#move texas

[hymnsofheresy]

everytime i tell europeans my favorite cuisine is texmex & sonoran they are like “American bastardized Mexican food?” and i feel like im going insane. its not bastardized. its their fucking cuisine.

[hyuckonia]

very first 10 seconds of the tsum event and Kalim getting beaned by his tsum and lilia was like "oh guess i wasnt fast enough to stop it myb bro" SHUT UPPPDNAHAAJHA KALIMS SCREAM HAD ME LAUGHING SO HARD I WAS GUNNA CRY whatever i love them so badLMAOOOOO

[eerie-candid]

Little Big Brother Drayton

Can be carried because he weighs like 100 pounds

[why-bless-your-heart]

I love animation so much but I have little time and negative energy so this is all you get.

[mauswyx]

old ties, new beginnings [ch.2]

Thomas Hewitt x f!reader: ch1 // ch3

TLDR: By chance, Thomas encounters someone from his past and gets to be treated like a normal guy for an afternoon–except he doesn't want the treatment to stop. [pt.2]

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

CW: mention of past trauma/abuse, slight nudity

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“I’m really glad you remember me...”

She was sitting with her legs sprawled out in front of her while she leaned back onto her hands, staring out over the lake-top as the warm breeze gently weaved through her hair. The lake was practically still, save for a few ducks that had flown down; she watched as they preened their feathers and dove for fish.

Thomas gave a low hum to let her know he had heard her; he was sitting cross-legged a meter or so behind her, pulling at the grass around him. The ever looming thought of what he’d have to do made him nervous. A part of him hoped you’d excuse yourself right now and leave; Hoyt would find you—take you back to the house and you’d just be cattle again. It would be easier that way. He could put on his face and you’d never know it was him…your dying thoughts wouldn’t be hate for him. The image of you dying caused a pain in his chest; the pain only worsened when the thought of you calling out for him, begging him to save you flooded his mind. Would your final words be his name on your tongue? To his horror, the idea excited him. You had been nothing but compassionate towards him–a beacon of warmth when all anyone else had done was treat him like an animal, a beast. And here he was, daydreaming about slaughtering you.

With a slight groan you pulled your stiff legs to your chest, snuggly wrapping your arms around them with a satisfied purr. His shirt rode up your thighs and rested around your hips, slightly exposing your bottom; with a grunt he darted his eyes away from your flesh. He didn’t deserve to look at you in such a way–not when he was going to be the one to wipe you from this earth. His fists clenched at the dead grass as the situation weighed on him; he didn’t want to do it. He really didn’t. He wanted to stay in this moment forever–wanted to live in a time where you wanted his company, content to sit in his presence without fear or judgment. In this moment you were alive. Alive with him. 

He looked to the sky, to whatever god Mama had long since given up on getting him to pray to, for an answer. No one else had ever done the things you had done and it had to mean something. It had to.

It had been him to stumble upon you, no one else, like you were a gift left by the heavens waiting just for him. His. Straightening his back and releasing his grip on the grass, the thought dawned on him. You could be his. Everyone else seemed to have their own company–be it sisters, pets, or working girls–so why couldn’t he? He could be good to you: he would treat you much better than a pet and substantially better than the way Hoyt treated his guests. 

He’d take care of all your needs–you’d be his responsibility, he was the one inaugurating you after all. You’d be well fed, he wouldn’t rest until you had a full stomach every night; you’d never get bored, sitting in with Mama and his aunt on their lunchins or more realistically tending to your own chores around the homestead; and though he, himself, didn’t really care for bathing, he figured a respectable woman such as yourself would, so he’d make sure you had every opportunity to stay clean; the house had many rooms but most of them were filled with clutter so you’d have to wait a bit before getting your own room. He pondered for a moment, thinking about what room would suit you best; he liked the idea of you having one of the rooms with the fancy windows that Mama once cherished. In the meantime, you’d have to stay in his room…have to share a bed with him too. His fingers twitched at the thought of sleeping next to you. He had to physically shake his head, when the thought of you waiting-up for him at night after a hard day's work–unable to sleep without him crept into his head; he couldn’t get distracted by such thoughts, there was still so much left to work-out.

You had sealed your fate upon entering the town’s border; in his heart-of-hearts, Thomas knew this was the only way to keep you alive and that’s all he wanted; that’s all that mattered. You’d definitely need some adjusting to their way of life–you were a saint but he knew not even you could understand right away why they needed to do the things they did, but you could learn. He’d keep you alive–even if it killed you.

