bowie knife, carving rounds into cop killers. I eat what I hunt. I think if you're going to eat meat, you should know where it comes from and what you're taking from the world." — Clown in a Cornfield (2020) by Adam Cesare

the last members of the class have left for the day, the highest attendance of rust's training so far, which jerri can't help but credit to herself in part, based on how many of her classmates had joined by her recommendation. she's hesitant to say they're... friends, but it's the closest she's ever felt to feeling like she has real friends, anyway.

it's sandra's attendance that jerri really wants to talk about, but she's hesitant to bring her up first, even if rust's aware of jerri's feelings for the older girl. it's rust's boyfriend who seems to be more apt to tease her about it, and maybe some part of her does want to be teased this time, just for an excuse to talk about her, but she tries to focus on how successful the class was otherwise.

the age rage was impressive, really — teenagers, her classmates, some of rust's classmates, and even a few adults. she's proud of @baypen, and she only hopes he feels that pride, too.

"everyone seemed really excited to be here," she says, staying back to help rust clean up now, like she does every session, a responsibility not given by rust but one she'd taken on herself. rust is family to her, so this feels like it should be her responsibility too, anyway. "i didn't think the people i told to come would actually be here," she admits, wincing a little at how pathetic it sounds, really, but she doesn't expect ruston to judge her. "but it looks like we've got a full class now. even mayor maybrook promised me he'd come sometime this week."

#clownfields #ch: r. vance.#thread: r. vance.#do i remember how to write on tumblr. is the thing

it seems as if the reluctance that kettle springs had first met his self-defense courses with has slowly begun to dissipate, though ruston can see that not everyone is quite onboard with it just yet. he's grateful for jerri, and how many of the attendees seemed to have spoken to her, rust sure that most of the class has been populated by her word-of-mouth; he certainly isn't doing advertising of his own, beyond the neatly scrawled note left on the community notice board, which he'd only done at glenn's insistence. he's trying. trying to reintegrate into this town and appear as everything's fine; as if being back isn't cleaving him in two, albeit slowly. these classes are a nice reprieve from cole's complaints about casting or rants about the wardrobe department; from parson's babbling on the radio at all-hours, even when rust requests silence. he's glad to have some time away from the uniform and station, though he's sure the moment he goes outside, he'll hear parson or billy over the radio, needing something from him, and it makes him groan internally already.

he's grateful for jerri's presence in general, but even moreso in this moment when he can use it as an excuse to delay that. cole's busy, anyway, though rust does quickly check his phone to see if cole has sent a message, but he must still be with production for that video meeting for the international investors... there's a frown on his face at the sight of no new notifications, but when jerri begins to speak, he tries to brighten, sliding his phone back into his pocket and turning back to packing up the table of refreshments he'd set out on impulse, trying to make this seem a little more fun. "you're a better judge of that than me," rust admits, laughing softly, not bothering to try and tell jerri she doesn't need to help, because he knows her, knows she won't listen; rust wouldn't, either, when it comes to helping her. "of course your friends listened to you," rust goes on easily, readily naming them as such, because why wouldn't they be? jerri's a good friend. any of them would be honored to call her their friend... "might have to turn someone away to give glenn a spot," rust jokes in a deadpan, flicking his eyes across the room, then focusing on jerri again, and taking a chance, channeling cole for a moment. "not sandra, though. she has potential." this said casually, like he and cole haven't discussed jerri's crush a half-dozen times.

i have so many things i need to say about book 4 but i'm trying to wait until it actually comes out

#my rust thoughts simply go crazy rn.

#ch: r. vance.#study: r. vance.#i'm going to crash out. btw

FROM 4.08, Heavy is the Head

rust is truly the character of all time to me. i miss him. hope you guys do too

#finished my arc of book 4 i am in mourning

#i feel so insane about him rn

"Well," Rust began, "I only use my guns to hunt and only hunt what I eat." "Here we go, sounding like the NRA duders in town—" Cole said, throwing his hands up. "No," Rust shot back. He was clearly tired of Cole's puckishness. [... ]"I'm not some gun nut," Rust continued. "I don't have any bump stocks or semi-automatic weapons. I'm not sitting in my basement with a bowie knife, carving rounds into cop killers. I eat what I hunt. I think if you're going to eat meat, you should know where it comes from and what you're taking from the world." — Clown in a Cornfield (2020) by Adam Cesare

taiturner

CLOWN IN A CORNFIELD (2025) dir. Eli Craig

#ch: r. vance.#dyn: rust & cole.

do you think rust has a crush on cole

no :/

#clownfields #what just bc they are both gay they must like each other 🙄

#i miss him #ch: r. vance.#visuals: r. vance.

VINCENT MULLER as Rust Vance Clown in a Cornfield (2025) dir. Eli Craig

writing hunter causes me physical agony but he's also so fascinating

#i hate him but unfortunately he compels me

cole had been hesitant to come to the haunt, not because he was afraid of it (at least, not on any level that he understands), but because he knows mayor maybrook is against it, and most of all, he knows it makes rust uncomfortable. that should be enough for cole not to entertain this at all, but he likes hunter’s friendship, he thinks, and he’s trying to make an effort to actually be a friend, in a place where so many people are still hesitant to trust him at all. that, and maybe some part of him is just desperate to prove to rust that this isn’t so bad.

except if rust were here, and he saw this, he’d win this back-and-forth between him and cole about the duvalls. he’d also probably be terrified.

