#(it's because he did like. all of the drugs in the state of texas.)

[hellishjoel]

ungodly and unprofessional

5.6k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader

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summary: who said anything about falling in love? you're just co-workers. warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), smoking, descriptions of food and drink, reader is described to have hair (not descriptive of what color/length/etc.) and wears a waitress uniform, explicit smut, consensual somnophilia, swearing, pet names, allusions to bad parenting/parental abuse, descriptions of a parent abusing drugs and alcohol (please heed these warnings and do not read if you are concerned these may be triggers), lastly not beta'd (lmk if you're interested!) A/N: five or six months later, who really knows. believe it or not, I was never not working on this or thinking about it for all of those months... which is crazy. I completely wing these chapters which is probably why it takes so long but you guys don't mind, right? enjoy these cuties falling deeper <3 I almost forgot - shoutout to BistroHuddy on TikTok because one of their segments inspired something in here (but no spoilers!)

“To love someone is firstly to confess: I'm prepared to be devastated by you.” Billy-Ray Belcourt. 

You have this silly poetry book someone gave you as a birthday present or holiday gift exchange a few years ago. You’ve never picked it up until now. You’re shocked to say all of these cheesy love quotes and poems make you think of one very specific person: a guy with dark curls, a scruffy beard, amber eyes, and the perfect smile. Francisco. 

Falling for a man like Frankie feels like growing up— a sign of maturing compared to the ghosts of terrible boyfriend's past. 

Come to find out, it’s easier to go for the wrong guys, easier on your heart in a way — you don’t feel like you are actually losing anything. 

That’s why you would bet on losing dogs. Invest your emotions and need for romance in those who don’t reciprocate. The ones who despise commitment or lack emotional availability leave you in a state of disappointment. 

Better that than full-blown heartache. Better than ripping yourself open at the seams for another, only to be the one to sew yourself back up again. But not better than winning. 

The letter Frankie’s father sent him weeks ago had been burned into your brain. Every single word, each break of a new paragraph, lines of apologies, and convincing stories of ‘the good times’ they used to have. 

Frankie appeared to be just as wary about the letter as you were, neither of you so easily trusting. Frankie didn’t trust his father, but you did trust Frankie—end of story. 

You’ve never known Frankie to be so tightly closed about something that bothers him. He was the type of man who wears his heart on his sleeve, an open book. 

Aside from allowing you to read the letter, you two have barely spoken about it. And not due to your lack of trying. 

There wasn’t a need for you to bring clarity to the situation, it wasn’t up to you to encourage Frankie to allow his father back into his life. But there was still a lot of emotional trauma that he carried that he didn’t have to bear alone. You just wanted him to know that you support him in whatever avenue he decides is best. 

To forgive or to forget. 

Frankie releases a sigh from his parted lips, squeezing his eyes closed tighter as your alarm chimes from your phone on the bedside table. He hates the fucking morning shift. 

The air is sticky and thick, and the fan on his bedroom ceiling is doing little to help. Late August is still taking its toll on Texas and its residents, but he’s reminded that this time last year, he sunk down on his knees in the back kitchen and tasted you on his tongue for the first time. Can’t believe it’s been a year since then. Plus all the events that have transpired since. 

There’s no label between you two other than the fact you are exclusive— putting your focus on each other and not seeing other people. It was good, better than nothing with you. 

His eyelashes finally flutter open, seeing you shift in the dark to turn off the alarm, only to dig your face deep into your pillow. He thinks you’re fucking adorable. 

Frankie is by no means a morning person, but waking up beside you has changed his perspective. Your hair is a scattered mess, the ponytail having fallen loose in the tosses and turns of last night. The sunlight peaking through the blinds highlights the slope of your nose and Cupid’s bow. Arms tucked into your front, leg hiked up like a ballerina.

His mind starts to swirl at the conversation you shared recently, that you wanted to try something… new. To be surprised. To be taken by him in your sleep. 

He was shocked to hear you say it, all shy and meek - it’s not a side of you he sees often. But it’s the vulnerability talking, advocating the trust you share together. 

“I want to wake up with you inside me.”

Frankie had to blink a few times, his large hand cradling your jaw as you spoke in whispers between the sheets. “You— I didn’t know you’d be into that sort of thing.”

“We don’t have to if it’s not your thing. But there’s something about you moving me where you want me to be, being completely under your control, even a little helpless,” you pause, uncertain if your words would scare him off. 

The exact opposite. Frankie was intrigued. 

“The thrill of trying not to wake you up.” He continues, watching your glowing smile return, indicating that Frankie understands why this would feel good to you. 

“My natural reaction, trusting you, knowing that you’ll be careful, knowing that you’re using me— it’s hot, Frankie. You have my consent, I wanna try.” 

Frankie’s stomach churns with excitement, butterflies spreading through his abdomen and up to his chest, his heart thunking eagerly. 

He was slow and methodical, not wanting you to stir from your sleepy state. Nipping at his lower lip, teeth piercing the skin, he works up the courage to touch you. A rough and calloused hand travels up your side, pushing up your sleep tee and watching goosebumps line the tips of his fingers.

Frankie presses slow kisses to the top of your shoulder, feeling his cock swell against the plump of your ass in all of the excitement. He whispers your name, soft and raspy with the morning hour. Other than a small twitch of your nose, you’re out cold. 

“Shh, s’okay angel, m’gonna make you feel good.” The desire stirs in his stomach, urging him to please you in your sleep just like you asked. 

With two crooked fingers, he curls them around the band of your panties and slowly drags them down your soft thighs. You let out a slow sigh between your parted lips, Frankie pausing to watch as you settle once more. 

 Slipping two skilled fingers between your legs, he slowly massages up and down your folds. He’s surprised to already feel the slick between your legs, a low groan of approval leaving the depths of his throat. 

There’s a shift, your hips squirming for more of his touch. You’re so perfectly pliant for him, causing the embers low in his belly to grow with anticipation, the blood rushing to his cock as it hardens against the curve of your ass. 

“Good girl,” he remarks as you let out a little whimper upon the pads of Frankie’s fingers finding your swollen clit. “Even asleep, you’re nice and wet for me, princess.” 

Goddammit, he thinks, how does she have this much of an effect while perfectly asleep? He can’t stand the feeling of not touching her, the carnal need to take her was strong like a magnet, forcing their bodies together. 

One yank and he was out of his briefs, chewing on his lower lip in concentration. He needed to move you, to perfectly fit in the nook of your body, you’d have to be good and yield to him. 

Frankie hikes up your leg and fills in the spaces between your bodies, stroking over himself as he slowly lines his leaking tip along your entrance. Just as he notches his tip inside, a quiet and sleepy gasp leaves your perfect pillowy lips. 

“Right there, baby, you just stay right there for me,” Frankie growls against your ear, his hips flush with yours as he slowly lets inch by inch of him be swallowed by your warm cunt. 

After that, there wasn’t a lot of nicety to him. The level of control he carried was lost. He just wanted to take and take, feel and fuck. He wants to use you like his own personal toy; do whatever he pleases with no resistance. You were his to devour. 

He’s still inside you, but he’s gotten this far, and you’re still out. Even in sleep, you’re pulsing around his cock, so fucking tight around him that it steals the air from his lungs. There’s a hint of discomfort in your face, a quiet gasp held within your expression. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, the hand he holds firmly on your hip now moving under your sleep tee. 

You were so fucking accessible to him, so beautiful, so peaceful being fucked raw. 

He rolls your nipple between his thumb and index finger, getting the reaction he’s been waiting for all morning. A sweet, slow moan tumbles loose from your throat, your hips reeling back to grind against Frankie’s lap. 

He’s somewhat pleased he knows you this well, knows what gets you worked up and gushing. The fact that even in your sleep, you have this reaction towards him makes the fire burning inside his abdomen grow. Maybe a deep part of him gets off on knowing you so well. 

Frankie lets out a sigh at his own thoughts, lightly nipping the skin of your exposed shoulder as he slowly rolls his hips back and glides in again, feeling the drag of your tight pussy keeping him lubed up and warm.

If he weren’t so desperate to fuck you, he’d love to just sit inside you like this all goddamn day. It would probably give him the same comfort as the first cup of coffee. 

He gives your breast one more firm squeeze before returning the attention back to your clit, all desperate and tingling with each eager circle he gives you. 

“So fucking perfect,” he whispers against your ear, his hips continuing at a steady pace until he simply needs more. He hikes up your leg once again to allow himself more movement, smirking as your ass smacks against the front of his hips with each thrust that now jostles your body. 

You’ll surely wake any moment, shocked and sleepy and startled at his cock so deep inside your perfectly spent cunt. 

You whimper each time he fills you, your face digging into the pillow as you moan against the cover. Frankie’s efforts grow needy and demanding, fisting your hair out of his way as he sucks marks into your neck; teeth and tongue massaging the skin before leaving a bruise in its wake.

A sweet little sob exits your parted lips, Frankie groaning at the pretty little noises you make. 

“Take me so well, princess. You want me to keep fuckin’ you, huh?” He snarls against your neck, smirking as you hiss at the sensations you’re feeling all throughout your body.  

Suddenly, your eyes flutter open. They absorb the settings around you and it all clicks. A long, desperate moan crawls from the depths of your throat, your movements sluggish but your hand eventually clasps onto Frankie’s forearm, his fingers still swirling around your clit. 

“Ohmy— Frankie, fuck,” you gasp as you feel the full force of his cock drilling deep inside your pussy. Your voice is still thick with sleep, eyes cloudy with lust, and skin-prickling sensations that you had never felt before; a million emotions, but the standout being desperation to come undone like this with a man you trust. 

“This what you wanted, angel? Wake up with my cock stuffed between your legs?” Frankie smirks as he presses his lips against your cheek, jaw dropping against your own as you ride out the high together. 

You cry out something wrecked, a garble of syllables as your spine arches against his front. You weren’t given the pleasure of feeling the orgasm build and build; you woke up at its high heat. 

In an instant, your skin was clammy, hair sticking to your skin as desperate pants filled the room, along with broken moans of Frankie’s name. 

It’s exactly what you wanted, maybe better. Yes, way better. 

You’re so tight, literally clinging to every single inch he gives you as your slick drenches his cock. Your nails dig into his tan skin, feeling the muscles and tendons work to play with your clit. 

A whimper leaves you as the warmth in your stomach boils over, turning your head over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes are dark, cast over with lust as he stole you in your sleep. In an instant, he meets you with a messy kiss, your bodies and the bed still jolting with each rough thrust he gives you. 

“Please,” you moan against his lips, nodding your head as you look into his eyes. “Come inside me, I wanna feel it, please, give it to me, Frankie,” your words turn into a whine as he begins to fuck you harder, deeper, his tip tickling your cervix as you damn near blackout from the pleasure. 

The pleasure inside of you finally reaches the surface. The feeling was like a wave breaching over your rocky shores, washing over you both in pleasure as your cunt spasms around his thick cock. 

Frankie spoils your clit as his hips snap against your ass, one, two, three more times before the feeling of you overcomes him. He braces you tightly in his arms, panting against your shoulder, eyes clenching closed as he lets out broken grunts of release. He paints your insides with his spend, both of you relaxing in one another’s hold as you slowly descend from heaven. 

“Jesus Christ,” Frankie breathes, shaking his head with a tilted smirk. “You don’t know what you do to me.” He remarks as you look over your shoulder in a haze. 

You whimper as you pull him in closer, fingers weaving into the curls at the back of his head and encouraging him to meet your parted lips. 

The words are at the tip of your tongue, and you can feel them spread heat throughout your body. You can hear both of your hearts beating, thundering against the human flesh, and signaling the feeling of being alive. 

Frankie waits for the words. The feeling of anticipation has been lingering for quite some time. Your touch of nervousness was welcome, expected even. A moment in time when your heart feels exposed but also overwhelmingly full. Only hoping that the other person feels the same way, yet uncertain of how they will respond. A game of chicken of who will say it first and who will have to respond. The leap of faith one will be forced to make and the right words the other will have to find.

Both roles are downright frightening. 

You’re risking everything, the biggest gamble one can make without physical currency. 

But he sees the panic behind your eyes, the nervewracking feeling of saying the sacred words to someone, maybe even for the first time. And he knows that they will be worth it to hear. 

“I know,” he whispers against your lips, shaking his head in a way that tells you he knows what you’re thinking. “I know.” 

You don’t attend church, so you have one question: why the fuck is God sending people to get brunch after Sunday’s service? Why is that their beck and call? 

Every Sunday morning, like clockwork, a flock of people flood the diner with their church clothes and a hankering for waffles and Frankie’s house lumberjack skillet (you wanna know what’s in it, don’t you?)

Frankie’s Secret Ingredients:

Potatoes: 1/4 lb (about 4-5 small potatoes)

Olive Oil: 1/2 tablespoon

Breakfast Sausage Links: 3 oz (about 4 links)

Onion: 1/8 of a whole onion, chopped

Red Pepper: 1/4 of a whole red pepper, chopped

Jalapenos: 1/2 jalapeno, sliced (omit if person looks too old to handle)

Butter: 1 tablespoon

Hickory Maple Seasoning: 1/2 teaspoon

Eggs: 2 large eggs

Milk: 1 tablespoon

Cheddar Cheese: 2 tablespoons, shredded

Anyway, Tommy’s Diner is slammed by mid-morning, and you’re working up a sweat. You’re wiping at your neck and forehead every few minutes, and the sun filtering through the windows does little justice to cool your skin. Tina called out sick, which is code for hungover from Saturday. It’s overwhelming. Your brain feels like the scrambled eggs you just plated for that family of four.

“Enjoy,” you whisper a little breathlessly, tucking your notepad into the front of your apron, rubbing at your temple with the heel of your hand as you walk past the rest of your tables. 

By the time you lift your head, you see a large potbelly man who is waving an arm up above his head, fingers already snapping incessantly. He looked like a chubby rat, with a large dark-haired mustache and a shirt that didn’t fully cover the beer gut he was sporting.

“Uhm, hello? Miss, can we get some service over here?” 

Jesus fucking Christ. Your jaw tightens a few notches, pushing your hair out of your face and wrapping around to their table. You remember them; you took their table’s order a bit ago now - shit, did you forget their plates? No, you didn’t. 

Stopping at the head of their table, you smile politely at the large family. 

“Hi, can I get you something while you wait?”

The man scoffs and snaps, “Uh, yeah, our food.”

Taking a deep breath wasn’t enough; you were a ticking time bomb. “Sir, do you see how many people are in the diner? We’re at capacity with a line out the door. I understand you’ve been waiting, but our kitchen is backed up and-” 

“Bull-honkey-bullcrap, little miss,” the man raises his voice, spitting violently with each syllable, “This is ridiculous! We’ve been sittin’ here for nearly an hour. How hard is it to make some eggs and Mickey Mouse pancakes, huh? You just that stupid? What the hell is goin’ on back there? Are you people completely incompetent, or are you just ignorin’ us?”

Worse things have been said to your face, but you’re at your breaking point. You can feel your face flush with warmth radiating throughout your body. Now, the entire diner is staring at you from all the commotion. Your lungs feel tight, a headache casting heavy behind your face. Tears line your eyes, but you don’t dare let them fall. 

“Again, I’m really sorry, but like I said, the kitchen is backed up.” But apologizing isn’t enough. This guy just wanted someone to take his punches. 

“Don’t even try to apologize. I don’t wanna hear your pathetic excuses. How hard is it to cook some damn eggs? This place is a joke. You must be the worst server I’ve ever dealt with. ‘Nd I swear, if I wanted this kind of useless service, I’d go to a fast food joint. Is this how you treat payin’ customers, or ya’ll just this lazy? Do your job, or I’ll make sure everyone knows how worthless you and this diner is.”

You clutch the empty coffee pot tightly, biting your tongue. Turning swiftly, you head straight for the back swinging door. You don't intend to contribute to the chaos or the bustling mess in the kitchen, but here, in the safety of the back section, you allow a few stray tears to escape.

Shoulder blades hitting the cold brick, you wish to blend into the wall. It feels like the air’s been knocked out of you, your chest heavy and tight. Every sound around you blurs as the man’s harsh words replay in your mind, louder and louder each time. Your hands shake just enough to want to hide them behind your back, feeling afraid to have eyes on you in such a vulnerable state. Exposed. You’ve absorbed the anger meant for something or someone else, so now, it sticks to you, something you can’t wash away. 

Your name echoes once, twice. 

“Hey,” A calm amongst the rushing waves - it’s Frankie. You blink him into focus, bleary tears slowly fading away. His red bandana is tied tight around his forehead to catch the sweat from his forehead and hair. His face is laced with concern. He wipes his hands off on his apron, gently capturing your face as he shields you from the rest of the kitchen. 

And just like that, life returns to your body. You can feel the tips of your fingers, previously tingling, wiping under your eyes as you hiccup through your breaths. Frankie knows this high-traffic area will only make your anxiety worse. 

“It’s okay, take a deep breath and tell me what happen.”

The eyes of the kitchen staff are slowly starting to turn to you, asking if you’re alright and why you’re upset. Shaking your head dismissively, you blink away your tears and look down at the grubby floor that probably hasn’t been mopped since the invention of flip phones. 

“I’m fine. This customer just got pissed and yelled at me. He was upset that his food was running behind, and I tried to explain that the kitchen was backed up.” You part your lips to continue, but the jaw drops of the kitchen staff signal shock by your words. 

They all start honking in unison like a flock of geese. 

“He what?”

“Which fuckin’ table?”

“You okay, sweetheart? Fuck them.” 

Frankie's back straightens stiff, having previously been craning to see your face, now strict with annoyance. 

“Is that him?” Frankie asks as he walks to the window between the kitchen and the back counter, narrowing his eyes on the rat man and his family. 

“Frankie, please don't,” you huff, already refilling your pots of coffee and hoping to just forget the whole thing ever happened. "It's okay, it happens."

But it’s not okay. Because this guy made you cry, and what the hell was it for? Some scrambled eggs and bacon on delay?

The rest of the line cooks have abandoned their food to gawk at the asshole who thinks he can get away with yelling at one of their own like that. 

Frankie tightens his bandana and peels off his gloves, slapping them down in the trash. 

His boots thunder across the linoleum, catching the attention of many of the patrons on his way to the booth by the window where the rat man has continued to reside angrily. Even worse, he chuckles at the sight of Frankie. 

“Take a load of this guy," the rat man appears to mutter to his wife who looks between them both with startled eyes. "Okay, okay, just bring back the pretty waitress. I’ll tell her I’m sorry.” He sneers, shaking his head. 

“No, you’re done with her. You’re dealin’ with me now.” Frankie snags an empty chair from a nearby table, turns it around, and straddles the seat as he gets in the burly man's face. 

“I just feel terrible that we’re not meeting the quality of service you expected. So what exactly is the problem?” Frankie asks with a hint of venom lining his words. 