The sound of a sniffle pulled him from his plotting.

You had hidden your face in the crook of your arms that now rested atop your knees, while he had thought out his plan. Oh no. What had he done? Did you finally realize how disgusting he was and were mortified to be with him? Had you said something personal and he had ignored you–too caught up in his own world? How could he be so selfish! He let out a whine as his thoughts ran wild with possibilities of what he could’ve done to upset you. It felt as though his very world was crumbling around him–keeping you needed the foundation of you not despising him.

“I’m sorry…” you huffed out, raising your head to wipe at your eyes, “I’m just…I’m sorry!” The tears began flowing freely despite your efforts to contain them. You felt pathetic for crying, you had nothing to cry about when it was Thomas who had been the victim.

“They were so c-cruel to you-ou,” you hiccuped through sobs, “and I did noth-hing!”

For years you had watched as they had treated him less-than the dirt beneath their feet and you had been too much of a coward to even defend him. To even console him. Having only been a child did little to console you: even at such a young age, you knew what they were doing was wrong and you still chose to turn a blind eye. You were no better than any of the other children who had run away from him or the townspeople who had mistreated him; you knew you deserved whatever punishment they had coming. Had he not only been just a child, as well? How was it fair for him to be treated like a walking-disease, merely for being different, while other children got to live normal lives at no cost at all. It was maddening and the guilt for not having done anything to prevent his abuse or ease it was tearing you apart. 

“Oh Thomas, I’m so sorry! You didn’t deserve-”

The words died in your throat as the sound of settling grass alerted you of his presence. He was kneeling next to you now, holding out an uncertain hand mere centimeters away from your face. His hand was formed as though he was intending to cup your face but wanted permission. His stormy eyes couldn’t keep yours as he shifted his gaze around nervously. How could he be so considerate towards you? He should hate your very being. You wanted to turn your head away from him, you didn't deserve his comfort. He should just leave you to rot! But you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away; choking back a sob, you leaned into his touch–allowing him to bring you solace. He wasted no time in sweeping your guilty tears away with the pad of his thumb and gently massaging at your temple. His tender care only made you want to cry more.

Thomas couldn’t help but admire how bewitching you looked while you cried softly against his hand: wet eyelashes pressed against puffy-flushed cheeks and cherry-red lips turned into a soft pout. And when your eyes opened, to peer into his own–he hated to think it but you truly did look pitiful. Looking up at him like he was the only thing that could soothe your pain. The tight feeling in his chest returned. He didn’t care about the past, or rather he didn’t care about what you didn’t do in the past. He knew what you did do and that was enough for him. Everyone else’s actions had nothing to do with you so how could he fault you, the only person to ever treat him like he was worthy of some human decency? He had grown accustomed to the insults and the physical tormenting stopped when he hit his growth spurt; those that continued to pester him after which were no more significant than gnats buzzing in his ear. Even now when unruly cattle would hurl insults at him, he knew it was all meaningless. At the end of the day they were still just that–cattle. To Thomas, you had done nothing wrong and there was no need for you to apologize–it only crushed him to see you so distraught over something you had no control over.

Overcome with emotion, he leaned closer to you and let out a whine into your hair. 

The unexpected proximity was startling, Thomas had all but engulfed you into himself. Though you didn’t mind. He was warm and smelled of musk and something else you couldn’t quite place–it was almost metallic. The smell was comforting nonetheless. You leaned into him–absent mindlessly closing the small gap in between you–grazing your nose just under where his mask met his skin, trying to figure out what that smell was. The sudden contact must have startled Thomas as you felt him tense around you, but he made no move to remove himself from you.

“Is this ok?” you breathed out, not wanting to take advantage of his goodwill. You could feel the rumble in his throat and his hair tickle your face as he gave a singular-short nod.

With your new allowance, you leaned fully into him: tucking your arms in between you as you grasped at his stained-shirt, burrowing your face against his neck to ride out the remainder of your tears.

“I really am sorry…” you muttered against his skin, you could feel him shiver but you couldn’t bring yourself to move away. He was warm and the skin-contact was soothing. His breathing was heavy and you could feel another rumble pass through his throat as he just barely grazed against the now-dry shirt on your back–giving you time to push him away–before settling against you. You could feel as he moved to lean his own head against yours, his warm breath showered against your ear. You stifled another sob against him with a whine, this awkward side hug was far more than you deserved.

