#teeny little texas man

[cntoesussie]

hell yeah Texan Thursday Love this man

[stardustrebels]

More of You- Chapter 3

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

WC: 2.6k

Rating: 18+ for eventual smut, MDNI

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Summary: After a devastating betrayal and loss, you left everything behind on the East Coast and promised yourself a fresh start in Austin, Texas. Independence as your new mantra, you vow never to let anyone too close again. Then you meet Joel Miller- a man whose warmth and Southern charm makes it hard to stick to your resolve. As your feelings deepen, you’re forced to confront your past- and question if letting someone in again is worth the risk. 

Tags: No outbreak!AU. Coffee shop meet-cute with a slow-ish burn. Sickly sweet fluff with eventual smut. I wanted to write something that gave me the warm fuzzies, and I am kicking my feet and giggling while I write this. Joel Miller just deserves a good life, you know? Joel and reader have a teeny tiny age gap- Joel is 42, reader is mid 30s. Sarah is 19. No use of Y/N, minimal descriptions of reader. She has hair long enough to tie back and she wears skirts and dresses.

A/N: I'm really beginning to enjoy writing again, and this fic has really become the highlight of my holiday season. If you're reading this little story, thank you from the bottom of my heart- I really hope you enjoy it! Maybe these two idiots will actually manage to speak to each other in the next chapter. We can but hope, eh?

Your heart sank a little the next day when you arrived and the table where the handsome Mr. Miller had been the day before was empty. You tried to ignore the little stab of disappointment as you ordered, and sat down in your usual spot, scanning the rest of the tables for any sign of him and told yourself to stop being absurd. You were disappointed because, what, a handsome man in a coffee shop wasn’t there to shoot you half-smiles while you ogled at him? 

Despite the internal scolding you were giving yourself, you kept glancing at the clock as you worked. He’d been here early the last two days. You guessed before his 9-5. You absently wondered what he did for work. Nothing about his phone call yesterday had given it away. You figured if he didn’t show in the next fifteen minutes, then he wasn’t going to. 

Despite your clock-watching, you managed to get a good chunk of your own work done. You’d brought your drawing tablet today and were digitising another logo based on some sketches you’d done the night before. It helped distract you, at least that’s what you told yourself. Every now and then, your eyes darted to the door or scanned the empty tables around you. Each time, the knot of disappointment in your stomach tightened a little more. 

By the time you’d finished outlining the design, an hour had passed and you were resigned to the fact that he wasn’t coming. You felt foolish. He was just some guy whose morning routine had coincidentally, temporarily overlapped with yours. A thought struck you then, harsh and clanging: you hadn’t noticed a wedding ring on his hand. 

Had you even looked?

Your stomach turned at the realisation. No, you hadn’t. You were hit with a sudden shame, laced with biting hypocrisy. Too caught up in a fanciful daydream without stopping to consider the most basic facts. For all you knew, he could have a wife, kids, a whole life that had nothing to do with you and never would. 

You let out a sigh and set down your tablet with as much care as your exasperation would allow, irritated with yourself. You glanced around at the other customers in the coffee shop, caught up in their own busy morning routines and told yourself to let it go. You shook your head in an attempt to clear the thoughts. There was no point in spiralling over a complete stranger. Maybe it was better this way; a stark reminder to stick to the plan you’d promised yourself. This was just the universe’s way of making sure you stuck to it. The universe was a dick, you concluded.

Another fifteen minutes passed, and you were mulling over whether you would be better off finishing your work for the day at home. You were not, you told yourself firmly, going back to your apartment to sulk. 

The chair scraped lightly against the floor as you shifted to begin packing up your things. Just as you reached for your tablet, the bell over the door jingled and a gust of warm air swept in to the shop. 

You glanced up reflexively, and your stomach swooped. There he was. As if you’d summoned him with the sheer force of will. Mr. Miller. 

He stepped up to the counter, his broad flannel-clad shoulders framed by the morning light spilling in behind him. His dark hair was slightly mussed, as if he’d been running his hands through it. He looked harassed, and didn’t return the cheery smile the barista offered as he ordered.

It might have been wishful thinking, but his expression looked faintly apologetic as he glanced over at you, before turning toward his usual table. He ran a hand through his unruly curls as he glanced down at his phone, frowning. He caught your eye again and you offered him a small smile. The furrow in his brow lessened and he smiled back. He draped his jacket over the back of the chair in front of him and hesitated before he pulled it out to sit. He took a step away from his table towards you and your eyebrows shot up- was he actually coming over here? Was he going to talk to you? You were struck with a sudden panic;  heat rising up the back of your neck as you tried to look nonchalant. Before you could gather any kind of coherent thought, a familiar voice rang out from somewhere behind him.

“Hello, stranger!” 

You looked up, startled, and watched as he paused awkwardly mid-stride. You resisted the urge to laugh at the absurdity of the situation as the source of the voice bounded past him, her dark curls bouncing as she moved, a bright smile plastered across her face. You would recognise that voice anywhere.

“Summer, hi!”

A genuine smile spread across your face despite the unexpected interruption as you stood and pulled her in to a hug. Summer was the one good friend you’d made since moving to Austin- a whirlwind of energy and unfiltered opinions who, after a brief but unforgettable drunken conversation, had taken you under her wing. 