“Well- we’ve been waitin’ here for half an hour and-”

“Right, and what did the pretty waitress say?”

The man scoffs lightly, feeling embarrassed with all the eyes on him not once but twice now. “Well, she said the kitchen was backed up.”

“That’s right, that’s right, well, I’m the fuckin’ kitchen. You wanna yell at someone? Well, I thought I’d give you the chance to yell at me since, hey, I'm in charge of the kitchen today. Please, tell me your honest review.”

The rat man stares blankly, looking from left to right in surprise, but his family all gawks at Frankie. 

Frankie waits, eyes unblinking, face hardened as the man sputters up something weak in response. 

“This is ungodly and unprofessional,” he gargles, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. 

“You’re absolutely right!” Frankie says, smacking the table with his closed fist before pointing at the rat man, the tip of his finger inches from his face. “I am unprofessional, but that’s because I don’t have the great customer service skills of our waitresses. That’s her job,” Frankie juts a thumb backward towards the kitchen in your direction. “So now, instead of cookin’ you and your ugly wife and kids some food, I gotta come out here and knock some sense into ya since you seemed to have lost your manners. So you gonna let her do her job so I can get back to mine?”

You can only watch from the window in shock, hand over mouth, unblinking eyes - but it’s like a car crash you can’t look away from. The man is shocked into an embarrassed silence. 

“We’ll just… we’ll wait. There’s-uh-there’s a lotta people here.” 

Frankie sighs and smiles with fake relief. He stands from the chair, looking around the quiet restaurant. 

“Anybody else have somethin' they wanna say?”

They all seem too scared of Frankie to complain again to the psycho chef. Chants of ‘Everything’s great!’ or “Thank you!” echo through the dining room. 

You smile warmly, forcing yourself to turn away from the scene and clean up your teary makeup in the bathroom. But all you can think about is Frankie. Francisco. Stupid Catfish. Stepping in like that to protect you, to make that jerk take accountability. It makes your heart flutter knowing how much he cares. And you feel the same way.

It’s about time you tell him. 

Knuckles wrap against the bathroom door, and an echo of, “You okay?” follows. 

He comes in without a response, somewhat relieved to find you adjusting your hair and wiping at the smeary makeup. Your eyes soften at the sight of him, watching in the reflection. He looks disheveled and annoyed, shaking his head as he starts ranting about rat man. 

“I don’t get how people like that- the God-loving church people- come in here and act like they weren’t just told at a sermon to love thy neighbor or whatever bullshit.”

He continues, but all you do is stare.

A part of you thinks he defends others due to his childhood. No one picks on the people Frankie cares about. That letter riled him up, maybe more than either of you had realized. He’s thinking about those times of the past, the innocent hurt by the deviant. 

“You didn’t deserve that, I’m sorry, he’s a fucking dick. You don’t have to take his food out, I’ll do it. Honey,” he breathes, hand resting on your shoulder as he gently turns you around to face him. “Are you mad at me? I know you told me not to go out there, but no one makes you cry if I can help it, y’know? I don’t want him to think he can get away with that.”

Once Frankie starts ranting, it’s really hard to get him to stop. 

“Frankie,” you breathe out, resting your hand over the one he holds on your shoulder. 

“I mean, does he really think that it’s smart to be rude to the staff? I’ll spit in his food, and it will feel really good because he’ll have no idea.”

“Frankie,”

“You’re a good fucking waitress! Doesn’t he see the entire breakfast bar and all the booths filled with guests? The line out the door wasn’t an indication of how busy it is? Get a fuckin’ brain, I mean-”

In an instant, you tilt your chin up, catching his gaze just long enough to see the shift in his eyes before your lips meet. Your hands slide around his neck, fingers weaving into the soft curls at the nape, gently tugging him down toward you. The kiss begins with an urgency, part playful, part to silence his words, but mostly, it's to thank him in a way that words never could.

Frankie’s initial surprise fades quickly as he melts into you, his breath hitching for a moment. His hands travel to your waist, sliding around until they lock just above your hips, anchoring you to him. He presses closer, his touch firm yet tender, and slows the kiss, savoring the warmth of your lips. You feel the way his body relaxes, how he leans in, letting the world around you both fall away as he holds you, close and unmoving, like he’s never letting go.

It takes every ounce of courage in your body to pull away, your lips lingering against his for a heartbeat longer than necessary, as if tethered by an invisible force. Slowly, you break the kiss, your breath shaky, heart racing. His forehead rests against yours for a moment, his eyes still half-closed, unaware of the words hanging on the edge of your lips.

You gently pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your fingers still laced in his hair, trembling slightly. His eyes search yours, soft and expectant, filled with something unspoken but unmistakable.

With a deep inhale, you let the words slip out, vulnerable and raw, barely louder than a whisper, but heavy with meaning.

“I love you.”

The world stands still as the words hang in the air, your heart pounding as you wait for the weight of what you’ve just said to settle between you.

And then he smiles like an idiot. And you’re joining him. 

“Did you say what I think you said? Did you say that you love me?" His voice is soft, teasing, as he presses his forehead against yours, capturing your lips with a few playful, quick kisses between his words. “Come on, say it again.”

You feel your heart flutter, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Frankie’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “I heard you say it. Now you can’t take it back,” he adds with a grin, pulling you tighter, his arms leaving no space between you.

You giggle, your hands pushing lightly against his shoulders, though he doesn’t budge. “Stop, that was really hard,” you huff, breathless, as though the words had stolen all the air from your lungs.

Frankie just shakes his head, his smile fading into something softer, more real, as the weight of the moment catches up with him. “I’ve thought about better places or times to tell you this, I wanted to wait until you were ready,” he whispers, his voice hushed with disbelief, eyes locking onto yours, “but I love you more than you’ll ever know. More than you’ll ever understand or dream. I love you.”

His thumb traces the curve of your cheekbone, a gentle, affectionate touch that sends shivers down your spine. The intensity in his gaze mirrors your own, both of you lost in this shared vulnerability, your hearts speaking in unison.

“I love you, too,” you breathe, the words falling effortlessly this time, as if they’ve always been waiting for this moment.

So, yeah. You sort of love your co-worker Francisco Morales. 

The sun is blinding—orange and yellow streams of light as it is forced to set along the horizon. It’s slow but noticeable, sinking into the land beyond what you can see.

The sun goes down in Texas once again. 

Frankie raises his cigarette, its glowing tip mirroring the fiery hues of the sunset.

His neighborhood is tranquil, lined with single-story homes and tree-bordered streets where autumn's touch is just around the corner. Children ride bikes, joggers and dog walkers pass by, and new parents push their baby strollers—a picturesque scene that feels meticulously arranged yet somehow distant. Frankie, too, feels out of place here.

"You got pretty worked up today—more than usual," you say softly.

Frankie lets out a dry chuckle, cigarette between his lips as he leans back on his elbows, squinting at the fading sun. "Yeah, maybe. You think I’m off right now?" He tilts his head, genuinely curious, as if searching for what’s changed.

You shrug, glancing at him with a fond smile. "I think that letter from your dad has you more rattled than you realize. I found it in your sock drawer this morning."

Frankie’s gaze drops to his lap, a flicker of shame crossing his face.

"I thought you said you were gonna toss it?" you muse gently, watching as his mind churns, cigarette hovering at his lips before he sighs deeply.

"You’re too observant," he smirks. "I don’t know why I haven’t crumpled, burned, or shredded it into pieces by now. I have every right to."

You rest a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing the tension there. "But you didn’t. Why?"

Frankie bites his lower lip nervously, glancing your way. "At the end of the apology letter, he asked to take me out for my birthday. Put down the time, place—everything. Said he’d wait for me."

Your expression softens, letting him know you’re here, really listening. "And you’re thinking about it?"

"Yeah… I guess so. But I don’t even know what I’d say. I’ve only seen him once or twice since I moved out. It’s been years. And when I do see him, I’m thirteen all over again, just yelling at him, so angry. I see his face, and it’s like a switch flips. And that’s not me. You know that’s not me," Frankie stammers, panic flickering in his eyes.

"I know," you whisper, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He pulls you closer, resting his head against yours as the weight of it all settles.

After a deep breath, Frankie gathers himself. "He used to bring out the worst in me. I don’t know if I still hate him as much. Time’s passed, maybe he’s changed. But I’m not holding my breath."

He’s an adult now, more guarded, wiser to the people who’ve hurt him. He’s fought through battles and traumas you don’t even know about. Yet, in his eyes, there’s a flicker of hope. Maybe his dad has turned a corner, maybe he’s cleaned up, seen his mistakes. But you know better than to trust in maybes.

And you’d protect him from being let down again.

"Do you want me to go with you?" you offer quietly.

Frankie’s eyes snap to yours, wide and searching.

"Okay," he says after a long pause. "Let’s do it."

[missadangel]

Little Bird in a Cage (Javier Peña x Reader)

Part 16: Pregnant

Gifs by jdmorganz - icegif

----------- All episodes here --------------

It was late evening when your father called.

He chose a very bad time, you'd just had after-dinner sex with Javi and it was amazing, you were still in bed, covered in sweat, cum, satisfaction, waiting for your breathing to settle.

To answer the phone, you sat on the bed, and had the longest phone call with him ever.

Javi slipped out of bed when he heard his voice on the phone, standing in front of the window with his back turned, lit a cigarette, yes, he had started smoking again recently, facing the truth that there really was such a thing as premarital stress.

Actually it wasn't the idea of marriage, you were both happy with to become husband and wife, to live together, but your father insisted that things should be a bit more his way.

Perhaps because he was a four-star minister and loves to give orders.

‘No, dad, of course that's not gonna happen!’ Javi turned his head and snickered at you, who looks and sounds like a little girl right now.

You frowned.

Getting married in Colombia wasn't an option and he didn't want it to be, the city you used to live in was still not safe, thanks to the drug cartels that still working tirelessly.

So you wanted to get married in Texas in a small wedding, but your father was angry that you didn't want a big ceremony. He also wanted it to be a cultural wedding, he wanted you to do all the Colombian customs, which made you angry, but it was very difficult to convince him.

When the phone call ended you hung up the receiver and sighed, did it really have to be so hard?

‘Dad's got me cornered,’ you said as you got out of bed and approached Javi.

He put out his cigarette and turned towards you. ‘Don't worry baby, he'll come round eventually.’

‘You think? He wants a big church wedding, plus with all the Colombian traditions,’ you sighed, “that's a lot of stress and I don't even want to think about the media, they'll want to cover a day like this,” you buried your head in his bare chest.

He wrapped his arms around you, ‘If that's what he wants,’ he murmured as he played with your hair. “Maybe we should do this.”

You lifted your head to look at him. ‘Would you really do that? Doesn't it bother you?’

He smiled, ‘Why should your traditions bother me? After all, you're going to be my wife at the end of the day, aren't you? Mrs. Peña?’ his lips rubbing your ear.

You giggled, it was so nice to hear that word from him. You raised your hand to check the diamond ring you wearing on your left finger. “Yes, I am.”

-----

Fortunately, Mexico and Colombia were very similar culturally. The language, the food, the dance, the wedding customs, and apparently even the fathers. As a Mexican-American, Chucho insisted on following Mexican customs, as did your father.

So you tried to convince them to have a bicultural wedding. Your father coming to Texas tomorrow to discuss the details and to meet your future father-in-law.

You had been feeling very tense and tired lately, and the wedding had been on your mind a lot. You had almost forgotten what day it was, so you were surprised after breakfast when Chucho changed the calendar page on the wall to the May.

Javi has been back from Washington for over two weeks. That meant your period should have started a week ago. And you'd never been this late before. Javi leaned across the table to you as you froze, fork in hand.

'What's wrong, why aren't you eating?

You smiled at him, 'Nothing, just,' avoiding eye contact, you looked down at your plate to eat the rest of your food. ‘Please don't worry anymore cariño, we'll talk about it together when your father comes.’

‘I know, Javi, can we go into town today?’

He finished his orange juice, got up from the table and came over and kissed the top of your head.

‘Of course we can, we have to do shopping anyway, Chucho is going to visit Andre today.’

Andre was in state care and Chucho wanted to adopt him, but the procedures taking time. Suddenly you felt excited thinking what a good grandad Chucho would be, but you didn't want to think about it until you were sure.

So you had to go to the pharmacy in town to buy a pregnancy test, you weren't sure how to do it without Javi noticing.

But it was impossible, he never wanted to leave you alone after what happened last time.

‘Every time I leave you alone something happens to you, wherever you're going, we’ll go together,’ he said as he parking the car.

That's why you decided to tell him, but it was a pain in the ass, the possibility of you being pregnant before the wedding and God forbid, your father finding that out. And the feeling that you were definitely not ready to be a mother yet.

Why is everything so complicated.

You stopped in front of the pharmacy, ‘Javi I'm -’

Just then, Javi's tía Sophia was approaching from down the street.

You both panicked, not only she has been bombarding you with questions since she heard about your engagement, but it would have been a disaster for her to see you with a pregnancy test in your hand.

‘Javi...’

He grabbed your hand. 'Fuck, let's run, baby,' he pulled you around the corner.

As you ran together, you looked at each other and laughed mischievously. After a short distance, Javi pulled you into the back of a store and you leaned against the wall to catch your breath. Standing right in front of you, he looked at the direction you ran from, panting.

'I think we're safe,' he smirked.

You gasped in relief, he put his hand on the wall next to your head, kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, you couldn't help it, it had become a habit to do that every time he kisses you.

But this was the middle of the street, people were walking by, looking at you and laughing, Javi pulled back, a mischievous look on his face.

'Now that we've given the town another rumor mill, shall we go home?'

You chuckled, "We're moving soon anyway, so fuck it.'

Javi laughed out loud, he couldn't help laughing every time you used foul language.

While the two of you were walking down the street, someone called your name and you turned around. It was Juan, he must have seen you passing by the shop.

'Oh hello, how are you? Javi, this is Juan,' you looked at him allusively.

Javi raised his eyebrows, then looked at him closely, this time frowning.

'How you doin?' they shook hands. You could tell right away that Javi didn't like him by the way he looked at him with a pursed lip.

'Nice to meet you," then he turned to you. "You left one of the paints you bought last time in the shop, I wanted to give it to you.' 

'Thank you,' you said with a smile. I haven't even started yet, it's been a busy week.’

'Yeah, I heard about all, you ok now?'

'Thanks, I'm fine.’

'Actually, since I bumped into you, I was wondering if I could ask you for something, I need some help with this painting I'm doing,' he pointed inside.

‘Sure,’ you went in quickly.

Javi put his hands on his waist, frowning. You looked at him and waved your hand, beckoning him.

Juan sat down in front of the painting and you sat down next to him.

Javi narrowed his eyes as he walked in, taking a quick look around, but his eyes were on you. Leaning against one of the shelves, he crossed his arms and watches you as you grabbed the brush, working on the painting.

Juan touched your hand as you showed him a few things on the painting with the brush. Javi tensed up, he didn't like another man touching your hand so easily, but he didn't want to be rude so he waited patiently, finally when you were done you stood up, but it was fast, suddenly you got dizzy and sat back in the chair. Juan put his arm around you. ‘Are you all right?’

That was too much, Javi pushed his arm away a little roughly. I'll take it from here, man,' he said and helped you to your feet. 'You okay, cariño?' he wrapped his arm around you this time.

You nodded, 'Yeah, just, my head is spinning, maybe because I'm hungry,' you put your hand on your head.

‘Come on, let's get something to eat,' he said as he led you out of the shop.

Looking over your shoulder at Juan, you waved goodbye, but you couldn't turn around, Javi's arm wouldn't let you.

---

The next day, the day your father arrived, you and Javi wanted to go to the airport to meet him, but since he was still a minister, there was a small official welcoming ceremony. So you went to the hotel to meet him in the embassy suites in Laredo, he was going to stay in the room reserved for him.

As soon as you saw him, you ran to hug him, you missed him so much. He wiped away your tears and scolded you for crying, then told you he had a surprise for you, and you were delighted to see Caroline and Dolores following close behind.

You and Caroline hugged and laughed. When Dolores pursed her lips you hugged her too, you really missed them so much.

You had dinner at the hotel restaurant and talking about everything. Javi and your father talked mostly about work, and you were annoyed that he still called him 'Agent Peña'.

"Dad, why don't you call Javi by his first name?'

'Well, hmm, Javi, I'll have to get used to that,' he frowned.

'Maybe in the future you can call him son,' you said with a grin, blinked at Javi.

Javi decided to take a sip of his drink instead of reacting.

'We'll see about that in time, missy,' he rolled his eyes at you.

Javi was no different, still calling your father sir. You smiled to yourself, sure he would call him by his first name later.

Everything was so new, and you believed that marriage would develop the relationship between the two families in time.

It had to be.

After dinner, while Javi and your father were still talking in the hotel lobby, you asked permission to go out with Caroline. Javi didn't want to be alone with your father, you could see it in his eyes, so he asked for permission to take you wherever you wanted to go, and fortunately for him, your father was tired and has long diplomatic phone calls to make, so he retired to his room. But you wanted to be alone with Caroline, so Javi dropped you off near the shops. He'd be back to pick you up later.

'I loved it here,' Caroline smiled as she looking around the shops.

'Caz, we need to get to a pharmacy first, help me,' you tugged at her arm.

Noticing pharmacy was very close.

'What's wrong?'

'I need a pregnancy test,' you whispered in her ear.

She opened her eyes wide. 'What? Shit, Is it really your test this time?

'Yeah, let's get the test, I have to do it now and make sure asap.'

You got the test and rushed back to the hotel, ran into Caroline and Dolores' room. You bought three, just to be sure.

And they were all positive.

'Dios mio!' Dolores' voice startled you, she has seen the tests when she entered the room.

'Shh,' you shushed her, your father's room was right next door, the last thing you needed was for him to hear.

'Oh my God, you're pregnant,' Caroline said as she hugged you happily. Then her smile faded, expression changed to worried. 'Oh my God, you're pregnant and you're getting married soon.'

'I know,' you mumbled.

'Cariño, don't worry,' Dolores sat down next to you and put her arm around you. 'It's nothing to be upset about. It's a gift from God.’

You didn't know how to react or what to think, of course it was a gift, but the timing was wrong, at least you thought so. You stood up and started pacing nervously.

‘How am I going to tell Javi? What about my dad? Will I be able to get into the wedding dress? We need to get married asap, before anyone finds out, and Javi was just starting his new position at work. Are we ready to be parents?’

Caroline grabbed you by the shoulders. ‘Honey, calm down, sit. Of course you're ready, don't worry, everything will be fine. And Javi will be so happy, believe me.’

‘You think so?’ You were getting more worried than happy. You didn't feel ready to be a mother, but you had to. You blamed the contraceptive pill you couldn't get from the pharmacy that day. But then you gave up, it was already done.

‘What kind of a mother am I going to be if I can't even take the stupid contraceptive pill in time?’

Caroline hugged you as you added sobs to your tears.