“i mean, come on, dude, fire…?” hunter isn’t stupid, right? did he really expect rust’s boyfriend to be thrilled to see this, in the very place where rust barely made it out with his life, permanently scarred forever? scars in which cole thinks are beautiful, a testament of his love and devotion to cole, but it shouldn’t have had to happen in the first place.

“look, i get it. i get the clowns.” he rolls his eyes, because he can’t not, his father’s face covered in clown make up burned into his brain, but he understands why people like hunter and his father want to capitalize on their pain here, even if it's uncomfortable. “but i don’t know about this.” mostly, he’s trying to get ahead of it, protect rust before he finds out that fire is part of their show, and because he’s also trying to win his own argument that the duvall’s farm is not that offensive. hunter’s making that really difficult.

cole does what he always does when he needs to get his way — he flashes that famous grin of his, trying to assure hunter that he's still on his side, and perhaps using that against him, knowing how hunter feels about him. "i don't like it," he says simply, shrugging his shoulders. "just the fire. just feels a little over the top, don't you think? like, the rest is cool." a lie, but cole knows he has to compromise a little to get him on his side, for the sake of rust. "don't ruin it."

#clownfields #ch: h. duvall.#thread: h. duvall.#hunter you stupid bitch

hunter stares blankly, uncomprehending. it hardly seems like a big deal. he wants to repeat the simple fact it's been tested, as if that means anything, as if cole's worried about the potential safety... he's not entirely stupid, of course he understands what happened to rust (it's the only thing the guy ever talks about in interviews! hunter had been skeptical, because how the fuck do you survive that? but he supposes it must be real, in some way, given the state of his face...) but surely that isn't enough of a reason for hunter to not have the display. there was a fire, after all. he's done his best to pretend that the haunt isn't a replica of that night, the costuming resembling frendo, sure, but not close enough for any potential copyright infringement (though he presumes cole owns it now, and surely he wouldn't sue?), and maybe a fire's pushing the limits of that claim... but hunter wants people scared. needs them scared.

he bristles slightly as cole mentions the clowns, immediately interrupting to say, "there's not just clowns." and his voice is, to his mortification, dripping with hurt. because he's sent cole dozens of photos and videos and he thought cole understood. he was certain that was why he finally came... or, one of the reasons, anyway...

brow furrowed, he looks at cole, expression nearing remorse, only because it's clear cole is upset. but maybe not too much, since he's smiling, and hunter can't help but exhale in relief, stepping slightly closer, taking it to mean that he isn't mad at least. it stings to hear that cole doesn't like it, but something about how he proclaims it's too much... hunter thinks maybe he's right. he'd seen videos online of haunts employing pyro and it looked cool, but then there were the bad reviews, customers claiming they'd been singed or worse, were seeking damages... "it cost a lot," he says softly, cutting his eyes away from cole. his father's going to be pissed, but... "yeah. maybe you're right. i mean, it's fucking cool without it. i don't need to try to copy other people, you know? everything i'm doing on my own, it's already doing so well with the test groups we've had come through." said without irony, hunter not considering even for a second that nothing here he'd come up with on his own, everything in some way connected back to founder's day.

cole scoffs, his head tilting to the side as if that one's obvious. "i never trusted cops," he says, shaking his head. "pretty sure my dad's most loyal acolyte had it out for me since i was born," he mumbles, referring to dunne, finding it easier to joke about them both lightly rather than say anything so... direct, even though this isn't better, usually earning him an uncomfortable glare from rust and quinn.

he did like marta lee, though. he knows he doesn't have to bring up her name to know the same was true for glenn. it makes him feel guilty for leaving, because glenn's lost enough — even though he's sure a few 20 year olds aren't typically his pick for friends. but glenn is family, and cole feels a responsibility to his best friend who's gone off on her own — and to the person he was on the night that glenn helped save him — to take care of him. he just hopes that glenn will still let him help from wabang.

cole straightens up, giving glenn a small nod. "not planning to be a stranger, you know. so— you don't have to miss me too much. i'll be around," he promises, knowing that there's probably part of glenn that is glad to have cole out of his hair, but... they're still family, too, after everything, especially with quinn gone now, so he wants to reassure glenn they're not really leaving, too. moving doesn't mean they're gone. "gotta keep checking in, making sure the mayor's taking care of things here," he teases. "but you just let me know when you need a vacation. we might just find a hot cowgirl... or cowboy out that way for ya."

#clownfields #ch: g. maybrook.#thread: g. maybrook.