You’d been sitting quietly at a bar the night that you met her, nursing a drink and privately celebrating your first freelance client. It was a small victory, but one you were determined to savour, even if it was in solitude. Summer had appeared like a bolt of lightning, plopping down on the stool next to yours with a conspiratorial grin. 

“Celebrating alone? That’s tragic. Me too,” She’d declared, flagging down the bartender before you could respond. Her confidence had been disarming, and you found yourself telling her all about the new client and how you’d only just moved to Austin a few weeks ago and didn’t know anyone. “You do now!” She’d said happily, clinking her glass against yours. 

From that night on, Summer had been a constant in your life. She dragged you out of your apartment for brunches, happy hours and art shows. She’d shown you the best thrift stores, the hidden coffee spots, and the parts of the city you’re sure you would have never found on your own. And despite her tendency to bulldoze through social norms with her exuberance and complete lack of filter, she’d become someone you’d quickly considered a true friend. 

“You are not going to believe the morning I’ve had,” Summer said, flopping in to the chair across from you without waiting for an invitation. “I am officially in the market for a new job. Again.”

As happy as you were to see her, as she chatted away you couldn’t help but sneak glances over to the other table when you thought Summer wouldn’t notice. Your heart sank slightly as, not long after he’d arrived, he shot back the last mouthful of coffee and made moves to leave. You tried to keep the disappointment from showing on your face. 

“You’re distracted,” Summer said suddenly, pulling your attention back. 

“What? No I’m not.”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving in to a smirk. You opened your mouth to protest further, but the words stuck in your throat. Your eyes flitted back over to the table over her shoulder and her eyes followed yours, and before you could stop her, she turned in her seat to look. You didn’t dare take your eyes from her as she snapped her head back to you, curls flying conspicuously.

“Huh. Well, I don’t blame you. He is pretty distracting.” Summer murmured, looking back again in a way that was anything but subtle. You hissed her name through your teeth, mortified. 

“What? He’s hot,” she said,  shrugging unapologetically as she turned back to you again. “And he’s looking over here.” 

You felt your cheeks heat, and you busied yourself with your coffee. “He’s not looking over here.” 

“He totally is,” she insisted, leaning in with a mischievous glint in her eye.

You hesitated, glaring half-seriously at her over your coffee cup, weighing up whether to throw gasoline on this particular fire. You leaned in, fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sketchbook. Summer smiled sweetly at you from across the table, hands clasped under her chin, eyes wide with anticipation.

“He comes in here a lot,” You murmured across the table, setting your coffee down, “Every day, in fact. We’ve… smiled at each other a few times.” You said, only realising how ridiculous it all was when the words left your mouth.

Summer laughed and dragged a hand down her face dramatically. 

“Oh my stars, you’ve smiled at each other? Alert the church elders!” she said, her eyes glinting in a way you didn’t like. “Next time he looks over, wave him over here. I’ll do it for you if you-” 

“No!” You said quickly, ignoring the fact that you saw his head snap up to look at your you in your peripheral. Your heart was suddenly pounding in your chest. 

“Don’t you dare. Summer,” you pleaded, “I mean it.”

Summer laughed again, but held up her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, fine. I won’t.” 

You sighed in relief as he went through his usual leaving ritual, stealing glances as he shrugged on his jacket, checked his watch and carried his empty coffee cup to the counter.

“I wonder what his name is,” Summer said as she watched him leave, her head tilted as she admired him before turning back to you with a sly smile. “Bet it’s something rugged like Jack or Keith.”

You giggled and relaxed a little back in your seat now that there was no danger of him overhearing you, or Summer talking to him on your behalf. 

“His surname’s Miller,” You said on impulse. You shrugged and blushed slightly at the expression Summer shot you. “I overheard him on the phone yesterday.”

“Why didn’t you say?” She groaned, grabbing her phone from the table. She tapped furiously at the screen, her brow furrowed with concentration. You sipped your coffee, watching her with a mix of amusement and unease. 

“What are you doing?” You asked warily. 

“Finding him, obviously,” she replied without looking up. 

“Summer, no,” you protested, leaning forward as if you could somehow stop her through sheer force of will. “That’s creepy!”

“It’s not creepy; it’s resourceful!” She countered happily, lips twitching in to a grin. “If you spend every day pining over this guy, you might as well find out who he is.” 

You groaned, sinking back in to your chair. “I’m not pining.” 

Summer raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue. A few seconds later, she let out a triumphant noise and turned her phone screen toward you. “Miller Construction,” she announced. “That him?” 

You reluctantly leaned forward, your stomach flipping as you scanned the screen. There, under a sleek header for Miller Construction: Consultation & Project Management, was a row of polished photos of the company’s leadership team. 

Your heart thudded against your ribs as you spotted him. His hair was neater, his beard was shorter and he was maybe slightly younger, but it was unmistakably him, smiling at you from the screen. You smiled back at his picture despite yourself, ignoring the flips your stomach was doing. You blinked at the name under his photo.

Joel Miller. 

Summer grinned wickedly, turning the phone back to look. 

“Told you it’d be rugged,” she said, putting on a deeper voice and waggling her eyebrows at you, “Jack. Keith. Joel.”

You laughed, watching as Summer scrolled through the website, her eyes darting about the screen. “If he’s here tomorrow you have to speak to him. Introduce yourself. He clearly wants you to,” she said, flicking her eyes back up to you. 