‘Come on, of course you'll be a great mom, but don't think about that now. Should I tell Javi or?’

‘No, I'll tell him, but I need to clear my head until he comes to pick me up.’

‘Okay, sure, if you need us we’ll be at lobby,’ Caroline gave you another hug and left the room with Dolores.

----

You opened your eyes with a sudden urge to pee.

Were you asleep?

This is very strange, you thought, remembering why, and took a deep breath. You were still alone in the room. You looked at your watch to check the time, you couldn't believe you had been asleep for two hours.

Javi should have been here by now, you quickly washed your face and left the room, feeling ready to tell him.

When you came into the lobby and you saw him, your heart started to race with excitement, but it wasn't new thing, you feel the same way every time you saw him. How could you love him more and more every day? But you did, and you were sure you would feel this way forever.

Caroline was the first to notice you, "Are you feeling better?

Yes," you said confidently.

Javi turned his head, got up and came to you.

'Are you okay? Caroline said you were tired, have you been walking a lot?' You blushed as you put your hands to your face, wondering how to say it.

Your father called you over, 'Honey, we've set the wedding date, come, sit down.'

'Your dad is thinking the end of the month, but I...'

'What? That late?' You interrupted Javi. 'Three weeks is a long time,' you sat down, pursing lips.

Your father frowned. 'That's a bit eager for a bride-to-be, don't you think, what's the rush?

Javi grinned as he sat down next to you and looked up at you, wondering what your answer would be.

'I, I just don't want to wait, waiting means more stress for me, that's why,'  Javi grabbed your hand when you sounded tearful.

"And I should become US citizen asap," looking at Javi, blinked at you.

"Yes you should," he mumbled.

There was silence for a while and Caroline moved closer to him.

'It's normal to be stressed because all the traditions will be fulfilled, sir, isn't there a chance that it could be a little earlier?'

Your father stood up and crossed his arms behind his back, it was his thinking pose. You looked over your shoulder at Caroline and thanked her with your lips, mouthing.

'I thought you'd be more stressed,' Javi whispered to you, 'so I'm actually the one who extended the time.'

'No, I'll tell you why when we're alone,' you whispered back.

Your father cleared his throat. 'Well, if you say so, next week, and we have to get ready asap, I arrange a planner.' his voice wasn't angry at all, you were surprised.

'Thanks, Dad," you said as you walked towards him wrapping your arms around. You wondered what his face would look like when you told him about your situation. But there was still time.

'I'll go to the reception venue with Pops tomorrow to book a date,' Javi said as he stood up.

You looked at your father in surprise. 'So the reception will be all Mexican, huh?'

He shrugged, 'Our traditions are very similar, honey, and our food will be served. And I wouldn't mind a mixture of cambia and salsa, would you?' He and Javi smiled at each other.

You felt as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. They had both agreed on this, it was a quiet relief.

----

On the way home, Javi noticed that you were quiet. You were still trying to figure out how to tell him, how he'd react. Would he be angry with you for not taking the pill, or would he be happy? Would he not look at you the way he used to? You thought about it all the way home, so you were surprised realizing you arrived home already. There were no lights on in the house, Chucho must still be in town. Javi opened your door and leaned in, his brown eyes locked with yours.

'Are you going to tell me what's going on? I'm starting to worry.'

'It's nothing to worry about actually,' you said with a smile. 'I was just thinking about your reaction and...'

He cut you off with a kiss and slipped you into his arms. You were almost out of breath.

'Maybe you need to relax, do you want me to comfort you?'

He kissed you again as he carried you inside, he was very good at it. He broke the kiss and laid you down on the couch and within seconds he was on top of you. He started kissing you again before you could even open your mouth, but you wanted to tell him right away. You broke the kiss and sat up on the couch. You cupped his chin in your hands.

'Javi wait a minute, I really need to say this.'

He pulled his face back a little, but he was still leaning against you, one arm resting on the couch and the other around your waist. His eyes locked with yours, you took a deep breath.

'I'm, I'm pregnant, Javi, there I said it,' you huffed.

He was silent for a moment, trying to process what he just heard, the silence was starting to make you nervous, but his lips curled into a half smile and he kissed you.

Then he pulled his head back and looked at your face, "You're sure, right?

'Three pregnancy tests, yes, I'm sure."

He laughed, his brown eyes sparkling with joy. 'That's great, baby, I don't know what to say, but that's more than great.'

'Really? I thought you'd be mad at me because it was so unexpected, but...'

He frowned. 'Mad? Don't be silly, you don't know how happy you've made me. I love you so fuckin much, you're the best thing that ever happened to me,' he wrapped his arms around you pressing you against his strong chest.

'I love you too, Javi. I love you so much.'

He loosened his arms to look at your face and then kissed you passionately. You weren't sure if it was the effect of this wonderful moment, but the sexual tension between you increased immediately. The deeper the kiss went, the more you wanted him.

As you pulled him closer with your arms wrapped around his neck, he slipped his hands under your dress to cup your hips. This gave you the opportunity to unbutton his shirt.

When you were both down to your underwear, he grabbed you by hips lifted you into his lap, you wrapped your legs around him. Without breaking the kiss he hurried into the room as your giggles echoed down the hall.

---

The next day, you and Javi had decided it would be a good idea to go to the gynecologist, so after breakfast you went down to the center of town. It was a small but busy clinic.

'Senorita Botero Llano?'

You stood up excitedly, Javi holding your hand and he was no different.

When you entered the doctor's room, she told you to lie down on the obstetric table. She set up the ultrasound machine and Javi stood right next to you, never letting go of your hand. You flinched as she put the lubricating jelly on your abdomen, then she started asking questions without looking at you as she gently presses the device against your tummy, moving it back and forth while checking the computer screen.

'When did you find out?'

'Two days ago.'

'According to the blood test, you're three weeks along, is this your first pregnancy?'

'Yes,' you said, looking at Javi who winked at you.

I mean, it's too early for us to see it here, but I can see the amniotic sac, if we zoom in a little bit, yes, there it is,' she said as he showed the unintelligible image on the screen.

Javi frowned, 'I don't see anything.'

The doctor laughed. 'It's only the size of a pinhead, it's an embryo, it will grow and develop.'

'Did you really expected to see a big baby?' you asked, laughing at him. Turned your head to check screen, 'It is so tiny.'

'It is, but we can hear its heartbeat,' the doctor said, saying something ordinary to her but surprising to you.

'Really?' you said excitedly, looking at Javi seeing him also excited.

'Sure, let's have a look,' the doctor turned a knob on the ultrasound machine to the right.

There was a small crackling sound, then a wheeze, then a heartbeat. A very fast heartbeat.

It was so beautiful.

The doctor looked at both of you. 'This is your baby's tiny heart saying 'hi'.'

You couldn't hold back your tears, it was an indescribable feeling, so beautiful, so mesmerizing, Javi wiped your tears and kissed you on your head.

There was not much to say at that moment, you kept listen.

'But it beats so fast," you said suddenly.

The doctor grinned, turned off the machine and turned to you. 'Honey, that's normal, newborns and even children have a faster heartbeat than adults.'

'Wow,' you murmured.

'Now I'm going to talk to you about a few things,' the doctor said.

Javi helped you to take off your hospital gown. Then you sat down on the couch across from the doctor's desk.

'You need to take the vitamins I prescribed regularly, you need to go to the emergency, if you'd have any bleeding, everything looks good now. The first three months are very important, please don't get tired and don't try to lift anything, stay away from stress, okay?'

You nodded.

'See, you have to stay out of trouble, best stay at home and don't go out,' Javi giggled.

You rolled your eyes. Then you remembered something that happened during sex yesterday.

'Is it normal for me to have breast tenderness, to want to go to the restroom all the time, and an increased libido?'

'Yes, it's all normal in the first trimester, as for sex, it won't harm the baby, there's no problem as long as it's not too rough.'

Your cheeks flushed. Javi looked at you out of the corner of his eye and grinned.

He was still snickering when you left the room.

I was worried that she would forbid sex. Luckily, she didn't,' whispering into your ear.

You elbowed him in the stomach, 'Cabrón.'

----

The next evening, your father came to his house to meet Chucho. 

After dinner, as you were discussing the wedding details, things got tense at times. They were talking so fervently even they didn't notice when you never touched the beer or kept going to the bathroom to throw up because of the smell of the food.

Javi kept an eye on you and tried to calm his father at the same time.

You and Javi wanted to tell them after the wedding, it was gonna be better thing to do.

When you went to the kitchen to get a drink of water -becasue you were thirsty as hell-, Javi came behind you.

"Did you take the vitamin? Didn't she give you medicine to stop you vomiting?" he asked in low tone.

"Don't worry, it's just the smell of meat. I feel better now."

"Whatever!"

You startled when you heard your fathers loud voice.

"Then so be it!"

You both turned your heads to look at those grumpy men in the living room.

"Thanks for having my daughter in your house all this time and taking care of her, by the way," your father looked away angrily.

"She's my daughter too, of course," Chucho said, also looking away, frowning.

"Daughter-in-law, you mean?"

"Whatever it is," Chucho murmured something in Spanish but mexican accent, probably cursing him.

You looked at Javi with a confused face, "Do you think they are insulting each other or thanking each other?"

Javi laughed. "Both."

At the end, everything worked out, it was nice that they were on the same side, even if they didn't like each other much. Your father excused himself when it got late and then came to you.

"You're coming with me, señorita."

"What? Why?"

"Because the wedding is in four days and you two shouldn't stay in the same house or should I say room. It's bad luck."

"Dad, this is ridiculous, no way I'm leaving!" your hormones made you angrier so your voice was loud. Javi grabbed your shoulder and tried to calm you down.

"Sir, let her stay tonight, we're flying to Washington tomorrow anyway, will check the house and buy furnitures and stuff. I'll take her to the hotel when we return."

It was true, Javi's buddy Steve has found a house for you in the same neighborhood so he and his wife has invited you over for dinner tomorrow.

Since there was no time left, you liked the idea.

"Okay then, but the night before the wedding you should definitely stay apart. "

"You're too superstitious for a minister," Chucho grumbled.

"Let's just say I'm traditional," he said, then turned to you. "I almost forgot, you need to find a godfather and a godmother."

"Yeah, right," you mumbled. Javi looked at you, "Los Padrinos and Madrinas," you explained.

In Colombian wedding traditions, there is no best man or maid of honor. Instead, the couple chooses a godmother and a godfather, and it can be anyone they want. In Mexican weddings, the couple chooses a padrino and a madrina, which means the same thing.

That's why, since neither of you had a very large family or were very close to them, Javi chose Steve as the padrino and you chose Caroline as the madrina.

All that was left was to tell them, and it has to be asap, the wedding was very near.

[theshypinkflower]

BUT THATS JUST A THEORY-

Okay as much as I love TPOF and BTD I refuse to believe that the entire game takes place within CANADA (apart from obvi derek’s route)

This theory originated from the bar Vincent’s route take place in is named Route 66

Now I know it’s a fictional bar in a fictional game but let’s be realistic for a second-

Why the hell would CANADA have a bar named ROUTE 66? (For all my international friends Route 66 was basically a highway that went through some southern states)

If anything it would make sense for one of the many states that the original Route 66 cuts through to have a bar named Route 66, namely Texas because of its massive amount of land

BUT, of Vincent’s bar is in Texas, that would imply that the rest of the games have to take place in Texas

When we finally get to TPOF the Texas theory becomes wayyyyy more plausible

In Derek’s route we are shown to be in a desert area, last time I checked Canada has no deserts whatsoever ever so that means Derek had to have crossed borders and to get there

Now we could pull a “Derek is rich he probably has a helicopter or something”, since we know how Derek’s dad is HIGHLY abusive, I really doubt he’d let his son use a helicopter to go on his yearly vacation

Especially since a light sized helicopter can only hold roughly 40 gallons of fuel, I say light helicopter because why would Derek even need a bigger one! That much fuel would not be enough to make the journey from even Canada to Mexico (2,252 miles) without making multiple stops to get fuel. And even if Derek did use that much fuel, he wouldn’t do it again because then Salvatore (Mr. Goffard) can’t write off the fuel expensive as a business expense and it would make a sizable dent in his wallet. And no, Derek could not use a private jet because he’s not a goddamn celebrity, he most likely wouldn’t even own one he’d just fly first class. And the jet would still have be in an airport and that would still mean MC HAVING A PASSPORT. Going by car isn’t that plausible, wherever Derek is going will have to cut into the United States, and the United States is ridiculously strict on border control. According to Quora, if you don’t have a passport you still need an ID and a birth certificate. Which if we’re kidnapped WE WOULDNT HAVE A BIRTH CERTIFICATE. Meaning Fox has to operate IN the United States, better yet, TEXAS.

Texas is a huge state that has multiple terrains in it. Derek wouldn’t even be that far from his nearest desert to take is yearly trip. The trip doesn’t even HAVE to take place in Texas, in take place in New Mexico for crying out loud

But operating in Texas also makes wayyyyy more sense for Mason

A drive from Texas to roughly Colorado (which is where personally I believe the route takes place judging by the trees and bears) is 12 hours nonstop. If MC is heavily drugged out before leaving the auction, 12 hours is he perfect amount of time for them to wake up naturally across state lines. Celia’s route also doesn’t have to take place in Texas, but I imagine it’d be close enough to it. Texas is the hugest state in the US so it makes sense Fox would operate there, LET ALONE THE ENTIRE STORYLINE TAKE PLACE THERE. There’s tons of land Fox could set up his operations at, plenty of wealthy people who can afford to buy his merchandise, and even more people he can snatch off the street to use for auctions and streams.

It also makes sense that BTD would take place in Texas since (this is another theory for maybe another time) Lawrence is able to grow the opium poppies he uses in zone 8 (the growing zone for the Easstern side of Texas).

Also I know about the lore that Vincent is Akira, but frankly that plot makes NO SENSE whatsoever ever and clearly EP used it so he could ship Vincent(Akira) and Sano (NASTY)

I’d like to also point out that Strade is German (no surprise there), Texas has had German history, in-fact there’s plenty of German residents still in Texas. So whether strade was drawn to moving to the United States when he was younger, or straight up was born in Texas he wouldn’t be as much of an outlier due to Texas’s German history

[capypub]

Without Warning - Mafia!Joel Miller Scene 4

Mafia!Joel Miller x Original Female Character

Rating: M (sex, drugs, guns, the usual)

Minors DNI. 18+ Content

Summary: Here's your smut and drug fix you heathens (It's me, I'm the heathen) lmao...

Scene 1 Scene 2 Scene 3

The baggie had fallen out of Indi’s bag by accident, no bigger than a cotton ball. Joel had taken her backpack after picking her up from class one evening. He’d tossed it in the backseat of his truck without much thought. One of the front pockets must have been open because he heard the clatter of pens and other items hit the seat. 

“Ah, fuck,” he muttered under his breath, leaning over to gather her stuff while she connected her phone to the car’s bluetooth. 

“Everything okay, babe?” she asked, scrolling through her Spotify, after hearing him huff from behind her headrest. 

“All good, baby girl,” he said, stuffing the few pens and bobby pins back in the pocket. 

The plastic baggie reflected off the light, the familiar green buds inside peaking his curiosity. She had never mentioned that she smoked before. Tapping her on her shoulder from the back seat, Joel held the baggie in his open palm to her.

“What’s this doin’ in here?” he asked with a smirk, amused and a little surprised with her.

“Oh,” she murmured, her eyes going wide as she visibly tensed under his gaze.

“Not so innocent, huh, darlin’?” he continued to tease her, pulling out one of the larger buds and sniffing it, his face crinkling slightly at the smell, “This shit gettin’ you high?” he questioned in disbelief. 

“Well until Texas gets their shit together, it’s the best I can do,” she said defensively, reaching to grab the baggie from him.

“No, baby girl,” Joel chuckled with a shake of his head, “This is dirt weed, I can tell just by lookin’ at it. I’ve seen high schoolers deal better shit than this.”

“I’m sorry, since when were you a marijuana connoisseur?” she sassed him while attempting a second time to grab the contents from his hand. 

He smirked, always getting a little turned on when she got fiery with him. It wasn’t often in their short relationship, but the few times she did get feisty, the urge to pin her down and fuck the attitude out of her flooded his thoughts. When that day came where he could indulge in this primal desire, he knew he would thoroughly enjoy earning her submission. 

“Been smokin’ since before you were born, baby,” he scoffed, crumpling the baggie in his large hand and tossing it out of the car.

“What the hell, Joel?” she scoffed, her mouth open slightly as she stared at him, shocked and obviously a little annoyed. 

“I can’t keep lettin’ you smoke that trash, darlin’,” he insisted, finally getting out of the backseat, coming around to the other side to get behind the wheel, “I’ve got some good shit back home, we could order pizza if you get hungry and put on a movie, hm?” he suggested.

“Home?” she repeated, sounding confused. “You mean your place?” she clarified.

He nodded, starting the truck and pulling out of the campus parking lot. “That a problem?” he asked, seeing how she hadn’t answered, a little concerned by her hesitation.

“I’ve never been to your house…” she stated softly. 

When he thought about it, she was right. They always went out somewhere or to her apartment. Joel liked her place, it was comfortable, homy, very much her and he loved being surrounded by it all. Sure, he probably should have brought her over to his place a long time ago, given the amount of time they’ve spent together, but part of him didn’t want to bring her too close to his world. His men had access to his house, he kept security posted at the gate, and sometimes even handled business in the basement. 

“I don’t spend much time there either, the guys always makin’ too much damn noise,” he said, trying to be casual about the whole thing, but his voice sounded a little strained and anxious.

“The guys that work for you?” she questioned, receiving a nod from him as he turned onto the highway, “They hang out at your place a lot?” 

“Uh,” he hesitated, biting in the inside of his cheek, “Yeah, they’re in and out, the only reason I got somethin’ a lil’ bigger is for when the jobs are long and they need somewhere to crash,” he explained with a shrug.

“I thought you built storage units or something?”

He cleared his throat awkwardly, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “Among other things, yeah…” 

“I think that’s great,” she said, reaching across to squeeze his thigh affectionately, “Not many bosses care about their employees enough to open their own doors to them.”

Again, he cleared his throat, feeling his whole body warming up as he dug himself deeper into a hole he’d eventually have to fill. He didn’t like lying to her, but he also wasn’t ready to tell her the extent of his business, hoping to keep her in this little bubble of happiness with him for a little longer. 

Taking her hand, he brought it up to lips, kissing her knuckles softly as he inhaled her familiar scent. She didn’t ask him anymore about the house, thankfully. They drive in a comfortable silence, the lull of her music providing a relaxing background noise. Eventually, Joel pulled up to the familiar iron gates, rolling down his window. 

“Evenin’, boss man,” one of the men at the gate greeted them as he approached the driver's side window. 