"ah..." glenn winces. he should've expected that response, should've anticipated what emotions his words might stir in the boy. glenn can't help but recall that first meeting with dunne in the diner, how clearly uncomfortable quinn had been, glenn nervously laughing through it, trying to dodge his own negative feelings just the sight of the man had caused. he'd wanted so desperately for kettle springs to work, to escape philadelphia and all of its ghosts... and now he's left to wonder—if he'd been more receptive to quinn's unease, would things have unfolded differently? would they have gotten out of there before the bloodshed?

but then he has to ask, would cole be here to talk to him if they had? rust's been insistent on more than one occasion, when he allows himself to talk about any of it with glenn, that they wouldn't have survived that night without quinn and everything she did.

everyone she killed... glenn trembles with the thought. she might be killing more people out there now.

he wishes again that they weren't leaving, but he understands why they are, and it's not exactly something he feels comfortable repeating to cole. and they deserve a fresh start. still, glenn's smile is sorrowful as he replies, "well, i have a great assistant, so you're leaving the place in good hands." jerri's, he means. who he can't help but think of, especially as cole's comment allows an opening for the memory of izzy to slip through, and glenn's smile fades now, a sharp pain knifing through his heart, making him gasp a little. glenn tries to recover, doesn't want to break down in front of a kid, for christ's sake, but he can't quite seem to rearrange his face back into something lighthearted. "—a cowboy," he tries to laugh. "don't know how that'd work out. horses are fucking terrifying."

#the guy ever.#rust and his special interest in guns <3 #ch: r. vance.#visuals: r. vance.#guns tw #flashing gif #gore tw

"Well," Rust began, "I only use my guns to hunt and only hunt what I eat." "Here we go, sounding like the NRA duders in town—" Cole said, throwing his hands up. "No," Rust shot back. He was clearly tired of Cole's puckishness. [... ]"I'm not some gun nut," Rust continued. "I don't have any bump stocks or semi-automatic weapons. I'm not sitting in my basement with a bowie knife, carving rounds into cop killers. I eat what I hunt. I think if you're going to eat meat, you should know where it comes from and what you're taking from the world." — Clown in a Cornfield (2020) by Adam Cesare

#the ship ever. in case anyone forgot

— All That's Left in the World, Erik J. Brown

taiturner

Jordan Gonzalez as Richard Harkness THE LONG WALK (2025) dir. Francis Lawrence

#ch: j. myers.#visuals: j. myers.#an angel 💗#the cutoff vest really is so julian

it’s rust’s loud colton that finally gets him to focus, but he doesn’t look at him, his eyes shut tightly as if it’s going to stop the tears that flow now. or — like he will just stop… whatever. he needs all of it to stop. except for rust — whose presence is hardly registered at first, but then he whines as he’s brought into his arms, immediately accepting it, his arms curling up between their bodies like he needs to be surrounded by rust’s warmth.

and he’s used to this — the way rust searches him for wounds, and if cole was more stable, maybe that would be ironic to him: he feels like an open wound, one that will never heal, and doesn’t rust get that? he’s not worth taking care of the way rust does with such devotion.

it should’ve been matt, he thinks, but it’s a thought that threatens to make him nauseous again, because for as much hatred as he feels for matt trent right now, he meant it when he told rust earlier that he didn’t want any of his friends to get hurt, even now, and he hates that his own agony leads him to thoughts like that. but rust is right; victoria wouldn’t want this from him. that doesn’t change anything, though, cole spending the last few weeks wondering how he’s still standing while someone as beautiful and sweet and kind as victoria was taken so abruptly.

despite the question being real, despite how desperate he was to voice it — cole can’t help but hate himself even more for saying it to rust, knowing it’s only hurting him even more, so now, that’s all he can think about, because rust is here. victoria isn’t, matt isn’t, rust is. he can’t bring victoria back, he can’t tell matt off, but — he can try to fix this, maybe the only thing he has any control over.

his hands curl into fists, and the lightly press to rust’s chest, but he’s not making an effort to get away from him. instead, he’s trying to ground himself, trying to make sense of everything running through his head. “it’s not— stop— don’t say sorry.” even he can tell that his words don’t make much sense, so he whines, trying again. “not your fault. i’m— stupid. i’m dumb. i didn’t… fuck,” he decides on, because how can he possibly get all of this straight when his head is pounding and his heart feels shattered into a billion pieces?

“didn’t know. i didn’t know he said something. i thought— i thought you— no, you wouldn’t,” he says, like he’s arguing with himself, the person he’d been an hour ago when he jumped to the worst conclusion. “no. you wouldn’t do that to me. i know you wouldn’t. i was scared. scared— seeing you like that.” his words are muffled between his sobs, even more as he’s only speaking to rust’s chest, not looking up at him, but still, he goes on, words spilling that he can barely make sense of himself. his voice gets louder now, more desperate, snot spilling from his face and making his words slur worse.

“it was so fucking scary, rusty, so fucking scary, because i love you, and i can’t fucking lose you too.” his fist punches lightly against rust’s chest again, as if to drive in his point. “i can’t fucking lose you again.” a statement that maybe doesn’t make any sense — but it does to cole, in some way, each word falling from his lips impulsively, barely able to understand what he's saying, but he did lose rust. he lost him when cole got scared. and if something happened to rust today — whether the fight went wrong and he got too hurt, or he’d killed matt… he’d lose him again, worse than before, like some twisted punishment cole had easily blamed himself for.