“I don’t know, Summer. He’s probably married or-”

“No ring,” Summer interrupted, wiggling her left hand at you “First thing I checked.” 

You rolled your eyes at her, but your face felt hot. 

“I’m supposed to be focusing on myself, Summer,” you said, before draining your coffee cup, “I don’t have time for-”

“For what?” Summer interrupted you, “Who says it has to be anything serious? He’s gorgeous, seems polite enough, owns a thriving business apparently. You should just let yourself have a bit of fun once in a while.” 

You stared down at your empty coffee cup and bit your lip as Summer continued, “Life’s too short to pass up an opportunity like that,” she said, locking her phone and placing it back down on the table.

“You’re incorrigible,” you said, throwing her a weak smile. 

“And you’re stubborn,” She shot back, grinning at you fondly. 

“Anyway, you jobless wonder” you said, eager to move the conversation on, “tell me everything that’s happened since I last saw you.” 

Summer left an hour later, only after you agreed to join her for brunch at the weekend. You packed up your things and headed home with every intention of diving back in to your work, but your focus wavered the moment you walked through the door. Your space felt unusually quiet; the hum of your appliances doing little to fill the void. You threw open a window to let the buzz of the city float in before you set up at your desk, determined to finish the logo you’d been working on this morning. It was no use, after ten minutes you’d made zero progress. The pen sat idly in your hand against the tablet. You pushed back from the desk, rubbing your temples, and tried not to think about Joel Miller. 

The memory of his hesitant step toward you in the coffee shop replayed in your mind. The furrow in his brow, the way his eyes had softened when you caught his gaze- it was maddening how much detail your brain had decided to cling to.

Before you knew it, you’d typed “Miller Construction Austin” in to your browser search bar. A moment later, the company website loaded, clean and professional with bold, simple fonts. The homepage featured photos of their completed projects and a blurb about the company. You clicked through to the “About Us” tab at the top of the page without a second thought.  

And there he was. Joel Miller, listed as founder and co-owner. Dressed in a nice suit and tie, dimples framing his easy smile. The image was a different side of him than you’d seen in the coffee shop, but his eyes were the same- dark chestnut pools filled with a warmth that made your chest tighten. 

Your finger hovered over the x on the tab, ready to close it, but you didn’t. Instead, you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms as if putting some distance between yourself and the man staring back at you from the screen would somehow untangle the knot in your chest. 

You’re unsure whether Summer had done you any favours by finding him, by giving him more of a weight in the world. You might have been better off with the limited information you’d had before. With a heavy sigh, you finally closed the tab and shut your laptop. You sat for a moment, staring out the window as the sun set over the city.

You allowed yourself a moment to reflect on your experiences so far here in Austin. You’d arrived here without any kind of plan beyond ‘find somewhere to live’, and ‘make money so you don’t starve’, and everything seemed to be going okay so far. You considered Summer; you always aspired to be more like her- less anxious and worried, more impulsive and hedonistic. You were working on it. It was a slow process. 

You pushed away from the desk and stood, stretching your arms above your head, pushing away deep internal conversation and instead wondering what to have for dinner. 

By the time you climbed in to bed later that night, you’d worked through some of the thoughts bouncing around inside your head, and settled on the rationalisation that you often forgot: that life would unfold as it always did, in its own time, no matter how much you tried to steer it.

For now, you’d let the day end and see where tomorrow took you.

Next Chapter

[charleslee-valentine]

For The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Fan Event Day 2: The Family House

Ship(s): None

Word Count: ~2,800

Warnings: Child abuse, miscarriage mention, spousal abuse, injury, trauma.

@texas-chainsaw-fanworks

_____

5+1 Things- Five times the Sawyer Family wasn’t happy. Plus the one time they were.

#5

Mama’s six months pregnant when she can’t go to work anymore.

It’s not her first baby since Drayton, but this little one will be the first to make it this long. Every night before bed, nine year old Drayton Sawyer kneels at the side of his bed, and prays and prays that his little sibling will be okay. Not that he’d stop getting hit. Not that they’d get more money. Just that that baby will be okay.

The part Drayton really doesn’t like is that they have to move to get mama help. Without working and all, she can’t afford the little place they’ve been staying in, so she decided to take up some space with grandpa.

Once they arrive, any anguish Drayton had, it triples on the spot.

The house is huge. He’s already the one who cleans it all up, Mama’s too busy to do it all. No he’ll be forced to do the impossible task of keeping a giant farm house clean and cared for, all by himself.

He asks her, “Are you sure we hafta stay here?”

But it’s ignored, brushed off. He’s forced to shake hands with his grandpa and run upstairs with all the bags they’d brought.

Might as well do a little exploring.

He hopes he can have the bedroom at the back. It’s empty, save for a desk by the window, but the room is tucked way off in the corner by itself. He’d finally have his own space.

He leaves his bag in there and ventures off to disappointment. The rooms by the bathroom on the other side of the hall are bigger, but he doesn’t want to share a room with Mama no more, she snores too loud when she’s been drinking and passes out.

It doesn’t happen much now that there’s gonna be a baby.

Drayton wonders where baby will go. Maybe downstairs somewhere? But oh how he doesn’t want to go back down there. Drayton wants to curl up and hide somewhere forever. He isn’t ready to be given a work list already, so soon after traveling half the state to get here.