“John,” Joel greeted with a stiff nod, thankful that John kept his weapon tucked in his belt, hidden by his jacket, “Anyone inside right now?” he asked, praying to whatever higher being out there that his house was empty tonight. 

“Yeah, Tess and Xavier showed up a couple hours ago, been working in the office,” he shrugged.

Joel internally swore. “Alright, take it easy, man,” he said, his jaw clenched as the gates opened and he proceeded up the long driveway to his home.

“You have security?” Indi questioned, looking simultaneously impressed and surprised. 

He gave a simple “mhm” in response, still trying to figure out how to avoid Tess if necessary. She wouldn’t say anything, but who knows what kind of crap her and X left laying around. 

“This is your house?” she gasped, staring in awe as the white three story, 7,898 square foot building came into view, “Joel, we’ve been watching movies on my shitty fifty inch when you have all this!”

He chuckled at that. “Projector in the theater room’s broken, plus I like being at your place more,” he explained.

She didn’t need to know that the projector had to be replaced because one of his guys put a bullet in the screen after the last UFC fight. 

“It’s so…quiet,” she observed once he’d parked at the front door, not bothering to park his truck in the garage, “I love all the nature,” she added as he helped her out, going to grab her backpack as she approached the front door, still looking at the thicket of trees surrounding the house. 

He’d just shut the back door of his truck when he heard the front door open. Indi stepped back as a woman stepped out, a gun in one hand and a manilla folder in the other.

“Who the hell are you?” she demanded, a hard stare focussed on Indi.

“Easy, Tess, she’s with me,” Joel said, taking the stairs two at a time to stand between Tess and his girl.

Ignoring him, the redhead continued to openly scrutinize Indi with her cold glare and lips set in a thin line. Joel took a step forward, sending Tess a warning look as he cleared his throat. He felt Indi grip the sleeve of his jacket from behind him, triggering that primal urge to protect. 

“Whatever,” Tess finally muttered with a roll of her eyes, “I’m heading to Laredo to clean up Eric’s mess,” she added, moving around them to the all black Sedan that pulled up beside Joel’s truck during the confrontation. 

“Keep me updated,” Joel called after her with a shake of his head. 

Once they were gone, Joel pressed his palm in the curve of Indi’s back, gently guiding her inside. She didn’t say anything about Tess, too distracted by the glamor of the foyer flanked by two curving staircases and the giant crystal chandelier above them.

“You must be a really good contractor,” she commented, making him laugh as they made their way to the kitchen.

“Suppose so,” he said with a chuckle, guiding her to sit at the kitchen island, setting her backpack on the counter next to her, “Want something to drink? Hungry?” he asked, going to the fridge and pulling out two beers.

She accepted his offer, taking the opened bottle in one hand and Joel’s in the other as he led her through the house to the second floor where his office was located. She marveled at the luxury of everything, her head on a constant swivel as she tried to take it all in. Joel intentionally walked a little slower through the halls, indulging her in her curiosity by pointing out certain rooms. 

“So…does Tess work for you?” she asked, settling into the leather couch in his office as he rummaged around his desk for his stash.

“Uh, yeah, she’s, um…oversees supplies and stuff,” he said, pulling out a wooden box and setting it on the large desk.

“Is she always…like that?”

He tried to hold back his laugh, but failed miserably. “Yeah, she’s usually like that, not great at parties, but keeps these boys in line.”

Joel gathered what he needed, setting the box back in its original place before leading her outside to the second-story covered patio at the back of the house. The lights around the pool and jacuzzi were on below them, the trickling of the faux waterfall lining the jacuzzi provided a comfortable background noise.

“This is beautiful, Joel,” she murmured as they sat on a swinging bench, facing the backyard which consisted of an epic view of the greenbelt and the lake nearby, a few houses breaking the treeline around his property. 

“Yeah, probably one of my favorite parts of the house, this view,” he agreed, pulling out a five inch glass pipe and a grinder. 

She watched as he loaded the pipe, the smell of this strain much stronger than her own as he packed the bowl with precision. Pulling a lighter from his jean pocket, he offered both items to her. With a shy smile, she accepted it, setting her beer down and bringing the pipe to her lips. Joel was drawn to how her lips curved around the glass, shifting in his seat as he thought about what her lips would look like wrapped around his cock. 

“Fucking hell,” Indi said, coughing harshly after her first hit, reaching for her beer to ease the burn. 

She handed the pipe and lighter back, downing half her bottle as she tried to control her coughing fit. Joel couldn’t help but smirk, smoothly taking a hit himself, blowing the smoke away from her. 

Once she had regained her composure, she settled comfortably beside him, curling up under his arm, leaning into the side of his body as they passed the pipe back and forth. She started to giggle halfway through their second round, her hands starting to wander as Joel emptied the ashes from the bowl. 

“Whatcha doin’ there, baby girl?” he asked with a smirk, leaving the pipe next to his beer as he watched her fingers inch higher up his leg. 

“Just want to feel you,” she murmured, nuzzling her face into his neck, “that is some really, really, good shit Joel,” she added, her eyelids drooped slightly as she looked up at him.

“Feelin’ good, darlin’?” he asked, his own body much more relaxed and itching to touch her.

“Very good,” she agreed, closing her eyes slowly as he laced his fingers into her hair, gripping the back of her neck and pulling her closer for a slow kiss.

While Joel usually set the pace, she must have been feeling brave because she easily climbed into his lap, unprompted, her legs settling on either side of his hips as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeper, hungrier. 

“Fuck, baby girl,” he groaned as she began to grind into his lap, slow movements that had him hard almost instantly. 

“Have I ever told you that smoking makes me really horny sometimes?” she asked, her voice a little husky, a little breathless as she nipped his earlobe. 

“No, b-but- fuck- I’ll keep that in mind,” he said as she kissed on his neck, her hands moving up and down along his chest.

All Joel could do was hold onto her, let her work herself up on him as he enjoyed her little show. He held her hips tightly, his fingers slipping under the hem of her top to graze the skin of her sides, reveling in how soft and small she felt against him. 

She brought her mouth to his again, his head tilted back as he took in the red tint of her half-lidded eyes, the lazy smile and mussed hair from his earlier grip on her radiating temptation. She was a goddess, absolutely ethereal on top of him. When she began to suck and nip on his lower lip, he almost lost it, groaning heavily and pulling her tighter against him. 

He lifted her up with ease, never breaking away from her sweet kiss. She gripped his shoulders, giggling against his mouth as he laid her out on the swinging bench, keeping it still with one foot placed on the ground, using his other leg to kneel and balance between her knees. 

Caging her in with his body, he leaned over her, feeling her chest against his own, one of her legs raising to hook on his hip, her heat pressed dangerously close to his growing erection. She was making these pretty noises as he tasted her skin, nipped at her ear, and squeezed her sides. 

“Joel,” she whined, “please.” 

“I got you, baby girl,” he muttered into the crook of her neck, “I’ll take care of you,” he groaned, feeling her nails dig into his forearm. 

He was able to inch her top a little further up, exposing her torso to him. Repositioning himself lower on her body, he kissed at the exposed skin, pushing the material further up as he traced patterns with his tongue up her stomach and between her breasts. 

“Can I take this off, darlin’?” he murmured against her ribcage, looking up through his lashes to see her watching him as she bit her lower lip, suppressing as much noise as she could when she nodded in agreement.

“Need to hear it, baby girl, use your words,” he insisted, running his rough hands down her sides, gripping her hips and pulling her tighter against his covered cock. 

“Yes,” she sighed, sounding absolutely wrecked already, “Yes, Joel, please,” she begged, blindly grabbing at his shirt to try and pull him to her. 

“That’s a good girl,” he praised her softly, feeling her thighs clench at the term, filing away that little reaction in his brain for later. 

She sat up slightly, just enough for him to lift her top over her head and drop it on the ground. He was instantly mouthing at her covered breasts, pushing one shoulder strap down to taste her skin, his other hand squeezing and kneading the other cup. 

“D-do you want to show me, hmph, your bedroom?” she asked, breathless and needy under him.

“Anything you want, sugar,” he agreed, easily lifting her up into his arms and carrying her back into the house. 

They slowly made their way through the hallways, Joel pressing her into every flat surface he could find to rut against her, kiss her senseless and feel any part of her body he could as he navigated the dimly lit hallways.

Once inside his room, he deposited her on the bed, immediately pulling his jacket and shirt off, throwing it on the ground with enough force for a low “thump” to echo in the room. Indi looked up at him, propped up on her elbows, biting her lip.

“Fuck, baby, you look so good right now,” he groaned, quickly working at his belt buckle and zipper, taking his gun from the back of his pants and setting it on the bedside table.

“Let me,” she insisted, getting on her knees and reaching over to him, her smaller hands slowly pulling his zipper down, her fingers grazing his cock in the process, earning another deep groan from him. She tried to use her mouth on him, but he had other plans. 

He had her pinned down the bed in seconds, slipping her jeans off, before rutting against her panties with his pants halfway down his legs, too worked up to bother getting them off all the way right now. She made such pretty noises for him, her hands wandering his exposed chest and arms as he removed the last of her clothes. 

“You’re fuckin’ soaked for me already,” he growled, his fingers rubbing tight circles on her clit.

“Yes, fuck, ‘s so good,” she moaned, her hand gripping his wrist tightly as she tried to move her hips. 

“Yeah, just like that, darlin’, so fuckin’ pretty,” he groaned, slipping a finger into her while rubbing at her sex faster, his mouth attaching to her nipple, leaving her a moaning mess. 

Joel added another finger, kissing her hungrily as she moaned into his mouth at the stretch. His other hand was holding her leg down by her thigh, keeping her spread for him to play with. 

“Oh! Just like that, fuck, so good, baby,” she whined, head thrown back as she rutted up into his hand wildly. 

He couldn’t help the groan that rumbled in his chest. His cock twitched at the term, something about the sweetness of it mixed with the filthy things he was doing with her body was a delicious concoction that had him drunk on her. 

“Gonna come for me, baby girl? Can feel you squeezin’ m’ fingers,” he growled against her neck, biting down on the curve connecting her neck and shoulder, sucking a mark over the indent his teeth left. 

She cried out his name when she came, her body convulsing beautifully under him. Working her through it, he slowed his movements until she went quiet and then brought his fingers to his lips, holding her titillating gaze as he sucked the essence from his fingers slowly. She bit her lip, reaching out to him. Taking her hand, he brought it to his shoulder, fully kneeling on the bed now and tossing her a little higher up until her head hit the pillows.

He climbed over her, pushing her thighs further apart, feeling her preen as he kissed up her body from her core, over her breasts and along her neck. The look in her eyes was absolutely salacious as she pushed herself up to meet his mouth, licking any remnants of herself from his lips lewdly. Joel moaned against her mouth, feeling her much smaller hand stroke his throbbing cock. 

“You’re so big,” she panted against his mouth, still recovering from her first orgasm.

“Just relax, baby girl,” he said soothingly, easing her to lay back down. 

With one hand over the edge of the pillow beside her head to hold himself up, Joel guided the head of his cock through her folds, grunting when it caught at her entrance. He teased her for a moment, rubbing at her clit and through her folds until she was wiggling her hips shamelessly in an attempt to get him inside. 

“Stay still, sweetheart, I got you,” he groaned, finally giving in to what they both wanted.

He eased himself in slowly, resisting the urge to spear her and fuck her savagley, to ride on the primal high that their relationship had been building low in his stomach. Perhaps another night. 

“More…please,” she whined, gripping his shoulder as she tried to pull him closer, her voice quivering as she was overwhelmed by everything that was Joel.

“Look at you, baby girl, usin’ your manners,” he teased through his lusty haze, smirking down as he inched a little deeper, “That’s a good girl…” he groaned once he was fully inside, dropping onto his forearms to rut into her, feeling her whole body pressed under him, her nipples taught against his chest, “...my good girl,” he added, almost like he was talking to himself as he closed his eyes and lost himself in everything that was her.

He fisted the sheets, his pace building as his pleasure rose. Fuck, those sounds she made would be the death of him. She was squeezing him so tight too, he didn’t know how long he’d actually last. Plus the effects of their earlier smoke session made everything feel heightened. Her nails dug into his back as he thrusted harder, the slight sting mixed with how good she felt clenching on his dick was an addicted combination he’d come to learn. 

“Fuckin’ hell, baby, feel so good, so damn perfect,” he grunted against her neck, knowing he was absolutely done for when it came to this girl. 

“I’m so close, Joel, yeah, yeah, like that,” she panted, bringing his mouth to hers for a wet, messy kiss, her eyes squeezed shut blissfully. 

Something cold against his knuckle briefly distracted him. With his mouth still against hers, his eyes drifted to the side of her, noticing the butt of a gun poking out from under his pillow. Shit. He jerked back slightly, making a move to grab the pistol. She noticed his sudden change, opening her eyes slightly to look up at him, trying to follow his gaze directed to the side of her. He panicked momentarily. 

“Look at me, baby girl,” Joel said quickly, pushing himself up on his knees so he could use his free hand to collar her throat and keep her head forward, “Look at me while I fuck you,” he added, noticing how she clenched around his cock at his words. 

When that small wicked smile graced her lips as he squeezed the sides of her throat, he almost lost it. Tucking the gun back under the pillow as subtly as possible, he used his hold on her throat to lift her up and turn their bodies diagonal to the bed, gripping the edge for leverage as he continued to thrust into her. 

She came hard on his cock, her walls pulsing around him, as she moaned his name, spurring on his own release which he shot all across her chest and stomach with a deep whine. They were both breathing heavily, their bodies coated in sweat and each other’s release. Joel could feel her juices along his thighs, a sense of pride and satisfaction sprouting in his chest as he caught his breath.

Indi smiled softly, her mind completely blank as she floated in this post-sex haze, her body tingling, exhausted and thoroughly satisfied. Joel laid next to her on his side, pulling her against his sticky body, propping her head up with his forearm. She sighed happily as he brushed some hair from her face, leaning down to kiss her softly. 

“Did so good for me, baby girl,” he murmured against her lips, stroking her cheek with equal softness. 

After they had recovered, Joel invited her to shower with him. He took her hand, leading her into the en suite bathroom, just as luxurious as the rest of his house with a steam shower, full-size tub, dual vanity and private commode room. 

Joel started the shower, testing the water before guiding her in. When he didn’t immediately follow after her, she turned around, reaching for him. She was feeling especially needy after he’d just fucked her stupid, her mind still floating in a slight orgasmic haze as the high from the cannabis slowly began to fade. 

“Just gettin’ you somethin’ to wear, baby girl, I’ll be right back,” he said, pulling her towards him for a short kiss before leaving her alone under the hot stream. 

She didn’t think much of it when Joel stepped back into the bedroom. He came back almost immediately, crossing the room to reveal a walk-in closet. Setting some clothes out for both of them, he returned to his girl, biting back an appreciative growl as he watched droplets of water stream down her naked body. 

“Get my back?” she asked sweetly over her shoulder, offering him his body wash and one of the washcloths she’d taken from the shelf next to the shower.

He took his time washing her, feeling every dip and curve of her body as she stood still and allowed him to explore. By the time he was done, he was already hard again. She smirked, noticing his stiff cock when she turned around. He didn’t intend on pushing her for more, figuring she must be tired after everything. 

He didn’t resist though when she pushed him back against the wall, out of the stream, and got on her knees. He definitely didn’t resist when she took him in her mouth, working his length with her hand as she sucked him off. Of course he didn’t last long, the combination of how fucking gorgeous she looked, naked, wet, and mouth full of his cock mixed with how good her little mouth was working him had him coming embarrassingly fast. She didn’t seem to mind though, looking almost pleased as she pulled him back under the stream to wash his body. 

They both passed out in bed after sharing another bowl on Joel’s balcony. She was beautiful under the low light, hair wet, wearing one of his shirts and her panties. He couldn’t remember the last time he fell asleep so easily, with her tucked into his side, her head on his chest and arm secured tightly across his stomach. 

Of course, the peaceful sleep couldn’t last long. He jerked awake to the sound of his phone vibrating on the table next to him. He reached over, making sure not to jostle his girl who was still curled up on his chest. Glaring blearily at the bright screen, he saw that it was just past three in the morning. 

“This better be fuckin’ good,” he grumbled into the receiver to whichever one of his guys decided to wake him up. 

“Uh, Joel, we got a problem, man,” Ethan, one of his runners, said frantically.

He could tell he was driving by the sound of tires over gravel in the background. There were other voices too, just as frantic, mixed with a few grunts and groans of pain. 

“What problem?” Joel demanded, his voice hard as he prepared for bad news.

“Uh, we got jumped after checking one of the safe houses,” Ethan said, a car horn screeching past somewhere in the background. 

“Where the fuck are you?” Joel asked, speaking louder than he intended, glancing down at Indi to make sure she didn’t wake up.

“Pullin’ up right now to your place, ah shit, get him inside!” Ethan said, talking to whoever else was with him.

“Ethan!” Joel snapped, flinching again at the volume of his voice, “Ethan, you better tell me what the fuck is going on,” he threatened softly, even his whisper sounding dangerous over the line. 

“G-get ‘im on the pool table, fuck, I don’t know man!” Ethan said, his voice sounding distant like he had the phone at his side. 

Joel could hear the commotion downstairs, boots moving across the floor, chairs scraping, doors slamming. He hung up, throwing his phone on the ground in frustration before easing out of Indi’s grasp. He really didn’t want to leave her, especially to clean up some stupid mess, but he also couldn’t have those idiots downstairs making all this noise and potentially waking her up to who knows what. 

With a frustrated huff, he pulled his sweatpants and a t-shirt, making his way downstairs with his 9mm loaded and ready. She hadn’t woken up yet, simply turning over in her sleep to the other side.

“Joel!” Ethan called, rushing up to him, blocking him from entering the game room.

“What the fuck, man? Who’s blood is all over my goddamn floor?” Joel snapped, looking across the marble floor and the streaks of red. 

“Joel, relax, man, uh…we- we-,” Ethan stammered, only frustrating him more.

He pushed past the smaller man, going over to the group surrounding his pool table, noticing how the splatters of blood became larger. The men glanced at him nervously, at least the ones who weren’t frantically moving over whoever was on the blue felt. 

“Hey, big brother, sorry ‘bout the mess,” Tommy said, looking pale and shaky as he tried to smile at Joel from where he was laid out. 

“T-Tommy…?”