A fire burned in Thomas’s chest as he clutched you closer to himself. In this moment, with this small act, you had proven to him that he was correct: you were different and there was no doubt about it–you being brought back to him was so that he could make you his. And he would be damned if anyone tried to take you away from him. 

The sun felt warm against your skin and the heat that Thomas expelled only heightened it, your earlier swimming and recent crying fit had finally worn you out. Your eyes fought against the pull of sleep, but ultimately the rise and fall of Thomas's chest against you lulled you into the unconscious abyss.

[momowoah]

Kenny and JLH saying Ryan will have good acting moments this season... Shannon coming back... Eddie having important scenes/storylines towards the end of the season... Christopher, Buck and the Diaz family all on set together in what could very well be a hospital... will reveal, near death coma dream spec... recent catholic guilt arc............. what if what if what if

[otrtbs]

girl loser era is over you are now looking at the collections and exhibitions specialist at [REDACTED] museum in [REDACTED]

[hauntedjohnny]

SISSY SLAUGHTER EXECUTION PACK III

[sincenewyorks]

something about watching the rwrb movie soon and knowing they get their happy ending and are married just makes me happy

[zooophagous]

I love Minnesota. I think it's honestly some of the most beautiful countryside in the world. The people are friendly and the political climate is fair. But God dammit does the winter ever make me want to leave.

[guardian-angle22]

911 LONE STAR REWATCH 2024 -> MY FAVORITE SCENES | Owen recruiting Paul in 1.01 Pilot

[shitouttabuck]

what if i wrote a twisters au……….

[missathlete31]

New York Moves video on Glen!

[coldswarkids]

everything is booked for christmas:

fly to hometown to surprise dad for bday

immediately back to home to spend christmas with bf's family

fly to texas to meet bf's closest friends and spend new year's

[xiaq]

How is Denver so far compared to Austin?

I quite prefer Denver, but I'm biased for a few reasons.

Austin makes me sad. Austin now is not the Austin I grew up in/the Austin I loved. And nostalgia for a place that no longer exists while still technically existing leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Did you know that the greenbelt and all its trails and climbing walls used to feature a creek that never dried up? The level might fluctuate, but it ran all year round, fed by springs from the aquifer. You could climb until you got overheated and then go sit in the water for a bit to recover. Now, after years of extreme heat, persistent droughts, and people pumping water out of the aquifer, it's just miles of dry rock with small trees growing in it, that occasionally floods when it rains. I can't climb there without feeling...I don't even know how to describe it. Like I'm walking over the corpse of an old friend.

Denver gives us a community. In Denver, we live in a walkable/bikable community within 2 miles (or much less) of our grocery store, restaurants, a gluten-free bakery, coffee shops, our climbing gym, and several friends. I've seen more people in person in the last three weeks here than I did in the previous 3 months in Austin. One of my friends jogs by every afternoon. Others live at the park I walk Deacon to in the mornings. People just...drop in to see us/how house renovations are going spur-of-the-moment because they were literally walking by/on their way home. Community is so important to me and I have that here in a way I didn't in Austin.

Terrain. Texas is so damn flat. I get a thrill driving to Home Depot here because I can see mountains in the distance. Our rooftop deck looks at the mountains. I can be in the mountains after a less than 30-minute drive. I had to drive for hours to get to a hill in Austin. Here, mountains are just...present in a comforting way.

The seasons. Austin doesn't have seasons. Here, we have gorgeous sunny weather most of the time but the trees change color in the fall and we currently have snow! Deacon LOVES snow. Probably even more than me. There is something so delightful about taking a walk while it's snowing. When the whole world is quiet and white and still. Even after living in one of the snowiest places in the US for a year, snow is still so novel to me. Big fan.

Travel. I can walk to the train station from our house, which will take me to the airport in 25 minutes. And Denver is a hub for Southwest which means tons of direct flights at low costs (to places like Austin!). I also have a companion pass for Southwest, which means I can take B (or anyone else I please) with me for free on any Southwest flight. Which is very handy. B's mom has already visited us twice (coming again this weekend) because there are quick direct flights from Phoenix she can take advantage of. The negatives are the cost of living and the fact that the homeless population is large and the city doesn't seem to have the appropriate resources (or perhaps willingness) to address it. But those are both issues that plague Austin as well. The only thing I miss about Austin is the ability to see my parents whenever I want. My mom is coming to visit in two weeks and we're hoping to coax my dad out when it warms up a bit (and we have the guest rooms ready), but I definitely miss them.

[entropy404]

you can take a boy out of midwest emo but you can’t take the midwest emo out of a boy