The boy sits on the very top step at the landing, and looks about, noticing cobwebs and dirt just about everywhere, even in the fur of the trophy pelts hanging on the wall. Of course he’ll be the one cleaning that later. He rolls his eyes and sighs as quietly as he can.

From here, looking down at the first floor of the house, he feels like nobody can tell him what to do.

~~~~

#4

Daddy’s back.

He wants rights to his daughter, little Sissy Sunshine they call her.

Hair the color of angel dust and sunflowers. Not like Drayton’s ugly, dark features according to Mama.

Drayton takes the baby outside when he can, or off to another room to play with blocks or something. So long as he lives, daddy ain’t coming nowhere close to the one and a half year old girl.

He puts a little teeny sunhat on her and carries her with him, in a hand fashioned carrier for the girl. It’s just a burlap sack with a string woven through and an old bag strap sewn on, but it works better than letting her roam while he works outside. She has to stay away when it comes to the heavy duty stuff, she can stay in her little bouncer toy then, but today’s just poking around in the front garden and trying to get the bushes and flowers to cooperate.

A little smudge of dirt on her pretty pale cheek won’t hurt nothing. ‘Sides, she’ll be helping Drayton run this place one day. Not like the adults around are goin’ to do a damn thing.

Baby Sissy stares up at him and smiles with her tiny, gappy teeth. He focuses intently on burying the roots of the gardenias and acts like he doesn’t notice.

Until. The sound of glass shattering in the house. Profane screaming. Anguish and hatred pouring out every gap in the house, under doors and through windows and boiling out of the chimney.

Who coulda guessed that the man that pointed a gun to mama’s head ain’t the right choice to open her legs for again. Drayton hates them both.

Sometimes he wishes they’d just kill each other and get it over with.

The baby starts to sniffle like she can read those thoughts. Like she knows Drayton is every bit the monster the scary grown ups are. He feels guilty.

Grimacing, he wrenches out of the firepoke gloves he was pretending were for gardening, tossing them aside and cradling the back of her fragile blonde head.

“Hush, now. Just.. Just quiet on down.”

He’s just barely a teenager. How the hell is he supposed to know how to calm a crying baby? It doesn’t work and she starts hollering her little head off.

Drayton glares at the front door of the house, waiting for it to open. He knows they can hear the baby crying. He knows they won’t come and help. He holds her a little tighter, feeling every wail and hiccup and sob that tears through the baby’s tiny body.

“Come on, little one. Gotta.. Just calm down.”

~~~~~

#3

The babies keep coming. Different guy this time, different promises. Only consistent is that Drayton’s the one shouldering all the weight.

There’s two of them, tiny and sick little things. Right now, they’re going through a phase of colic, crying and crying and got-damn crying non-stop.

Drayton swears the hairs at his temples are going gray. Might not be all that unrealistic at twenty something.

He’s trying to act his age, meet someone at a bar, settle down, forget babysitting for his low life mother. But that’s never gonna happen.

Sissy’s only about eleven now and not nearly mature enough to deal with giving the twin boys their breathing treatments and shots and changing diapers and blending up the solid foods they should be eating by now.

On the plus side, Drayton’s becomin’ a fine cook, providing for his siblings, but that’s not his place now is it?

Mama and grandpa preach the same story, gotta marry young and provide for the woman, so she’ll provide to the family name. To hell with that.

Got no interest in it. Why should he want brats of his own with three siblings running around now?

The farm work don’t magically disappear either. Mama don’t lift a finger, grandpas halfway to death's door, and sissy’s afraid of the machinery. Same old story.

One baby on his front, the other on his back, both of ‘em crying their eyes out. No sense in wasting the breath on trying to calm them. Might save his hearing, if it worked, but it doesn’t, so he ignores it. Grits his teeth and hauls ass to get the crop planted in time.

Hell it’s not like he’s ‘bout to let these kids starve just ‘cause this ain’t the life he wants. Even he’s not that cruel.

Has he considered running off and letting them deal with it? Of course he damn has.

Has he decided he’ll step up and make sure they’re at least living comfortable, if not well? Regrettably, yes.

Does that patience get tested even more when the baby on his front- little Nubbins he calls him since he’s so tiny and mama can’t be bothered to call them anything- hiccups from all the crying and spits up right on his shirt? Well, that would be another yes.

~~~~~

#2

Mama dies when the fifth baby is born. Grandpa’s been dead for two years by then.

She never knew who this baby’s daddy was, to leave somebody for Drayton to beg for help.

So they’re all alone.

Everyone his age is settled by now, yet here he is. Bottle-feeding the little shit that never even got a proper name. Watching the boys and their almost grown sister playing around. Like a hawk.

It’s not a gentle gaze. He’s angry today. Waiting for one of them to slip up so he can take it out on them.

They know it too. Robert tugs on Sissy’s sleeve and asks her a question, whispered in her ear. He thinks he’d get in trouble if Drayton heard his stutter out loud. The way things are going, he just might.

The baby had a cleft in his lip. It’s stitched up now, but he won’t ever just feed even with the bottle right in front of him. This shit was easier with the twins just eating through tubes in their bellies.

The glass and thus the milk has gone cold by now, not warm like it should be, but he can’t be assed to fix it. If only shouting at a five month old worked half as well as it did on the boys. He’d shake the baby and scream at him, “Just eat what you’re given goddamit! Little brat, suck it up!”

Well then he’d sound like Grandpa.

Maybe he already does.

Drayton closes his eyes and forgets about the conspiring between the two siblings in the yard. Almost, almost gets a goddamn moment of peace while the baby at least tries to get his deformed and scarred little lips around the bottle, but that never lasts.

Sissy interrupts. “Can I see the baby?”

Drayton doesn’t even open his eyes to look at her. “No. He’s eatin’.”

“Mhm. Sure.” How he’d love to slap that attitude off her face. It’s just dripping from her tone. He can just imagine her hands on her hips, a puckered expression on her impatient face.

His fingers twitch. He suppresses that for the sake of not dropping the infant in his arms. Yeah. That’s the reason.

“Go bother the boys.”

“It’s the boys wanna see him.”

He scoffs. Shakes his head. “Hell no. He ain’t their doll.”

Sunshine’s glow seems to be covered by angry clouds today, her tone the exact opposite of her name, “They wanna name ‘im, Drayton. Is it a crime now that they actually love their brother?”

Something funny clutches at his heart. Something like guilt maybe. Sissy’s already storming off but he stops her. Puts the still full bottle down and raises the little baby up.

“Here. I’m tired of this anyway.”