Scene 5

[rhapsodynew]

#Fun facts from the history of rock music

How to spoil people's mood

In 1968, the Rolling Stones - eternal competitors of the Beatles - released the song Street Fighting Man, which became a hit. They considered the song a breakthrough, and threw a party about it, where they came, including John Lennon and Paul McCartney

Paul discreetly handed me the record and said: "Let's see how you like our new record, Tony." I quickly put the CD into the audio system, and the song "Hey Jude" started playing in the club. Then I turned the disc over to the other side and we heard John Lennon's voice singing "Revolution". When we listened to everything, I noticed that Mick looked annoyed. The Beatles were one step ahead again

- says Tony Sanchez in his book "I was a Rolling Stones drag Dealer")

The song was written by Paul McCartney to support John Lennon's son, who was worried about his parents' divorce. "Hey Jude" bypassed the creation of stones and lasted 9 weeks on the American chart, thereby setting a record

Why do you need to know the roots of the symbols that you adopt

On December 3, 1983, Billy Idol released his second studio album Rebel Yell. His first record was relatively successful, but Rebel Yell was an explosion: the album sold 8 million copies, rose to number 6 on Billboard and entered the "100 best rock albums of all time" according to Classic Rock magazine. And there is a catch in the most prominent place of the record

Rebel Yell translates as "Rebel Cry". Billy borrowed the phrase from the Rebel Yell brand of bourbon, which he once drank with musicians from the Rolling Stones. Bourbon, in turn, was named after the battle cry of the Confederates

As it is now customary to say - everything is not so clear, but nevertheless - in popular culture, the image of the Confederates is the image of the southern slave-owning American states, which did not want to abandon this very slavery, and therefore staged a civil war, which they lost. And it is unlikely that Billy Idol, being a punk (although punks accuse him of incorruptibility), would associate himself with such a symbol if he knew its roots)

How to work in the same team for 55 years and not go crazy

The blues-rock band

ZZ Top

is pretty much the face of Texas - men in cowboy hats and old American cars playing masculine, heavy but not too heavy music

By 2014, the band had sold 50 million albums, entered the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame 10 years before, and has existed unchanged since its founding in 1969 (not counting bassist Dusty Hill, who died in 2021). That's what the founder of the band Billy Gibbons said about it:

“God, we don't break up for longer than many marriages last. I'll tell you a secret, and it's very simple, just two words: different (tour) buses”

Rock music is saturated with drugs. But do you know how much?

In 1975, the band Hawkwind with Lemmy Kilmister in the line-up went on tour in the United States in support of their album Warrior On The Edge Of Time, but Lemmy was arrested at customs for drug trafficking and sent to prison. The band's managers managed to release him on bail, but after Lemmy played the concerts, he was fired. Lemmy later repeatedly claimed that the arrest was just a convenient excuse for the rest of the band to finally get rid of him - because by 1975 the line-up had finally split into two drug camps: amphetamine and psychedelic—and Lemmy said that in fact he was fired for "using the wrong drugs")

After his dismissal, Lemmy created his own band - the legendary Motörhead (in slang, an amphetamine addict), which became one of the main hard rock bands in Britain and the world, in which he played until his death in 2015, having completely played a European tour that ended 20 days before his death

Why is there so much noise around the Oasis revival?

Here are a couple of facts for you:

● In 1996, the band gave a concert for 250,000 people. Tickets sold out in less than a day, in total 2.5 million people tried to buy tickets - about 5% of the UK population at that time

● The band entered the Guinness Book of Records for the longest stay in the top ten of the British hit parade in history

● On August 30, 2024, on the occasion of the reunion, Oasis released the anniversary edition of their debut album Definitely Maybe, and a week later it reached number one in the UK chart (30 years after its release, for a moment). Two more albums took 3rd and 4th places and 3 more albums entered the top 100

With all this success, Liam and Noel Gallagher, the founders of Oasis, were normal such limitless people: one day they went to perform in the Netherlands, on the way they caused a row on the ferry, and they were not allowed to enter the Netherlands. And during the American tour, they overdid it with illegal substances, and when at the concert the staff mistakenly put them different set lists, they performed different songs at the same time and did not notice it. After this disastrous performance, Noel went to Melissa Lim, his friend, so that she would morally support him after such a disgrace. They talked all night, after which the song Talk Tonight was born, and later, under its influence, my favorite song of the band - Morning Glory

The brothers also constantly feuded, but this was also their fuel: at some point, Liam began to periodically not go on stage at concerts as a sign of protest. And Noel, in order not to let the audience down, took vocal lessons and began singing instead of Liam)

The reunion of the brothers is a hope for fans to see them at a concert together (which was rare even before their quarrel and breakup in 2009) and hear new material, which, according to them, from the same 2009, they have There's a lot left

Or how the first rock and roll song appeared

One day, in 1951, someone dropped an amplifier belonging to the Kings Of Rhythm band, and the sound from it began to come out with distortion. But the producer of the band did not repair it because he saw a perspective in such a deformed guitar sound, and the song "Rocket 88" was recorded with it

The essence of the effect was a specific compression of the upper part of the sound wave. From 2024, it's hard to believe when listening to the track, but it was the first conscious move towards heavier sound, so "Rocket 88" is considered the first rock and roll song (what the band played before, and from which rock and roll grew, was called "rhythm and rollblues")

Then began the industrial production of devices that give such an effect (and the name of the effect is overdrive), Eric Clapton and other popular musicians began to use it, then there was more aggressive distortion, hard rock, then metal, thrash metal, and then increasing severity, but it all started with a successful fall of the amplifier

Interesting fact: the song is sung about the Oldsmobile 88 car, and the Jimmy Liggins song "Cadillac Boogie" is taken as the basis. Both automakers belong to the same GM concern, and I did not find information that these songs were an advertisement, but it is very similar to it

How Stoner rock was invented

Kyuss (read as 'ˈkaɪ.We started by playing in the California desert. The specifics of such events was that many beginner bands gathered in one place, and if the public did not like the music, they simply went 200 meters away and listened to another team, unlike bars where the public comes to the bar rather than to the group. It required constant work on his work to keep the audience

The two pillars of Kuyss' signature sound were guitarist Josh Homme's specific slow playing style, inspired by psychedelic rock, and the fact that he connected a guitar to a bass guitar amplifier to achieve a heavy sound

Over time, other bands began to adopt this sound, thereby giving rise to stoner rock (stoner - translated - a lover of marijuana. It was believed that slow heavy music was perfect for it), and stoner metal, as its heavier offshoot

After the collapse of the band in 1995, Josh Homme founded the Queens Of The Stone Age band, extremely popular in the West and undeservedly deprived of attention in the post-Soviet space

I recommend getting acquainted with the genre from the band's fourth album, as it is the most complete and brought to mind in their discography

[siriusleee]

hold on tighter

Rodolfo Para x f!reader For @glitterypirateduck's Fall4Rudy challenge. Prompt: I'd hold on to something if I were you A/N: I got started a day late to the party, so I'm trying to keep everything rolling. Make sure you check out everyone's submissions for Fall4Rudy here. To see others in this series, you can find them at my masterlist here. If you like what I write, consider donating to my ko-fi. It helps keep me from starving on these teacher wages. Edit: I totally forgot to say it, but the 'Troopers can speak Arabic' line is weirdly true. I went to Sam Houston in Texas, where a ton of law enforcement goes to college. And a weird amount of guys going to be state troopers take Arabic (or they did when I went to college there) because they want to work in intelligence, but end up staying at the state level..

The throbbing in your head intensifies with each bump of the ATV beneath you. Four weeks spent tracking a drug smuggling ring with ties to AQ and all you have to show for it is a set of stitches on your hairline and a blossoming bruise on your tailbone from the metal rack you’ve been forced to sit on. You know Rudy’s done his best to avoid the largest ruts in the ground, but it still doesn’t lessen the pounding in your head.

“Why couldn’t I have gotten my own ride?” You grumble behind Rudy, trying to ignore the way you’re forced to be pressed up against him. You’d refused to wrap your hands around his waist, instead opting to keep a death grip on the back rack. 

“More vehicles means more chance of us being spotted,” Rudy explains over the roar of the engine. “Besides, I’ve experienced your driving. You nearly flipped the truck.”

“I did not! And I grew up here Rodolfo - driving ATVs all over the place thank you. And I’ll have you know I only flipped them twice.”

Rudy’s barking laugh nearly drowns out the ATV. You should be thankful they even let you come anyway. There was a good chance they’d need someone to translate if there were any AQ members, but they could have chosen anyone else from the CIA team stationed in Texas to accompany them today. Hell, half the State Troopers Texas had sent to help knew the basics of Arabic somehow. They would have been enough until anyone could be reprimanded into custody.

But Rudy had been outside your hotel room bright and early, a heavy SUV waiting in the parking lot, with a heavy request to get dressed quickly.

The terrain stretches out in front of you two - in the distance you can make out the other ATVs. Mexican intelligence had found a tunnel ending in Texas that had seemed promising to your team's joint investigation - today was the perfect day to investigate. The plan was simple: pose as a group of geologists come to study the natural rock formations, and blow a section of the tunnel, crippling movement back and forth.

But the ache in your head, and the feeling of sleeping on a shitty hotel mattress is ringing in your bones, and a thick feeling of something wrong is rolling around inside of you. You don’t want to voice your worries to anyone, to jinx the operation; you wonder though, if Rudy can feel your apprehension when he taps the brakes enough to slide you forward so that you're forced to wrap one hand around his waist, the other bracing beside you.

“I’d hold on tighter, señorita; it gets rough ahead.”

You swallow the heat that grows in your chest at the feeling of his voice rumbling through you, the hand around his waist wrapping around the leather belt. 

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Hey I have trouble with sending asks so if you see this twice pls disregard. I just wanted your opinion.

In regards to the “Tour” post, I’d love to see it actually. I’d love if the big four break up the states in one big visit to cover more territory. Nothing against C&C. If anything they should handle the DC, New England elite circle.

Will & Cathrine can take Appalachia. Kate has drug addiction patronage, if it’s not too touchy (hard to avoid though) they can also listen to the addiction problems that plague the indigenous & rural community. Cathrine can deal with education and early years and Will can touch on the biodiversity stuff.

Sophie & Will can touch on the Civil Rights south. I’d love to see them partner up again. Very touchy, I’d know 👋🏾 but better to face it and get the backlash then keep avoiding it. Sophie does a lot of visits on the African continent & well, William is the heir, of & Tusk.

I can see Edward & Sophie in the northeast, maybe going to meet the migrant community. Visit some of the fruit farms. The US still sends fruit/food to the UK right?

It would be cool to see Artsy Cathrine & Edward in something art related. You can find that virtually anywhere in this country, bonus points if they avoid Hollywood. Visit some small local theaters. They can also meet up w\ The Princes Trust and definitely with some to the celebrities that work with the organization.

Will should definitely visit some public transportation systems. Places like NY, LA & even Chicago are likely out of the question because of the safety risk, and they’re well used but Sacramento and South Florida and even Atlanta would be good to visit. That would be nice to encourage more cities to adopt/expand a light rail/buss system. I know Florida needs to.

I would also absolutely, embargo this whole trip. Only mention that “members of the firm are coming” in advance then state the trip\visit the day of or the day before. Then have the big four with C & C meet up in DC for a very glam visit with the president( whoever it is) . By glam I mean, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE bring out the tiaras. The president or First Lady should borrow one from and American jeweler too. Americans may not understand royal visits and what it is the Firm can do for charities but we understand bling and how much we love-hate to see it. Like the MET Gala and all those Bridgeton shows people go crazy for.

Cathrine in Diana’s sapphire choker in DC & possibly the Wales kiddos on a school bus would be the absolute highlight in the fanfic tour of mine. ( I wouldn’t bring them for the whole tour, just DC). Make a school stop, early years plug or something. Especially in DC since the government is often talking about expanding maternity leave and Woman’s (reproductive) Rights.

So much potential but it’s worth it because it’s such a big country. It sucks to mention the obnoxious two but I’ve always dreaded them here (im over it now) and sometimes I’m surprised at the things they didn’t do. I’ve always expected them to do a “Harry learns America” type thing to win over the nation. They put out more PR about how much “America” was their new forever home and how much “the country” loves them, than they actually did visiting anywhere and showing it. Might have done them more good than going all the way to Nigeria and Columbia. Also, I don’t just mean LA & NY. Their NF (granted I never watched it)deal could’ve been all about that. Make visits in smaller overlooked places etc. I guess they went to Texas & allegedly partied with the wealthy in Wisconsin was it ?but that was always for their own photo op on a situation that others were already paying attention to. ( ex: Texas school shooting & some race in Miami, Just like this hurricane. It’s so inauthentic but that’s not new to them. Oh & I guess he’s surfing now. For all their loud mouth talk about colonialism and how evil the firm is they visited no plantations, no soul food restaurants to have well “SeAsonnED FoOD”? They really capitalized on the pre-existing anger we rightfully have against the firm and the blame its current members have inherited but there were so many other effective ways they could’ve really hammered the nail in. The best thing about these two is how shortsighted they are, because it does more to sabotage themselves better than anyone else could.

*********

It's a nice thought but it's never going to happen. If Charles, Camilla, William, Kate, Edward, and Sophie are all in the US at the same time, that means Andrew, Harry, or Beatrice will be deputized counsellors of state, alongside Anne, since the law requires 2 counsellors of state to act in the King's absence. So no way, no how.

I'm not going to lie - I really did expect one of the Netflix projects to be a "coming to America" docuseries where Harry adjusts to life in California all the weird idiosyncrasies that comes with living in America and being American, only because the Beckhams did it and Meghan is nothing if not a copycat.

(I deleted your comments about Kamala because it's going to rile up tempers but I did want to address one of them: "the powers that be" determining who the president is is the American public that goes to the polls and votes. If you think there's something, or someone, else choosing who the President is, then this is really not the blog for you.)

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Trudy Ring at The Advocate:

Twenty-six Republican state attorneys general are urging the U.S. Supreme Court to uphold the anti-transgender sports laws in Idaho and West Virginia. The AGs of Idaho and West Virginia have already asked the high court to review rulings that blocked them from enforcing their laws barring trans athletes from competing under their gender identity in school sports. The justices, who are in recess for the summer, haven’t said if they’ll take the case. The AGs calling on the court to uphold the laws filed friend-of-the-court briefs, known formally as amicus curiae, August 14. Such briefs are filed by people and organizations that are not directly involved in a case but want to express an opinion on it. The attorneys general of Alabama, Arkansas, Alaska, Florida, Georgia, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, New Hampshire, North Dakota, Ohio, Oklahoma, South Carolina, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Virginia, West Virginia, and Wyoming signed on to the Idaho brief, and the same ones, with the exception of West Virginia and the addition of Idaho, signed on to the West Virginia brief — that’s because Idaho and West Virginia, respectively, are the states directly involved.

They assert that such laws are needed to assure equal opportunities for cisgender girls and women in sports. “Amici States all have laws or policies like Idaho’s that restrict girls’ sports teams to biological females,” the Idaho brief reads. “Basing the distinction on biology rather than gender identity makes sense because it is the differences in biology — not gender identity — that call for separate teams in the first place: Whatever their gender identity, biological males are, on average, stronger and faster than biological females. If those average physical differences did not matter, there would be no need to segregate sports teams at all.”

[...]

Arkansas AG Tim Griffin and Alabama AG Steve Marshall are the leaders in filing the briefs. “Like Arkansas, West Virginia has a strong interest in safeguarding the benefits of equal access to athletic opportunities for women and girls,” Griffin said in a press release. “They deserve the opportunity to shine on a level playing field. Biological males should not be robbing females of their opportunity to compete for athletic accolades or scholarships, nor should they be threatening the safety of women in competition. I will continue fighting to protect girls’ sports teams and the opportunities of female athletes.” In Idaho, Lindsay Hecox, a trans woman track athlete at Boise State University, filed a suit challenging the state's law, the first in the nation, shortly after Republican Gov. Brad Little signed it in 2020, along with Kayden Hulquist, a then-senior at Boise High School who is cisgender and was concerned about being subjected to the law’s invasive “sex verification” testing. They are represented by the American Civil Liberties Union and its Idaho affiliate, Legal Voice, and Cooley LLP.

Idaho Chief U.S. District Court Judge David C. Nye issued an injunction blocking the ban in August 2020. He noted that it appears to be on shaky constitutional ground. A three-judge panel of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit affirmed his action in 2023. In West Virginia, trans girl Becky Pepper-Jackson, then 11, filed suit challenging the law in 2021, represented by the ACLU, Lambda Legal, and a private law firm. U.S. District Judge Joseph R. Goodwin that year issued a preliminary injunction temporarily blocking enforcement of the law and said she could try out for girls’ sports, noting that the suit “seeks relief only insofar as this law applies to her.” Goodwin also wrote that Pepper-Jackson, who is on puberty-blocking drugs, “has shown that she will not have any inherent physical advantage over the girls she would compete against on the girls’ cross country and track teams. Further, permitting B.P.J. to participate on the girls’ teams would not take away athletic opportunities from other girls.”

26 Republican AGs ask the MAGA majority on SCOTUS to uphold Idaho and West Virginia’s laws banning trans people from playing sports competitions matching their gender identity.

[mightyflamethrower]

(The Center Square) – Border Patrol agents continue to rescue young unaccompanied children smuggled into the country by cartel operatives, believing they have been drugged and abused.

“Sometimes we encounter criminal actions so horrendous they defy human decency,” El Centro Sector Chief Patrol Agent Gregory Bovino said in a recent social media post.

He described how Border Patrol agents rescued a young boy “from a trafficker who heavily dosed him w/ sleep aids to prevent him from talking to agents. Scarier still is the trafficker had birth certificates for more kids.” Bovino also posted photos of the child and multiple Arizona birth certificates they discovered.

“So sad for the innocents caught up in trafficking,” he said in another social media post, adding that within 48 hours they rescued two more minors. “This is sad, reprehensible, and evil.” In another post, he said, “We just caught another drugged child load within the past 48 hours that was just as bad. … This is terrible. Poor children.”

After another rescue, he posted additional photos saying two more children were rescued “from being exploited by smugglers. These criminals are not related to the children they smuggle. These traffickers go to extreme lengths to smuggle these children – giving them sleep aids to keep them quiet.”

Birth certificates found in the possession of a human smugglerUS Border Patrol El Centro Sector Chief Patrol Agent Gregory Bovino via X

“Exploiting kids like this is terrible. In one of the events, when the child was finally woken up, he began yelling for his grandmother. Simply terrifying for all involved. … It's our intention to stop this terrible practice.”

California has seen record numbers of illegal border crossers under the Biden-Harris administration. As Texas expanded border security efforts, illegal activity moved west, with record numbers of people and drugs pouring into California.

California now leads the U.S. in apprehensions but shares the smallest portion of the US-Mexico border, 137 miles. Its patrolled by Border Patrol agents in the U.S. Customs and Border Protection El Centro and San Diego sectors.

At a recent U.S. House Committee on Homeland Security hearing, retired San Diego Sector Border Patrol Chief Patrol Agent Aaron Heitke testified to the chaos of the last 3.5 years.

U.S. Rep. Anthony D’Esposito, R-NY, asked him about female victims “taken over by gangs and others trying to get them across the southern border,” referring to Heitke testifying that “it's very common that female migrants are raped during the process. Most of them believe it's just part of the payment” for being smuggled into the country.