~~~~~

#1

The letter come in November of 1971.

They were drafting Robert. His birthday’d been drawn out of a lottery. He was among the first few groups of the year. Some grand prize.

The boy’d cried harder when they had to shave his head than the day he finally left. The same couldn’t be said for his brothers.

Drayton stayed stiff but the younger two.. Well, not even their sister leaving a few years before could've prepared them for the idea of war. Of their Bobby being shot at.

It’s Draytons fault. None of them should’ve qualified. That damned idiot can’t even spell his own name, can’t reason like the grown adult he’s s’pose’n to be.

Too much pressuring them to act right. To act normal. He’d faked it til he made it, except this wasn’t no academic test they give him. It was a competency test, and now he’d be gone. For a year at least.

The house is quiet.

Bubba hides from the world, the scary world he thinks is gonna eat up his brother. Spends all day in his room with the lights off. Tinkering with what he’s got

Nubbins is the opposite. He wanders outside. Too far past the property line. Gets in random cars. Asks if they could take him straight to his brother and gets mad when they don’t. Can’t.

Drayton would keep him on a tighter leash if he wasn’t working his days away at the station. The checks from the boys’ ailments started running thin. Mama's life insurance run out long ago, never making a dent in the debt she left. He had no choice to but to work.

Everything’s broken. Wrong.

Family come first. It always had. Never got to spend a day of his adult life doing anything other than taking care of those brothers of his.

And yet.

Now that he doesn’t have to-

Now that Robert is gone-

Drayton hurts. Mourns. Regrets. Wishes things might’ve been different.

He wishes the kids didn’t hate him. Taste of his own medicine, maybe. The bastard raised them spiteful. Should’ve known it’d be like this.

They don’t even look at him most days. Just float around the same house. The one of their childhood.

The one that was supposed to keep them safe.

~~~~~

+1

It takes Bobby getting injured.

How pathetic that the only thing that could bond the family is more suffering?

Somehow it works.

Maybe it’s having to clean up the bloody messes of his bandages when his stitches split. Or having to help him navigate the house without being able to see it.

The head wound cut out his vision, like a light switch he described it. He’d thought it was blood in his eyes, but the lights never quite turned back on.

So it’s up to the rest of them to be his eyes.

In some ways, to be his protectors again.

Nubbins is always flying up to help him if he needs so much as a sip of water. But sometimes Nubbins can’t be there. Sometimes he’s out of commission with his own troubles, and god knows Bubba’s too afraid to touch Bobby ever since he got hurt. Scared he might break him.

That leaves one.

When Bobby gets stranded up the stairs one day, he calls for him. “C-Cook. Cooooook. Y-You gonna help me o-or what?”

“Or what.” Drayton grumbles in response.

“A-As if.” Bobby laughs at first, a wheezy, nasally thing, but then a dead serious look crosses on his face, turning into a bitter scowl, a hint of fear, “Y-You’re not really gonna-“

“Hell no.”

Drayton heaves his old ass up there to help Bobby down, guiding him to the railing and giving him one arm to steady. It’s clumsy, two grown men don’t fit side by side on these steps, but they get him to the ground so it works fine enough.

Robert blindly reaches for his brother, patting him across the face appreciatively. It would piss Drayton off if the boy could help it. A wound as bad as he got, there’s not much feeling in them hands anymore either. They say you lose your eyes and get guided by touch, but he don’t got much of that either. Like he’s lost.

Drayton’ll accept the gesture for what it was meant to be.

Nubbins saw. His skinny ass was hiding behind the doorframe of the sitting room

“Come here, get your brother boy. ‘Fore I get tired of him.”

The mystery gets Bobby riled up, “Who-Who’s it gonna be? Is it B-Bubba?”

His head darts back and forth, the little bit of hair he’s got growing back so far flying around like mad.

Grabbing him by the frail shoulders, Drayton turns Bobby towards his twin, “No, you nitwit. Listen.”

The sound of their gait is different. Bubba's favorite boots click on the wood floors for one thing, but he’s also much bigger. Boards creak under every movement of that boy. It’s obvious the one approaching now isn’t him. And well.

“Nubbins!! Hi Nubbins!!” Robert greets excitedly.

Nubbins ushers him away into the next room, glaring daggers at Drayton until he can’t see him anymore, “Was he mean?”

“N-No way! H-He got me down!” Bobby points in the direction he thinks the stairs are and makes a clumsy little walking man with his fingers. But of course he can’t stop there. A devilish giggle, “I-I think big brother’s g-goin’ softie on us.”

The anger melts away from Nubbins’ face like an ice cube, replaced with his own bastard smile, “Y-Yeh, he-he even let.. let Bubba put makeup o-on him.”

It’s true. Drayton couldn’t argue with the kid. He was crying his eyes out and tugging at his hair and throwing a whole fit. This was back when they first got Bobby home from the hospital, and he’d been bleeding all over the place still.

Hell, it only seemed right. You get so old, get so tired of being angry, you can’t hold the same grudges. Let the kid play. Though he did cut him off at the lipstick.

Nubbins won’t share that detail though. The thought is enough.

It certainly shocks Robert, who gasps like it’s his first day breathing air, or even like he hadn’t already heard this before, “No!”

“Y-Yeah!” Nubbins nods his head, even though his brother can’t see it.

The two of them laugh like anything’s even funny. Like they did when they were young. Sometimes it seemed like they were functioning on one brain, having conversations nobody else but the walls of this house would ever hear. Maybe they were.

Drayton doesn’t want to imagine what it was like when Robert’s heart give out twice on the surgery table. What was going on in his twin brother's head. It was hell enough on him and Bubba.

Maybe he is easing the iron fist he’s kept on this house. Who can blame him for that?

Let them have their moment.

Drayton grumbles under his breath, but it’s a comment really quite fond, “Little shits.”

[jessaerys]

(kind of a long-ish excerpt -- i've been twisting myself into pretzels about posting fic for the first time in years and driving myself crazy about it, so i figured it'd do me good to do a teeny tiny soft launch to demystify the whole thing. as a treat thoughts appreciated :') title may change, we'll see.) texas sharpshooter fallacy flirt mello/near | T (excerpt) | 700ish words | canon compliant.

near knocks.

his idea of inconspicuous is a sharp black coat and matching slacks and aviators now high up and glossy on his head. he knocks, and stands there in the fluorescent headache hallway where he can hear mello’s neighbors two doors over fucking to industrial EDM, their bed and their heads shrieking. as if the shock of white hair and vermeer eyes and his pretty babydoll mouth wouldn’t turn heads from harlem to chinatown. he has to laugh.

the 6th floor hallway is carpeted in cigarette butts and shards of glass and piss and misery, rock-bottom regret, apathy of the take-a-walk-out-of-the-roof variety. the wallpaper is an eyesore from the 70s and the ceilings are crazy cracked. taking the lift is a game of russian roulette. more than one person has died in this floor alone. he knows because it was his finger on the trigger, and fuck, he hasn't bothered to scrub out the stains. the grifters, the killers, the whores: everyone here —everyone— has been forsaken by god.

and near is alone.

for a brief, ridiculous moment mello is fourteen again, filled with a gleeful kind of malice, hoping the crackheads across the hall walk out and see near in all of his freakish man-in-black, little gray alien glory. catnip for psychosis, and right on the money to boot. if mello squints just so, it looks as if near is trapped inside the fishbowl marble universe of his peephole.

“in military strategy,” near says, his voice a tuning silver fork that makes the hair on the back of mello’s head stand on end. it is deeper. more elegant. mello had noticed, earlier, when they’d been strangers in the same room with nothing in common but the race for kira’s head and five years worth of resentment. “to refuse diplomatic entrance to one’s territory would be considered a declaration of war.”

“we already accepted jesus into our hearts.”

inside his grimy spaceship, the corner of near’s mouth quirks for a flash of a kodak moment and then it is gone. glitch in the matrix. mello’s wolfteeth grin knocks painfully into the aluminum.

“and didn’t the lord say offer hospitality to one another without grumbling?”