Heitke described what they discovered after large numbers of unaccompanied minors were being brought in.

“We started to see recruiters in Mexico that would go around in the Tijuana area because the migrants would stage in Mexico before they came to the United States,” he said.

Cartel operatives would recruit teenage girls in Tijuana “and they would leave their families. Oftentimes, they had traveled to Tijuana with their families. They would leave their families behind, come to the United States, claim they were unaccompanied minors, and they would be put up in the facilities that the charities had set aside for them in San Diego.”

From there, they were trafficked into forced prostitution, Heitke said.

“Once they had been put up” at the charity facilities “they're not held in detention. It's just a room.” Their smugglers had given them a phone number to call. When they called, a recruiter “from Oakland or Los Angeles picked them up.” The teenagers were “then brought up and forced into prostitution, oftentimes in the Oakland and Los Angeles area, and other places in the country we had active cases going on.

“But because we did not have the resources, because we were inundated with so many people, we couldn't follow up” on active human trafficking cases, Heitke said.

Border Patrol agents “deal with death, women and children that have been raped, abused, trafficked, bought and sold, families that have spent months in terrible conditions, sickness, and despair. If you look at the dramatic rise in the number of suicides within the Border Patrol it is directly correlated with the migrant surge. The agents have been pushed beyond their limit and this has greatly impacted their physical and mental health.”

Fixing the border crisis doesn’t require new legislation but enforcing existing law, he said.

At a U.S. House Judiciary Committee hearing, Tulare County Sheriff Mike Boudreaux echoed similar sentiments. Current policies “caused a major crisis in California and in America. California is an open territory for the cartel to do whatever it wants,” he said. He’s also said he’s among many California sheriffs who don’t support Harris for president.

Former Immigration and Customs Enforcement chief Tom Homan agrees, saying Biden-Harris policies “are inhumane. They caused over 450,000 children to enter the country illegally who were separated from their families and out in the hands of criminal cartels and then they lost track of nearly 100,000 of them. HSI has found some children working in disgusting forced labor conditions and many being rented over and over again to the cartels to be used as pawns for single adults to claim a family unit,” he told The Center Square.

U.S. Sen. Chuck Grassley, R-IA, has led the charge to protect unaccompanied minors. His latest effort was blocked by one Democrat from Oregon, The Center Square reported.

[donniewatts]

                𝑫𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑰𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑺 & 𝑭𝑨𝑴𝑰𝑳𝒀 , a comprehensive study.

This meta will discuss Donnie's relationship with his actual family members and his relationship with family as a concept. Here I'll be exploring how his attitude towards it has shifted and changed throughout his life. I will be touching on some fairly triggering topics in this meta, all of which have been tagged and listed below. For that reason, this meta is under a read more. Please take care when reading, and don't worry if you aren't in the headspace to read this, there's no hard feelings.

Please be aware that the following topics will be discussed, some in greater detail than others: addiction, child neglect/abuse, allusions to csa, religious trauma, homophobia, pregnancy, addiction, drug use, alcoholism, family death, suicide, trauma, and discussions of war.

Donnie, despite all the misconceptions one may have of him, is motivated by family and legacy. It haunts him in a way that nobody talks about. Every man in the Watts family tree, as far back as they can trace being in the States, has served the military in one way or the other. Every man in the Watts family, since the end of the Civil War, has owned and trained horses for one purpose or the other. They may not have been in that profession their entire lives, but they all started there. Donnie did. His father did. His brother did. You get the idea. This is part of the reason why Donnie always felt so conflicted about what he'd do once he'd graduated high school. Would he continue the family legacy and enlist like his father had? Would he follow in his brother's footsteps and look to make a name for himself as a rancher? Or would he follow his heart and become a rockstar?

Ultimately, Donnie decided to honour the family tradition, mostly to spite his mother. He's always had something to prove, his mother made sure of that. He was going to make his family (and to him, at the age of nineteen, his family consisted of his brother, his sister-in-law, his niece, and his nephew) proud. He was going to do something that would, in his eyes, make him worthy of their love. Achieving a level of success in the world of ranching would also show them how good of a job they did in taking him in, as he always feels as though he owes them for that (even though they volunteered to do it, and were happy to help out their little brother. Brody especially, as he carries so much guilt for leaving Donnie alone with their mother in the first place.)

I think that, as a child, Donnie based his notion of family off of what his mother told him. His idea of what a family should be was very much in line with the nuclear family, a mother, a father, the white picket fence, and two children. The idea of it was hammered into his head so often-and so brutally-that he felt othered by the fact that he was being raised by a single mother. This othering led to him resenting the very idea of the family home. He hated it whenever his mother would try to engage in things like family dinner at the dining table. Or dragging him to church every Sunday because that's what families were supposed to do.

When he was taken away from his mother at the age of twelve, he was introduced to what an actual, healthy family unit looked like. Brody Watts had gotten away from Texas and made a damn good life for himself. He had two beautiful kids, a wife who adored him, and Dogwood Ranch in his care. Spending his teen years with Brody and Cassidy helped heal a lot of childhood wounds, so much so that by the time his eighteenth birthday rolls around and his mother contacts him for the final guilt trip he'll ever receive from her all he can do is feel hatred for her. Hatred for her and love for the brother who'd taken him in, love for the sister-in-law who had become the older sister he'd always wanted, and love for the kids who called him 'Uncle D!' whenever they saw him. He wanted that. He wanted a home like theirs, warm and welcoming and the total opposite of the crucifix-infested battlefield that his mother had raised him in.

His early twenties were rough. Addled by a responsibility he was not prepared for, and an addiction to anything that took him skywards for a couple of hours. Heroin was the real killer. He overdosed twice, and was saved twice by a family he didn't share a single drop of blood with. Rancid Creature wasn't just a fun side project for him and his friends, Rancid Creature was, frankly, Donnie's entire world, and a love letter to the dear friend he'd lost in Lee Bennett (who had conceptualised the band when they were thirteen and still fumbling their way through learning how to play their instruments. Lee played bass, Donnie was the drummer. The dream rhythm section.) Izzy, Sammy and Clara were, and still are, like siblings to Donnie. He would drop anything to help them... he knew it wasn't the conventional family, but it was his.

Family wasn't just a loving partner and a couple of kids running around to Donnie anymore. But it's the prospect of a family that ultimately pushed him into getting clean. Anita Huerta, a long-term on and off girlfriend, revealed that she was pregnant, and that she wanted to keep the baby. She wanted to get clean for the baby, and so did Donnie. He'd swore years before that he'd never abandon his children, he'd never subject them to his bullshit the same way his mother had. Donnie, wanting nothing more than to cultivate a warm, safe, family environment for his and Anita's child, got clean.

Now that he's in his early thirties, he knows that he doesn't need to have the conventional nuclear family to be happy. A happy family home doesn't look the same for everyone, and despite the fact that he's always stressing over being as good a dad to Emma as possible, he knows this. Family is whoever you feel safe with, family is whoever helps when you're at your worst, family isn't just blood. Donnie took a long time coming to this conclusion, and he still struggles with undoing the mess his mother made of his brain, but he's there. And he doesn't intend on backing away from it anytime soon.

For some quick-fire headcanons about Donnie's family members and his relationships with those family members, look no further!

𝑅𝐸: 𝑀𝐸𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑆𝐴 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fc : Willa Fitzgerald & Mary Mcdonnell. )

Melissa Rose was the youngest of five daughters. Her father detested the fact that his wife would only ever give him daughters when what he really wanted was sons. This made him angry, abusive, unfaithful, and a drunkard. Her father, Adam, was a Baptist pastor. His sermons were the very definition of 'Brimstone and Hellfire.' He was a stern but charming man, with an agreeable face and the picture-perfect family. He was all about image, and this attitude would stick with Melissa all her life.

She actually wanted to run away from Texas her whole life, she had dreams of becoming a Hollywood star. She was always told that she was pretty enough to be in the movies.

Melissa married Colton Watts on a total whim, their romance was an intense whirlwind of emotions and intimacy. She'd never been treated so kindly by a man before Colton came along. He promised her the world. And then he went to war.

When Colton returned home, he was a totally different man. He was emptier than she remembered him, and she was resentful. He would have weeks, even months, of being the happy-go-lucky sweetheart she'd married. Then he'd retreat into himself and would prefer to speak to the horses he cared for than he would to her.

Eleven years of unsteady marriage later, Brody Watts was born. The euphoria of being a new parent didn't last long, Colton would soon retreat back into the stables. The same would happen ten years later when Donovan was born.

After Colton's death, and after Brody ran away from his mother's venomous tongue, Melissa was left alone to raise her youngest son. She never called him Donnie, she would only ever call him Donovan.

Donnie, as a toddler, would actually prefer the company of his mother. He enjoyed being bounced on her hip while she went about the household chores. He enjoyed listening to her read. He found his father to be something of a ghost. However, he did run and hide under Brody's bed whenever she'd get into one of her bad moods. She was vicious, a caged animal unleashed on her family.

When Colton died, Donnie was seven. And Melissa fell hard into heavy drinking. Her fuse grew shorter, and even the smallest of mistakes made by Donnie would set her off. If he cried? She'd shout. If he spilt or dropped something? She'd shout. Without even realising it, Melissa had become her father.

Donnie grew older, more vocal, and pushed back against Melissa's temper. He was rewarded with violence, with unwarranted sermons. She would punish him by making him copy entire verses from the Bible by hand. She would take scissors to his hair whenever he refused to go and get it cut. Donnie's defensive, and often explosive temper, was born here. As was his desire to solve everything with his fists.

Melissa didn't hide what she thought of her son from him. She thought he was gay, and would tell him so. She would often fling slurs at him. She thought he was a sinful child, a demon given to her as punishment for running away from her family with his father. She would tell him this too.

She would also blame him routinely for his father's death. Something that Donnie still hasn't been able to shake.

Donnie was sent to a "summer camp" that the local church ran by his mother to "fix" his behaviour. The children would learn to camp, would learn to work, and would learn to be "more Christian" in their attitudes. It was essentially a behaviour retreat for delinquent kids. It was here that one of the pastors would assault Donnie.

The second he returned home, Donnie bypassed telling his mother anything and took himself straight to the local sheriff's station. He told them everything about the pastor, and about his mother. The sheriff was an old army friend of Colton's and had suspected that something was amiss for years. He was the one who saw to it that the social services took Donnie away from Melissa.

Donnie hasn't seen his mother since, and he hasn't heard from her since his eighteenth birthday. He doesn't even know if she's still alive or not, he hasn't thought to check. He's glad to have cut her out of his life, even if there has always been a longing in him to try and get through to her. Sometimes he misses her reading to him as a child, sometimes he misses her embrace. Sometimes he just wants his mom.

He only ever refers to her as 'mother' or 'Melissa.' Only in really vulnerable moments does he ever slip up and call her 'mom.'

A lot of Donnie's self-loathing stems from the way his mother treated him. A lot of Donnie's internal homophobia stems from his mother. A lot of Donnie's issues with his own masculinity stem from his mother. All of his issues with religion and the idea of a benevolent god stem from his mother's attitudes and the fact that she sent him away to that "summer camp." He's slowly coming to terms with this and feels so much resentment towards her for it that whenever she's mentioned he tends to get stiff and oddly quiet. It takes him a long time to learn to talk about her without feeling angry, and he does so for Emma's sake.

Donnie looks most like his mother, with her soft features, curly hair, and pretty green eyes. It's why he'd always take great offence to anybody ever calling him a girl when he was a teenager.

𝑅𝐸: 𝐶𝑂𝐿𝑇𝑂𝑁 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fc : Robert Redford. )

Colton was the middle child out of three. His older brother, Tristan, died in France, and his youngest brother, Michael, moved to Europe in the summer of forty-seven. His parents owned Dogwood Ranch, as many Watts had before them. It was the ancestral home of the Watts family.

He was raised Catholic, as many are in Longing.

He moved to Texas with his older brother to pursue a Rodeo career. Colton was a promising young Bronc rider and adored working with horses more than anything else. He also enjoyed playing guitar and singing. Music was always going to be a huge part of Donnie's life.

It was there he met Melissa Rose, who looked as though she'd just wandered off of a movie set. Colton was smitten with her, and she was smitten with him. They were young and reckless and felt invincible, and Colton wanted to give Melissa the world. They were married within six months, and, with Tristain's help, living on a plot of land in Copeville within the year.

Then he enlisted and went to war. Colton took his guitar with him to France and would sing for his fellow soldiers whenever he was able. He kept them entertained and happy despite the horrors they saw. He burned his candle at both ends and returned with bullet holes in his guitar, and holes in his heart.

He tried to fight the numbness with all his might. He tried to be present for his sons, but he'd often find himself feeling the chill of The Bulge even in the height of a Texan summer and would slip into his own mind for hours at a time.

To cope, Colton hid himself away in the shed or the stables, fearing what he might do if he was around his family for any longer than a few hours at a time. He could not trust his own body or mind.

As a result, his sons often saw him as a stranger. He tried to make up for it by teaching them guitar chords, showing them how to handle horses, or singing with them. He felt especially close to Donnie, who seemed to take better to his musical inclinations than Brody did. Brody seemed more interested in horses.

Donnie recalls several key moments with his father. Being taught to play the guitar, how to handle a gun, how to ride, how to be a Bronc rider, and being taken to Dallas when his father was due to meet with old war buddies.

Whenever talking about his father, Donnie often calls him his 'old man.' He seems to talk about him with far more respect than he ever does with his mother, despite feeling like he hardly knew him. Donnie also feels an affinity with his father now that he's an adult, especially since he's been through trauma and had to deal with the aftermath.

Donnie still owns his father's guitar, it's easily his most prized possession. He owned a silver signet ring with a cursive 'W' on it that his dad took with him to France and gave to Donnie for good luck. The ring had been in the Watts family for as long as anybody can remember. Donnie gives it to James Gallowes for good luck and as a symbol of his love for him.

In terms of appearance, Donnie takes after Colton's physical build. Looking at photographs of the two of them where their faces aren't visible, you could be forgiven for thinking it's the same person. Donnie also has his father's toothy smile and, according to Brody, Donnie's voice is freakishly similar to their dad's.

Donnie used to resent the fact that Colton put a bullet in his own mouth. It sent Brody away because it made Melissa worse.

𝑅𝐸: 𝐵𝑅𝑂𝐷𝑌 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fc : Charlie Hunnam. )

Brody is ten years older than Donnie. Has their mother's softer face shape like Donnie does, but the rest of his face is all Colton. Right down to the scruffy blond beard and pin-straight hair. Brody's whole demeanour is gruff, but kind. He's quick to smile and far more optimistic than his younger brother.

When they were kids, Brody would jokingly refer to Donnie as Yosemite Sam from Looney Tunes whenever Donnie lost his temper. It's why Donnie has a Yosemite Sam tattoo on his arm.

Brody always stepped in and took Donnie away from their mother whenever her temper would flare, and would play with him or read to him to keep him occupied. Sometimes he'd take Donnie up to the stables to look after the horses with him. In that way, Brody was more a parent to Donnie than their actual parents were.

At first, Donnie was confused when Brody took off after Colton's death. Then his mother got worse, and then he got angry at him for abandoning him with their mother. He was so angry that a month into being put into Brody and Cassidy's care, the two had a fight that almost came to blows. It didn't, because Brody outright refused to hurt Donnie anymore than he'd already been hurt. This made Donnie break down and cry. Brody held him and the two spoke about things more calmly.

This blowout didn't diffuse Donnie's resentment entirely, but it helped Donnie understand his brother's reasons for leaving.

The ten-year gap between the two meant that talking as brothers was often difficult for them. But Brody always did his best to be patient with Donnie, to be careful around his trauma and what might set him off. He would also cut through Donnie's moping and ensure that he wasn't self-sabotaging.

Brody also gives full embarrassing dad energy whenever Donnie's got friends over. He endearingly refers to Donnie, Lee and James as 'The Three Stooges.' James would also often find himself staying over at Dogwood Ranch after Donnie discovers that his uncle is mistreating him. Brody allows it because he really wants to encourage Donnie to be more emotionally vulnerable and have more friends.

Donnie and Brody love each other fiercely and will jump to one another's defence without question, even if they find it hard to have deep discussions without the help of a few beers.

Donnie hates disappointing Brody (and by extension, Cassidy), and so doesn't reach out to him for help when he should. He often needs pushing into contacting Brody by his bandmates whenever something's going wrong or he's struggling with Emma on his own.

Donnie's object permeance (yay ADHD!) extends to people. This means, that if things aren't in his immediate everyday life, he tends to neglect them. This makes him terrible at calling Brody and keeping in touch, thankfully, both Brody and Cassidy understand this and will often check in with him of their own volition.

𝑅𝐸: 𝐶𝐴𝑆𝑆𝐼𝐷𝑌 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fc : Freema Agyeman. )

Cassidy Jonas met Brody Watts and immediately fell in love. They bonded over a love of horses, rock music, and spicy food. They just clicked. Their friendship turned into love and ended with them married at the age of twenty-one. It was the most natural thing in the world.

Cassidy Watts was pregnant with twins when Donnie Watts crossed the threshold of Dogwood for the first time. He reminded her of her grandmother's three-legged cat, Nelson, who used to swipe at newcomers whenever they entered whichever room he happened to be sleeping in. He was jittery and jumped at every little noise. It broke her heart to learn what had happened to him, it made her angry too. Brody had to talk her out of driving to Copeville and giving Melissa Watts a piece of her mind. She couldn't conceive of ever hurting her children.

At first, Cassidy attempted to approach Donnie with kid gloves. That seemed to send him further into his shell. What seemed to appeal to him was being spoken to like an adult. A person in his own right. So she did. Because of the honesty between them, Donnie and Cassidy grew close.

Donnie had the messiest, most unhealthy head of curls when he came to Longing, and not a few months later, Cassidy had them styled and healthier than ever. Being a black woman with tight, coiled hair, she was perfectly qualified to help Donnie treat his curls properly. It was a long, careful routine that Donnie keeps to even now in his early thirties.

After the twins were born, Donnie took to being an uncle like a duck to water. He helped Cassidy with feeding them whenever Brody was out working, and would often keep them entertained when he wasn't out causing mischief with his new friends.

When Donnie was fifteen, Cassidy started to attend classes in hopes of becoming a Doctor or a Nurse, as she'd always dreamed of becoming one as a child.

If asked, Donnie would name Cassidy as the woman who raised him. She was the one who helped him out of panic attacks and soothed him whenever he couldn't sleep, she was the one who talked to him about his romantic feelings for James, she was the one who encouraged him to follow his gut after he graduated. She was also the person who put him in his place whenever he was letting his anger get the better of him.

Donnie almost exclusively calls Cassidy 'Cass', and it's always with the utmost affection. He adores her with his entire being.

Cassidy is also the first person Donnie comes out to, officially. She's the person he turns to whenever he finds himself stuck. He knows she won't judge him or think less of him for messing up. Neither would Brody, but Donnie isn't so confident with that knowledge. He's getting there.

𝑅𝐸: 𝐺𝐼𝑁𝐴 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐽𝑂𝑁𝐴𝐻 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fcs : undecided. )

Georgina and Jonah Watts are fraternal twins and are the only two children of Brody and Cassidy Watts. Donnie views the pair of them as his younger siblings.

The twins refer to Donnie as 'Don' or 'Uncle D' pretty much exclusively.

Gina falls in love with rock music because of her parents and falls deeper in love with metal and alternative music because of Donnie. Donnie often catches her rifling through his tapes when he's not keeping an eye on her. When he leaves Longing, he actually leaves the vast majority of his tapes and vinyl at Dogwood, so that Gina can listen to them. Gina also gifts Donnie with an Iron Maiden poster on his fourteenth birthday, Cassidy informs him that she wanted to give her uncle a present that meant a lot to him. He still has the poster now, it's in a frame on the wall of his living room.

Jonah and Donnie bond over horses. Brody held no interest in actually participating in any kind of Rodeo events, and neither did Donnie, but Donnie knew a couple of tricks to help Jonah get started. He showed him how to ride and how to tend to the horses alongside Brody. Jonah also shares Donnie's love of Star Wars and sci-fi. He even starts to copy Donnie when Donnie starts keeping journals and writing things like song lyrics down. Jonah's got a big imagination and an even bigger heart. Donnie encourages him to feel things unapologetically and to talk to his parents when things are bothering him. When he leaves Dogwood, Donnie leaves a good chunk of his books with Jonah, knowing he'll take care of them.

Donnie misses a good chunk of the twins' milestones while he's off trying to make a name for himself, but that doesn't stop them from sending him letters and getting excited whenever he calls. He feels guilty for not being there more for them during this time, and he's always trying to make up for it, even though they hold no hard feelings over it.

Donnie also misses these milestones because he's too high, which he feels deeply ashamed of, despite the understanding he gets from Brody, Cass and the twins.

He might be terrible at calling, but Donnie has an uncanny ability to remember dates, even when he's deep in the throes of addiction and depression. He always sends thoughtful gifts and birthday cards/letters to his niece and nephew. He dedicates more than a couple of songs and awards for his music to them and their parents.

He's their favourite uncle, despite being their only uncle. And they will die defending him. That's his little sister and his little brother! And he will die for them!

[beardedmrbean]

WASHINGTON — The Supreme Court on Friday upheld a federal law that prohibits people subjected to domestic violence restraining orders from having firearms, taking a step back from its recent endorsement of a broad right to possess a gun.

The court on an 8-1 vote ruled in favor of the Biden administration, which was defending the law — one of several federal gun restrictions currently facing legal challenges.

The ruling indicates that some longstanding gun laws are likely to survive despite the court's 2022 decision that expanded gun rights by finding for the first time that there is a right to bear arms outside the home under the Constitution's Second Amendment.

Writing for the majority, Chief Justice John Roberts wrote that since the United States was founded "our nation's firearm laws have included provisions preventing individuals who threaten physical harm to others from misusing firearms."

The provision at issue in the case "fits comfortably within this tradition," he added.

In reaching its conclusion, the court did not embrace some of the arguments made by the Biden administration in defense of the law, including that the government can disarm people who are not "responsible."

Although the vote was lopsided, with only conservative Justice Clarence Thomas dissenting, the ruling nevertheless exposed divisions among the justices on the gun rights issue, with five justices writing separate concurring opinions explaining their views.

The 2022 decision, in a case called New York State Rifle and Pistol Association v. Bruen, said gun restrictions had to be analyzed based on a historical understanding of the right to bear arms. As such, the decision raised questions about many existing gun restrictions that gun rights activists say are not anchored in historical tradition.

One of those other laws, which bars users of illegal drugs from possessing firearms, has drawn scrutiny in part because Hunter Biden, President Joe Biden’s son, has been charged with violating it and has mounted a constitutional challenge.

The three liberal justices on the conservative-majority court were all in the majority while making it clear they disagree with the 2022 ruling.

Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson, who was appointed by President Joe Biden after that decision was issued, said the new case "highlights the apparent difficulty faced by judges on the ground" in deciding which gun laws should be upheld in light of the earlier ruling.

The case before the justices concerned Zackey Rahimi, a Texas man whose partner obtained a restraining order against him in February 2020. He argued that he cannot be prosecuted under the federal gun possession restriction in light of what the Supreme Court concluded.

Rahimi’s ex-partner, with whom he shares a child, obtained a restraining order after an incident in an Arlington, Texas, parking lot in 2019. Rahimi allegedly knocked the woman to the ground, dragged her to his car and pushed her inside, causing her to knock her head on the dashboard, prosecutors said in court papers. He also allegedly fired a shot from his gun in the direction of a witness.

Even while the protective order was in place, Rahimi was implicated in a series of shootings, including one in which he allegedly fired bullets into a house using an AR-15 rifle, prosecutors allege.

Rahimi faces state charges in the domestic assault and a separate assault against a different woman. But the case before the justices concerns his separate prosecution by the Justice Department for violating the federal gun possession law.

Rahimi ultimately pleaded guilty and was sentenced to six years in prison.

The New Orleans-based 5th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals applied the Supreme Court’s 2022 ruling in Rahimi’s case and concluded last year that the law “fails to pass constitutional muster.”

[pixieprixess]

maybe i should explain each of the characters you're going to meet.

this is feyre keller, she's twenty-six and strived to be like her brother, alex. her callsign is echo 3-2. she met johnny during operation deadbolt when she was saving him from a bunch of zombies when she was twenty. it was a slight slow burn at first and she ended up falling for the young scotsman. after marrying, they had three boys, two older twins, a young boy and then a young girl.

she's not retired from the military and will end up going anywhere when needed.

----

this is elena clarke, she's thirty-four and is a master marksman and assassin. her callsign is solarflare as she is bright and hard to see. she met graves during a mission in texas and since then, she's had him surprisingly wrapped around her fingers. graves forced her to retire in texas and gave her all authority to decorate and do whatever while he paid for everything. "why should i let my woman work?" she would always here him say.

----

this is faye hernandez, she's twenty-seven and is a civilian caught in a cartel life because of her wife, valeria. she met valeria when she was getting her nails done and they hit it off. faye didn't take shit from anyone and valeria loved that and made sure faye would always stay safe. valeria gave her a card and told her to do whatever. faye bought them a house where no one would find them as long as the stipulation was that valeria would come home and love her.

valeria couldn't deny faye what she wanted.

----

this is esme swan, she's thirty-one and was saved by ghost during one of his missions in london as one of their enemies had taken her hostage. esme thanked him quietly and smiled. ghost didn't quite know what to do as rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. esme handed him her number and told ghost to call her anytime. he did. now they're married and enjoying life.

----

this is imogen cooper, she's thirty and a cilvian that price married without anyone, but laswell, knowing. they have two children, one of each, and she stays home to take care of them while price does his captain duties. she lives in glasgow with them and makes sure no one knows she's married to the captain.

she loves the life she's in.

----

this is althea wilson, she's a sniper in the c.i.a and met gaz during one of the missions where she had to go undercover to get intel on a mafia man who's been distributing drugs and sex trafficking. althea and gaz didn't quite get along and they hated each other until they met again years later when she was helping him in one of his missions and they ended falling for another.

a sentiment, she believes.

----

until stated, only feyre and imogen have children while the others don't. there might be times they will not have children, but that will be stated when i write it. thank you for reading about these characters<3

[cheerfullycatholic]

Jedidiah Murphy is scheduled for execution in Texas on October 10, 2023 for the 2000 murder of Bertie Cunningham. Explore this case more at savejedidiahmurphy.org ABANDONED, PHYSICALLY AND PSYCHOLOGICALLY ABUSED, NEGLECTED, ASSAULTED, SHIPPED, REMOVED and ALONE. These are all the things Jedidiah Murphy experienced by the time he was just 13 years old, when most children are learning what foods they like or what their talents are. He was never treated for any of these things, and as a result, he did what many do that never get the help they need. He committed a horrific crime and ended up on Texas death row. Jedidiah was in and out of foster care and had been removed by the state from his first adoptive home due to abuse and violence - something that was common in Jedidiah's life. He had been subjected to it for as long as he can remember, and at the age of 13 he began drinking to self-medicate the trauma and his complex and debilitating mental disorder called dissociative identity. He never denied his role in the murder case and he confessed because he never set out to harm anyone. He doesn't even remember the biggest details of the crime at all, due to his severe mental illness. He suffered blackouts from the ongoing trauma of abuse, neglect and abandonment. He was drugged during his trial and would often sleep during parts of it - seemingly cold and indifferent because he was incapable of normal emotion at all. He even attempted suicide during his trial. Should the State of Texas kill someone that they clearly failed time and time again as a child?

[priestbitmoved]

                                  [ ˑ ˑ ˑ ] 𝑫𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑰𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑺 & 𝑭𝑨𝑴𝑰𝑳𝒀 , a comprehensive study.

This meta will discuss Donnie's relationship with his actual family members and his relationship with family as a concept. Here I'll be exploring how his attitude towards it has shifted and changed throughout his life. I will be touching on some fairly triggering topics in this meta, all of which have been tagged and listed below. For that reason, this meta is under a read more. Please take care when reading, and don't worry if you aren't in the headspace to read this, there's no hard feelings.

Please be aware that the following topics will be discussed, some in greater detail than others: addiction, child neglect/abuse, allusions to csa, religious trauma, homophobia, pregnancy, addiction, drug use, alcoholism, family death, suicide, trauma, and discussions of war.

Donnie, despite all the misconceptions one may have of him, is motivated by family and legacy. It haunts him in a way that nobody talks about. Every man in the Watts family tree, as far back as they can trace being in the States, has served the military in one way or the other. Every man in the Watts family, since the end of the Civil War, has owned and trained horses for one purpose or the other. They may not have been in that profession their entire lives, but they all started there. Donnie did. His father did. His brother did. You get the idea. This is part of the reason why Donnie always felt so conflicted about what he'd do once he'd graduated high school. Would he continue the family legacy and enlist like his father had? Would he follow in his brother's footsteps and look to make a name for himself as a rancher? Or would he follow his heart and become a rockstar?

Ultimately, Donnie decided to follow his heart. He's always had something to prove, his mother made sure of that. He was going to make his family (and to him, at the age of nineteen, his family consisted of his brother, his sister-in-law, his niece, and his nephew) proud. He was going to do something that would, in his eyes, make him worthy of their love. Achieving his dreams would also show them how good of a job they did in taking him in, as he always feels as though he owes them for that (even though they volunteered to do it, and were happy to help out their little brother. Brody especially, as he carries so much guilt for leaving Donnie alone with their mother in the first place.)

I think that, as a child, Donnie based his notion of family off of what his mother told him. His idea of what a family should be was very much in line with the nuclear family, a mother, a father, the white picket fence, and two children. The idea of it was hammered into his head so often-and so brutally-that he felt othered by the fact that he was being raised by a single mother. This othering led to him resenting the very idea of the family home. He hated it whenever his mother would try to engage in things like family dinner at the dining table. Or dragging him to church every Sunday because that's what families were supposed to do.

When he was taken away from his mother at the age of twelve, he was introduced to what an actual, healthy family unit looked like. Brody Watts had gotten away from Texas and made a damn good life for himself. He had two beautiful kids, a wife who adored him, and Dogwood Ranch in his care. Spending his teen years with Brody and Cassidy helped heal a lot of childhood wounds, so much so that by the time his eighteenth birthday rolls around and his mother contacts him for the final guilt trip he'll ever receive from her all he can do is feel hatred for her. Hatred for her and love for the brother who'd taken him in, love for the sister-in-law who had become the older sister he'd always wanted, and love for the kids who called him 'Uncle D!' whenever they saw him. He wanted that. He wanted a home like theirs, warm and welcoming and the total opposite of the crucifix-infested battlefield that his mother had raised him in.

His early twenties were rough. Addled by fame he was not prepared for, and an addiction to anything that takes him skywards for a couple of hours. Heroin was the real killer. He overdosed twice, and was saved twice by a family he didn't share a single drop of blood with. Rancid Creature wasn't just a successful metal band, Rancid Creature was Donnie's entire world, and a love letter to the dear friend he'd lost in Lee Bennett (who had conceptualised the band when they were thirteen and still fumbling their way through learning how to play their instruments. Lee played bass, Donnie was the drummer. The dream rhythm section.) Izzy, Sammy and Clara were, and still are, like siblings to Donnie. He would drop anything to help them... he knew it wasn't the conventional family, but it was his. It was the only one he could have around all the touring and the TV interviews anyway.

Family wasn't just a loving partner and a couple of kids running around to Donnie anymore. But it's the prospect of a family that ultimately pushed him into getting clean. Anita Huerta, a long-term on and off girlfriend, revealed that she was pregnant, and that she wanted to keep the baby. She wanted to get clean for the baby, and so did Donnie. He'd swore years before that he'd never abandon his children, he'd never subject them to his bullshit the same way his mother had. Donnie, wanting nothing more than to cultivate a warm, safe, family environment for his and Anita's child, got clean.

Now that he's in his early thirties, he knows that he doesn't need to have the conventional nuclear family to be happy. A happy family home doesn't look the same for everyone, and despite the fact that he's always stressing over being as good a dad to Emma as possible, he knows this. Family is whoever you feel safe with, family is whoever helps when you're at your worst, family isn't just blood. Donnie took a long time coming to this conclusion, and he still struggles with undoing the mess his mother made of his brain, but he's there. And he doesn't intend on backing away from it anytime soon.

For some quick-fire headcanons about Donnie's family members and his relationships with those family members, look no further!

𝑅𝐸: 𝑀𝐸𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑆𝐴 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fc : Willa Fitzgerald & Mary Mcdonnell. )

Melissa Rose was the youngest of five daughters. Her father detested the fact that his wife would only ever give him daughters when what he really wanted was sons. This made him angry, abusive, unfaithful, and a drunkard. Her father, Adam, was a Baptist pastor. His sermons were the very definition of 'Brimstone and Hellfire.' He was a stern but charming man, with an agreeable face and the picture-perfect family. He was all about image, and this attitude would stick with Melissa all her life.

She actually wanted to run away from Texas her whole life, she had dreams of becoming a Hollywood star. She was always told that she was pretty enough to be in the movies.

Melissa married Colton Watts on a total whim, their romance was an intense whirlwind of emotions and intimacy. She'd never been treated so kindly by a man before Colton came along. He promised her the world. And then he went to war.

When Colton returned home, he was a totally different man. He was emptier than she remembered him, and she was resentful. He would have weeks, even months, of being the happy-go-lucky sweetheart she'd married. Then he'd retreat into himself and would prefer to speak to the horses he cared for than he would to her.

Eleven years of unsteady marriage later, Brody Watts was born. The euphoria of being a new parent didn't last long, Colton would soon retreat back into the stables. The same would happen ten years later when Donovan was born.

After Colton's death, and after Brody ran away from his mother's venomous tongue, Melissa was left alone to raise her youngest son. She never called him Donnie, she would only ever call him Donovan.

Donnie, as a toddler, would actually prefer the company of his mother. He enjoyed being bounced on her hip while she went about the household chores. He enjoyed listening to her read. He found his father to be something of a ghost. However, he did run and hide under Brody's bed whenever she'd get into one of her bad moods. She was vicious, a caged animal unleashed on her family.

When Colton died, Donnie was seven. And Melissa fell hard into heavy drinking. Her fuse grew shorter, and even the smallest of mistakes made by Donnie would set her off. If he cried? She'd shout. If he spilt or dropped something? She'd shout. Without even realising it, Melissa had become her father.

Donnie grew older, more vocal, and pushed back against Melissa's temper. He was rewarded with violence, with unwarranted sermons. She would punish him by making him copy entire verses from the Bible by hand. She would take scissors to his hair whenever he refused to go and get it cut. Donnie's defensive, and often explosive temper, was born here. As was his desire to solve everything with his fists.

Melissa didn't hide what she thought of her son from him. She thought he was gay, and would tell him so. She would often fling slurs at him. She thought he was a sinful child, a demon given to her as punishment for running away from her family with his father. She would tell him this too.

She would also blame him routinely for his father's death. Something that Donnie still hasn't been able to shake.

Donnie was sent to a "summer camp" that the local church ran by his mother to "fix" his behaviour. The children would learn to camp, would learn to work, and would learn to be "more Christian" in their attitudes. It was essentially a behaviour retreat for delinquent kids. It was here that one of the pastors would assault Donnie.

The second he returned home, Donnie bypassed telling his mother anything and took himself straight to the local sheriff's station. He told them everything about the pastor, and about his mother. The sheriff was an old army friend of Colton's and had suspected that something was amiss for years. He was the one who saw to it that the social services took Donnie away from Melissa.

Donnie hasn't seen his mother since, and he hasn't heard from her since his eighteenth birthday. He doesn't even know if she's still alive or not, he hasn't thought to check. He's glad to have cut her out of his life, even if there has always been a longing in him to try and get through to her. Sometimes he misses her reading to him as a child, sometimes he misses her embrace. Sometimes he just wants his mom.

He only ever refers to her as 'mother' or 'Melissa.' Only in really vulnerable moments does he ever slip up and call her 'mom.'

A lot of Donnie's self-loathing stems from the way his mother treated him. A lot of Donnie's internal homophobia stems from his mother. A lot of Donnie's issues with his own masculinity stem from his mother. All of his issues with religion and the idea of a benevolent god stem from his mother's attitudes and the fact that she sent him away to that "summer camp." He's slowly coming to terms with this and feels so much resentment towards her for it that whenever she's mentioned he tends to get stiff and oddly quiet. It takes him a long time to learn to talk about her without feeling angry, and he does so for Emma's sake.

Donnie looks most like his mother, with her soft features, curly hair, and pretty green eyes. It's why he'd always take great offence to anybody ever calling him a girl when he was a teenager.

𝑅𝐸: 𝐶𝑂𝐿𝑇𝑂𝑁 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fc : Robert Redford. )

Colton was the middle child out of three. His older brother, Tristan, died in France, and his youngest brother, Michael, moved to Europe in the summer of forty-seven. His parents owned Dogwood Ranch, as many Watts had before them. It was the ancestral home of the Watts family.

He was raised Catholic, as many are in Longing.

He moved to Texas with his older brother to pursue a Rodeo career. Colton was a promising young Bronc rider and adored working with horses more than anything else. He also enjoyed playing guitar and singing. Music was always going to be a huge part of Donnie's life.

It was there he met Melissa Rose, who looked as though she'd just wandered off of a movie set. Colton was smitten with her, and she was smitten with him. They were young and reckless and felt invincible, and Colton wanted to give Melissa the world. They were married within six months, and, with Tristain's help, living on a plot of land in Copeville within the year.