1 peter 4:9. the verse just before reads: above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.

"nothing a couple dozen hail marys won't fix."

above them something shatters against the floor. a woman screams. a weight falls heavy on the floor and then there is silence. the ceiling snows dirty dust all over near’s shoulders like so much winter wonderland. the lights flicker and flicker.

neither of them say anything. mello watches. he can’t see you, he tells himself, feeling like the world's best and brightest buffoon. he's not fucking godtouched.

but near raises a hand to his rosy cherubim face, makes a circle with his thumb and index finger to squint through with one big ophanim eye.

watches the watcher.

“i will wait for sixty seconds.”

mello finds his gun. sticks it in the back of his pants. runs his hands through his hair. pulls his gun out, checks the mag. pops it in place. hesitates. checks it again. he was right the first time. it is empty. thirty eight, thirty seven.

L used to say, it’s a boundary, mello. explicit verbal communication of where the limits are. respecting it preserves the peace. you can choose to ignore it, but you should first know why. and you should be ready for the inevitable outcome.

but what this really is is this: near coming to him alone under cover of night, so naïve he might as well be wearing a neon sign that says mug me or kidnap me or worse! i'm a stupid little boy!; as far he can be from the safety of his prince’s tower all to give little old mello the pleasure a fucking ultimatum.

his blood simmers. his ears ring. his sympathetic nervous system betrays him only ever around near, and near's little sycophant butlers could be just out of sight. he could be here with a swat team and a warrant for his arrest. he could be here to let mello know he has once again taken from him the only thing that's ever made any damn sense in his life.

he tries to breathe through it. tries to weight his options. he tries to be more like L.

he fails.

four, three, two—

near turns to leave.

mello opens the door.

.

.

.

[rothjuje]

I added two more bantams, two mystic marans, and two Easter eggers to our flock. I am OBSESSED with my little ladies. Well, two are likely roos but equally obsessed. So flock is currently at 15, and will likely go down to 13. I really wanted to add two olive eggers, but I don’t want to crowd them and I want to have enough time to properly socialize them.

They look like tiny, fluffy inquisitive little dinosaurs. Absolutely the best. I do not understand why everyone doesn’t have chickens. Apparently rhode island reds are supposed to be jerks, but ours are really sweet. The jerkiest chicken we have is the leghorn, she’s the leader. The starlight green eggers are the craziest, they’re actually flying up to two feet in the air. At 10 days old we had to put a lid on their brooder because they kept flying out, and they’re not even the biggest birds we have!

I almost got a goose (easiest guard animal) but was afraid of it attacking the Amazon delivery people (Justin’s unholy Amazon addiction is alive and well). I still need to plan the coop and run, spring break was too crazy with the kids/their friends/chicken love.

I’ll try to keep the chicken talk to a minimum, but man I can’t stop looking up every single thing about each breed. And stalking Tractor Supply. It’s definitely a hyperfixation.

What else? Plants here are much cheaper than they were in Texas, how is that possible? About to bloom tulips come in containers of 3 for $2.50! Hyacinth and daffodils at Lowe’s were also $2.50, a third of the cost from our local nursery.

When we moved into our house and I saw all the flowers I was amazed, thinking a gardener who really knew their stuff was behind all the blooms. Nope. This is why there are sooo many flowers in Massachusetts: winter comes. Everything is dead. The skies are grey. Everyone is depressed. Spring comes. The sky turns a vibrant blue. The sun dances around again. Plants spring up again, the trees turn green. And it is addicting. You want to add to it, you need to add to it.

I completed my snap pea project, it’s super cute. I also got a bunch of Hyacinths and a tulip.

Oh! I was wrong. There are lots of blooms I haven’t seen yet here. And there are apparently tons of different types of hostas, some sprouted two months ago and are now 4 inches high, some have been there with slow growing buds for a month now, some just sprang up almost overnight. It is special to see this property come to life. Really.

Last chicken thing hopefully for a while, but apparently bantams are just miniature chickens. They are so freaking cute. They require half the space of full grown girls. So if size is what’s keeping you from getting chickens, do ittt. My 4 bantams are so pretty and sweet. And teeny tiny.

[1whimsicalgal]

👄 Pam, The O'riginal Chainsaw Gal 

Flower Child

March 1971 - when I was a free-spirited little hippie gal, all of 19. My boyfriend of 8 months, George, was taking my picture in front of the house he shared with Gunner Hansen. It was on Avenue G in Central Austin, near the UT campus. Gunner and I were sworn enemies. He was relentless in making sure I was left out while he and George went out to hunt chicks, drink beer, and smoke pot. George was quite easily encouraged in all three cases. After 13 months with philandering George, the incessant liar, I’d had my fill. I got out the back, Jack didn’t look in the rearview and happily lost track of both of them. George would try to talk to me on campus, but I was done. I’d taken the cure. Ah, love. Good riddance I said. I hoped.

This was two years and four months before Gunner’s and my paths would cross again. It was on July 18, 1973, the first day on the set where we were beginning filming what would become the cult horror classic, "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre," 1974. The TCM cast, crew, producers, et all were gathered in Quick Hill, just outside Austin, Texas, at what would be called, “The Sawyer house”. It was located across a dirt road from what we came to think of as “the old Hardesty house”.

I was in for a big surprise that morning. Unbeknownst to either Gunner, or myself, we'd both been cast in this little non-union (aka ’scab’) local horror film, "HEADCHEESE”, a working title. I was standing outside the Sawyer house on that muggy, hot Texas morning, chit-chatting with my acting colleagues, ‘Sally’, ‘Kirk’, ‘Jerry’, and ‘Franklin’ (you know them). We were getting to know one another. We were all dressed in our costumes, all our own clothes that they’d picked out from different outfits we’d brought from home for them to choose from, for us to wear in the film, a strictly low-budget affair. Nearby, parked in the yard of the Sawyer house, was the Vortex RV/trailer/office, a no frills, no AC job, where we were soon to sign our first contracts. Everyone was pretty excited and a bit lost.