Then he enlisted and went to war. Colton took his guitar with him to France and would sing for his fellow soldiers whenever he was able. He kept them entertained and happy despite the horrors they saw. He burned his candle at both ends and returned with bullet holes in his guitar, and holes in his heart.

He tried to fight the numbness with all his might. He tried to be present for his sons, but he'd often find himself feeling the chill of The Bulge even in the height of a Texan summer and would slip into his own mind for hours at a time.

To cope, Colton hid himself away in the shed or the stables, fearing what he might do if he was around his family for any longer than a few hours at a time. He could not trust his own body or mind.

As a result, his sons often saw him as a stranger. He tried to make up for it by teaching them guitar chords, showing them how to handle horses, or singing with them. He felt especially close to Donnie, who seemed to take better to his musical inclinations than Brody did. Brody seemed more interested in horses.

Donnie recalls several key moments with his father. Being taught to play the guitar, how to handle a gun, how to ride, how to be a Bronc rider, and being taken to Dallas when his father was due to meet with old war buddies.

Whenever talking about his father, Donnie often calls him his 'old man.' He seems to talk about him with far more respect than he ever does with his mother, despite feeling like he hardly knew him. Donnie also feels an affinity with his father now that he's an adult, especially since he's been through trauma and had to deal with the aftermath.

Donnie still owns his father's guitar, it's easily his most prized possession. He owned a silver signet ring with a cursive 'W' on it that his dad took with him to France and gave to Donnie for good luck. The ring had been in the Watts family for as long as anybody can remember. Donnie gives it to James Gallowes for good luck and as a symbol of his love for him.

In terms of appearance, Donnie takes after Colton's physical build. Looking at photographs of the two of them where their faces aren't visible, you could be forgiven for thinking it's the same person. Donnie also has his father's toothy smile and, according to Brody, Donnie's voice is freakishly similar to their dad's.

Donnie used to resent the fact that Colton put a bullet in his own mouth. It sent Brody away because it made Melissa worse.

𝑅𝐸: 𝐵𝑅𝑂𝐷𝑌 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fc : Charlie Hunnam. )

Brody is ten years older than Donnie. Has their mother's softer face shape like Donnie does, but the rest of his face is all Colton. Right down to the scruffy blond beard and pin-straight hair. Brody's whole demeanour is gruff, but kind. He's quick to smile and far more optimistic than his younger brother.

When they were kids, Brody would jokingly refer to Donnie as Yosemite Sam from Looney Tunes whenever Donnie lost his temper. It's why Donnie has a Yosemite Sam tattoo on his arm.

Brody always stepped in and took Donnie away from their mother whenever her temper would flare, and would play with him or read to him to keep him occupied. Sometimes he'd take Donnie up to the stables to look after the horses with him. In that way, Brody was more a parent to Donnie than their actual parents were.

At first, Donnie was confused when Brody took off after Colton's death. Then his mother got worse, and then he got angry at him for abandoning him with their mother. He was so angry that a month into being put into Brody and Cassidy's care, the two had a fight that almost came to blows. It didn't, because Brody outright refused to hurt Donnie anymore than he'd already been hurt. This made Donnie break down and cry. Brody held him and the two spoke about things more calmly.

This blowout didn't diffuse Donnie's resentment entirely, but it helped Donnie understand his brother's reasons for leaving.

The ten-year gap between the two meant that talking as brothers was often difficult for them. But Brody always did his best to be patient with Donnie, to be careful around his trauma and what might set him off. He would also cut through Donnie's moping and ensure that he wasn't self-sabotaging.

Brody also gives full embarrassing dad energy whenever Donnie's got friends over. He endearingly refers to Donnie, Lee and James as 'The Three Stooges.' James would also often find himself staying over at Dogwood Ranch after Donnie discovers that his uncle is mistreating him. Brody allows it because he really wants to encourage Donnie to be more emotionally vulnerable and have more friends.

Donnie and Brody love each other fiercely and will jump to one another's defence without question, even if they find it hard to have deep discussions without the help of a few beers.

Donnie hates disappointing Brody (and by extension, Cassidy), and so doesn't reach out to him for help when he should. He often needs pushing into contacting Brody by his bandmates whenever something's going wrong or he's struggling with Emma on his own.

Donnie's object permeance (yay ADHD!) extends to people. This means, that if things aren't in his immediate everyday life, he tends to neglect them. This makes him terrible at calling Brody and keeping in touch, thankfully, both Brody and Cassidy understand this and will often check in with him of their own volition.

𝑅𝐸: 𝐶𝐴𝑆𝑆𝐼𝐷𝑌 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fc : Freema Agyeman. )

Cassidy Jonas met Brody Watts and immediately fell in love. They bonded over a love of horses, rock music, and spicy food. They just clicked. Their friendship turned into love and ended with them married at the age of twenty-one. It was the most natural thing in the world.

Cassidy Watts was pregnant with twins when Donnie Watts crossed the threshold of Dogwood for the first time. He reminded her of her grandmother's three-legged cat, Nelson, who used to swipe at newcomers whenever they entered whichever room he happened to be sleeping in. He was jittery and jumped at every little noise. It broke her heart to learn what had happened to him, it made her angry too. Brody had to talk her out of driving to Copeville and giving Melissa Watts a piece of her mind. She couldn't conceive of ever hurting her children.

At first, Cassidy attempted to approach Donnie with kid gloves. That seemed to send him further into his shell. What seemed to appeal to him was being spoken to like an adult. A person in his own right. So she did. Because of the honesty between them, Donnie and Cassidy grew close.

Donnie had the messiest, most unhealthy head of curls when he came to Longing, and not a few months later, Cassidy had them styled and healthier than ever. Being a black woman with tight, coiled hair, she was perfectly qualified to help Donnie treat his curls properly. It was a long, careful routine that Donnie keeps to even now in his early thirties.

After the twins were born, Donnie took to being an uncle like a duck to water. He helped Cassidy with feeding them whenever Brody was out working, and would often keep them entertained when he wasn't out causing mischief with his new friends.

When Donnie's fifteen, Cassidy started to attend classes in hopes of becoming a Doctor or a Nurse, as she'd always dreamed of becoming one as a child.

If asked, Donnie would name Cassidy as the woman who raised him. She was the one who helped him out of panic attacks and soothed him whenever he couldn't sleep, she was the one who talked to him about his romantic feelings for James, she was the one who encouraged him to follow his heart after he graduated. She was also the person who put him in his place whenever he was letting his anger get the better of him.

Donnie almost exclusively calls Cassidy 'Cass', and it's always with the utmost affection. He adores her with his entire being.

Cassidy is also the first person Donnie comes out to, officially. She's the person he turns to whenever he finds himself stuck. He knows she won't judge him or think less of him for messing up. Neither would Brody, but Donnie isn't so confident with that knowledge. He's getting there.

𝑅𝐸: 𝐺𝐼𝑁𝐴 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐽𝑂𝑁𝐴𝐻 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fcs : undecided. )

Georgina and Jonah Watts are fraternal twins and are the only two children of Brody and Cassidy Watts. Donnie views the pair of them as his younger siblings.

The twins refer to Donnie as 'Don' or 'Uncle D' pretty much exclusively.

Gina falls in love with rock music because of her parents and falls deeper in love with metal and alternative music because of Donnie. Donnie often catches her rifling through his tapes when he's not keeping an eye on her. When he leaves Longing, he actually leaves the vast majority of his tapes and vinyl at Dogwood, so that Gina can listen to them. Gina also gifts Donnie with an Iron Maiden poster on his fourteenth birthday, Cassidy informs him that she wanted to give her uncle a present that meant a lot to him. He still has the poster now, it's in a frame on the wall of his office.

Jonah and Donnie bond over horses. Brody held no interest in actually participating in any kind of Rodeo events, and neither did Donnie, but Donnie knew a couple of tricks to help Jonah get started. He showed him how to ride and how to tend to the horses alongside Brody. Jonah also shares Donnie's love of Star Wars and sci-fi. He even starts to copy Donnie when Donnie starts keeping journals and writing things like song lyrics down. Jonah's got a big imagination and an even bigger heart. Donnie encourages him to feel things unapologetically and to talk to his parents when things are bothering him. When he leaves Dogwood, Donnie leaves a good chunk of his books with Jonah, knowing he'll take care of them.

Donnie misses a good chunk of the twins' milestones while he's touring with Rancid Creature, but that doesn't stop them from sending him letters and getting excited whenever he calls. He feels guilty for not being there more for them during this time, and he's always trying to make up for it, even though they hold no hard feelings over it.

Donnie also misses these milestones because he's too high, which he feels deeply ashamed of, despite the understanding he gets from Brody, Cass and the twins.

He might be terrible at calling, but Donnie has an uncanny ability to remember dates, even when he's deep in the throes of addiction and depression. He always sends thoughtful gifts and birthday cards/letters to his niece and nephew. He dedicates more than a couple of songs and awards for his music to them and their parents.

He's their favourite uncle, despite being their only uncle. And they will die defending him. They even show up to one of Rancid Creature's shows in Santa Fe to surprise him one year, and Donnie almost cries with happiness at seeing them. That's his little sister and his little brother! And he will die for them!

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Jesse Duquette :: @JRDuquette:: The US is a gun fetish cosplaying a country not overtaken by the death fantasies of inadequate men.

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

June 14, 2024

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

JUN 15, 2024

Today, former president Trump turned 78. For his birthday, Representative Greg Steube (R-FL) introduced a bill to name 4,383,000 square miles of the coastal waters off the United States over which the U.S. has sole authority, a region called the exclusive economic zone, the “Donald John Trump Exclusive Economic Zone of the United States.” 

A less welcome present was that the chief executive officers who attended a meeting with Trump in Washington yesterday told reporters they found him uninformed and unfocused. Christina Wilkie and Brian Schwartz of CNBC noted that the attendees dislike the Biden administration’s enforcement of antitrust laws, its price caps on drugs and medical products, and its promise of progressive tax policy and like Trump’s promise to slash regulations and cut taxes, so they went into the meeting hoping to support him.

One CEO left the meeting with the takeaway that “Trump doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” and several, Andrew Ross Sorkin of CNBC reported, said that he “was remarkably meandering, could not keep a straight thought [and] was all over the map.” He could not explain how he planned to accomplish any of the policies he was proposing. When asked why he had chosen a policy of bringing the corporate tax rate down to 20%, he allegedly answered: “Well, it’s a round number.” 

No one applauded Trump, attendees reported, in striking contrast to reports of the enthusiasm of Republican lawmakers yesterday. This difference underscores that Trump likely intended yesterday’s grandstanding to send a political message that Republican members of Congress support him despite his criminal convictions, while the lawmakers themselves were trying to show party unity at a time when they are bitterly divided. 

Also today, the Supreme Court handed down the Garland v. Cargill decision, which considered whether the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives (ATF) correctly determined that a device that dramatically increases the speed at which a semiautomatic weapon fires bullets, called a bump stock, could be prohibited under the law, originally passed in 1934, that outlawed machine guns. 

By a 6–3 vote, the Supreme Court said the ATF did not make that decision correctly and that bump stocks were not banned under the law.

After the Parkland, Florida, shooting of February 14, 2018, when Nikolas Cruz killed 17 people and injured 17 others at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, then-president Trump told reporters that he had been studying the issue of gun safety. This was his first articulated policy on that issue, and although the Parkland shooter did not use a bump stock, Trump said he had told then–attorney general Jeff Sessions to write regulations to ban bump stocks in October of the previous year, after a gunman using them had fired up to 1,000 rounds of ammunition in 11 minutes, killing 58 people and wounding about 500—two died later—at a Las Vegas music festival. 

By the time the ATF finalized a new rule on December 18, 2018, Sessions was gone and it was Acting Attorney General Matthew Whitaker who announced that bump stocks would be classified as a “machinegun” under federal law. The rule went into effect on March 26, 2019. People who owned bump stocks had to get rid of them, either by destroying them or by taking them to an ATF office. The ATF estimated that about 520,000 bump stocks needed to be destroyed. 

A Texas gun store owner, Michael Cargill, handed over his two bump stocks under protest and then sued the ATF, saying it did not have the authority to reclassify bump stocks. 

Today, in a majority opinion written by Justice Clarence Thomas, the Supreme Court dove deep into the mechanics of bump stocks to try to establish that they were not physically machine guns and that because of differences in the mechanical operations between true machine guns and bump stocks, the law did not prohibit bump stocks. ATF officials thus had no business defining bump stocks as they did in 2018, and those who want them can own them.

In a concurring opinion, Justice Samuel Alito wrote: “There is a simple remedy for the disparate treatment of bump stocks and machineguns. Congress can amend the law—and perhaps would have done so already if ATF had stuck with its earlier interpretation. Now that the situation is clear, Congress can act.” 

Indeed, if Congress truly reflected the will of the people, it would have acted on this issue years ago. A Pew poll from June 2023—when bump stocks were illegal—showed that 64% of Americans want assault-style weapons banned altogether, as they were between 1994 and 2004. But Republicans have increasingly fetishized guns as a symbol of individualism, and Republican senators have kept most gun safety legislation at bay by weaponizing the filibuster, which means that any legislation must have not simply a 51-vote majority to pass the Senate, but 60 votes.  

In other Supreme Court news, yesterday Senate Judiciary Committee chairman Dick Durbin (D-IL) released documents showing that Justice Thomas accepted at least three more trips from billionaire Republican donor Harlan Crow than had previously been known. 

And in other news concerning our nation’s horrific history of mass shootings and the political meaning of guns, today a federal judge ordered the liquidation of the personal assets of conspiracy theorist and InfoWars host Alex Jones to begin the payment he owes to the families of those murdered at Sandy Hook. For years, Jones told his followers that the shooting was a hoax to encourage restrictions on gun ownership, prompting harassment of the victims’ families. 

A jury in Texas and a jury in Connecticut awarded the families $1.5 billion in damages for defamation; Jones owns about $9 million of personal assets but will keep his $2.8 million home in Texas. The judge threw out an attempted reorganization of Jones’s company, Free Speech Systems, saying Jones’s creditors would recover more money in state courts. The families have sued Jones for hiding millions of dollars in assets. 

Reacting to the news of the Supreme Court’s decision in Garland v. Cargill, gun safety advocate David Hogg, who survived the Parkland shooting, wrote: “Ah yes because who doesn’t need the ability to freely turn a semiautomatic AR-15 into what in effect is a machine gun. This is f*cking insane.”

“We know thoughts and prayers are not enough,” President Biden said in his own statement about the Supreme Court’s decision, referring to the usual response of Republicans after a mass shooting. “I call on Congress to ban bump stocks, pass an assault weapon ban, and take additional action to save lives—send me a bill and I will sign it immediately.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[inapat17]

Text-screen relationships 1/4 - No country for old men: a book to a movie, a movie to a book

I'm interested in the relationship, in a broad sense, between text and image. In this case, I'm looking at the case of a book brought to the screen. One is a book written by Cormac McCarthy, and the other is a movie directed by the Coen brothers. For me, No country for old men is a special case of a book adapted to cinema, because the Cohen brothers’ film respects McCarthy’s original work while transcending it to create a new one.

A book with cinematic qualities

No country for old men tells the story of the aftermath of a drug deal gone wrong near the Mexican border in southwest Texas. This tragic circumstance sends the three central characters in pursuit of each other: Llewelyn Moss has found and taken a suitcase full of money; he is being pursued by the killer Anton Chigurh; and their two intertwined leads are being followed by old Sheriff Ed Tom Bell. In No Country, McCarthy writes about the depravity of America by capitalism, and about a world irreparably destroyed, broken and torn apart by the violence of wars (all three characters are war veterans: Vietnam or WWII).

The Coen brothers like the book for its darkness and noisy violence, as well as for being set in American space.

For them, the setting plays a central role. Whether it is Arizona in Raising Arizona, Minnesota in Fargo, Los Angeles in Barton Fink and The Big Lebowski, New York in The Hudsucker Proxy or Texas in Blood Simple.  Each film defines a territory, and this is often what justifies the action. So, the story is always intimately linked to the setting and the protagonists are thus regularly captive of their environment.

In No Country, it’s Texas and its scorching plains, which is both a concentration of the country’s historical memory and the birthplace of the Western. The evocations of the frontier and the wilderness run through all the Coen brothers' films. Indeed, they join McCarthy in depicting Texas as a frontier, a primitive and violent space that bears the legacy of the conquest of the West and reminds us that the United States was built on violence. And here it’s both the historical border, that of the settlement of the West, and the contemporary border, that of the 1980s. So, here, man’s main adversary is indeed the country, as evoked in the title: a primitive territory haunted by the ghost of past violence and the spectre of future violence.

The opening of No Country for old men, reminiscent of John Ford’s westerns (The Searchers, 1956).

The Coen brothers’ film is therefore the result of the understanding of a literary universe, its specificities, its atmosphere, its tone, and its style that gives the illusion of fidelity.

The Coen's adaptation was incredibly successful, especially because the film is considered to be very faithful to the novel. Indeed, the brothers are guided by respect for the authors, but they don't stupidly adapt classic literary works, they are rather in the same line as François Truffaut who spoke of "establishing an intimate relationship" between literature and cinema.

Indeed, the particularity of No Country is that it was a script before a novel. The text is therefore placed under the sign of orality. The dialogues are relatively short and not very punctuated. This is a point that strongly contributes to the film's fidelity to the text since the Coens did not need to rewrite scenes or dialogue.

However, the rhythm of the film contrasts with that of the novel. Indeed, the film is slower: the scenes and shots are long, whereas the novel has a more breathless rhythm.

And what the Coen bring to the original text is above all their dark and offbeat humour. This can be felt in the astonishment of some of the characters and in the transformation of certain situations. Also, by the camera angles, the editing, the music (or lack thereof).

But since it is impossible to turn 309 pages into two hours of film, the Coens had to cut out some of the subplots, thus creating many ellipses. But these ellipses are often related to the character of Chigurh, which makes him even more enigmatic than he is in the novel. So I would like to try to study Chigurh as a figure. I think he is the most interesting aspect of the film from a cinematographic point of view, since he is the very best example of the intermediality between literature and cinema.

From the literary figure to the cinematographic figure

Indeed, in McCarthy’s novel, Chigurh is presented as an allegorical personification of evil incarnate. Sheriff Bell refers to him as a “prophet of destruction”.  Chigurh is thus presented as an elusive figure, as a “ghost” (to quote Sheriff Bell again). And throughout the film, Chigurh is consistently associated with extreme shots, unnatural angles and perspectives, which give the character a supernatural quality. Most significantly, Chigurh is introduced as a faceless figure filmed from the back, then he is repeatedly filmed as a silhouette or a shadow.

And it’s through the power of cinema that Chigurh can fully embody himself as a spectre, a figure of the in-between, both actual and virtual.

Anton Chigurh is thus already a purely cinematic figure in McCarthy's novel.

Chigurh regularly appears in reflections: on mirrors or car windows for example.