Producer-writer, Kim Henkel, stuck his head out the open RV door and excitedly called over to me, “Hey, Teri!! Come over here! I want to introduce you to 'Leatherface!” OK, I’m ready. Kim seemed thrilled, proud as punch for us to meet. As I stepped inside, I made my way down the narrow aisle, walking toward a very large figure, a man with a head full of brown curly hair, who was sitting with his back to me. He took up one of the two banquette seats. Someone was seated across from him, but I can’t remember who. As I got even with him, I noted he was almost as tall sitting down as I was standing up. This guy was big. I was feeling an eery sense of deja vu. Kim said, “Leatherface, meet Pam!” Ta-da! He turned toward me and cocked his head to look at me, both of us prepared to say, “Hey, nice to meet ya!!” Instead, we both looked at one another in sheer horror. We each jerked back with our mouths wide open. Simultaneously, we both blurted out, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE??!!!” They call them "excited utterances."

Well, we got through the moment, gathered our wits, quickly cooled our heels, and shared little with those around us. (Ai-yi-yi!! What have I gotten myself into? ) Toward the end of the day, on a break, we had coffee together. Turns out, George and Gunner had had a falling out. George had parted the G-Avenue house owing Gunner money, just as good ol’ George had also owed me money when we’d parted. Gunn and I buried the proverbial hatchet and the rest, my friends, is history.

Rest In Peace

Gunnar Hansen 1947-2015

George 1945-2017

**Thanks to my friend Eric Goode for the cleanup and colorization on these 50-year-old B&W photos.

Teeny-Tiny Addendum - It would be grossly unfair to posterity not to list GRWB’s many good qualities. Gunner would want me to do that. Over the years, they managed to reconcile. In 2012 Gunner invited me to meet him at El Mercado in S Austin, to interview me for his book. At the end, he asked if I ever talked to George, and had a few choice tidbits to tell me… but that’s a whole other story!

GB and I moved back in together after he moved from Ave G, however he never told me why he left Ave G and Gunner, or even that they’d had a falling out. He could be sneaky! All I knew was that I didn’t have to ever see my sworn mortal enemy, Gunner Dang Hansen, ever again! Pretty sure GB moved out at the end of the spring semester of ’71, (after that picture above taken of me at their house). Then, we moved back in together (again!) to a cool house in Tarrytown in Austin.

George was charming, imaginative, smart, witty, spontaneous, creative, LOVED good music, laughing, and was often thoughtful, kind, crazy/wild, very sweet, positive, complimentary, expert at apologizing, remorseful, loving, adventurous, a true dreamer. We had electric chemistry and loads of fun times together. We went to Willie’s first picnic together in ’71. I believe we broke up 13 times in 12 months, usually getting back together within 48 hours. Incredibly talented, and, he had an absolute genius for finding new places for us to live. #credit

Thanks for reading.

Sending love to all. Posted on Pam's FB page: Saturday, 6 PM, January 22, 2022. Fair to Midland, partly cloudy, clear skies ahead.

#thecircuitousrouteissometimesbest  #lifeislong 

#lifeisshort

[robertdeanstockwellgal]

Dean Stockwell interview from 2004.

Las Vegas Weekly

DEAN STOCKWELL AT THE FIFTH STAGE: FROM GREEN HAIR TO QUANTUM LEAP, CIGAR-SMOKING ACTOR HAS CARVED OUT A DISTINCTIVE CAREER

Jeffrey Anderson Thu, Jun 10, 2004 (midnight)

Biographers will have an easy time with Dean Stockwell. The actor's career breaks very neatly into four parts: child actor, young man, hippie, and character actor.

Born into a showbiz family in 1936 in Hollywood, Stockwell made his movie debut at age 8 in the MGM musical Anchors Aweigh. During a recent telephone interview, he says he doesn't remember his first day of work, but does remember that he didn't like it much.

"I found myself in a very weird world, this moviemaking. I was expected to do the same caliber of work as the adults, and at other times I would be reminded that I was a child. It was difficult. I could do the work but I didn't like it. Other than two comedies and The Boy with Green Hair, I didn't enjoy acting at all."

The Boy with Green Hair (1948) was a bizarre, passionate anti-war film that changed many people's lives. In it, 12 year-old Stockwell plays a war orphan whose hair turns green as a symbol for war orphans everywhere. The film marked the directorial debut of the celebrated Joseph Losey (The Servant, The Go-Between). "He was a very sweet man," Stockwell says. "I remember he gave me a puppy. It was a little dachshund and I named him Thief."

Stockwell notes that the film came "at a time when there was a very influential right wing that created the blacklist. This was prior to the McCarthy witch-hunts. Losey went to England and never came back. While the film was being made, I was unaware of that. I only found out about it years later. What did affect me was the content of the film. I took it very seriously. The other ones were just dropped in my lap, but I was very proud to do this role."

The actor dropped out of the movie business to go to high school, but re-emerged in his 20s. "I didn't have any training to do anything else in life," he says. He received some acclaim for his performances in Compulsion (1959) and Long Day's Journey Into Night (1962) before entering the "hippie" phase of his career, epitomized by the San Francisco Haight Street movie Psych-Out (1968).

It wasn't long before Stockwell burned out again, eventually moving to New Mexico and acquiring his real-estate license—though he never used it. "I was feeling pretty depressed," he says. While working on a "stupid Mexican 'B' movie," Stockwell learned that David Lynch was making Dune and managed to get an introduction.

"He said, 'I thought you were dead.' He had confused me with the kid who was in Shane," Stockwell says. (Brandon de Wilde died in a car accident in 1972.) Initially rejected, Stockwell landed the part of Dr. Wellington Yueh after another actor dropped out. Later that year, a film festival in Santa Fe put him in touch with Harry Dean Stanton, which led to his illustrious role in Paris, Texas.

"I never really liked acting until I was in my 40s," he says of this new period of creative character roles, which also included To Live and Die in LA, Blue Velvet, Tucker: The Man and His Dream, Jonathan Demme's Married to the Mob —his favorite role, for which he received an Oscar nomination—and the popular cult TV show Quantum Leap.

For Lynch's Blue Velvet, he based his role of the bizarre, effeminate Ben on Carol Burnett. "I told her about it to her face and she loved it. Funny how things work."

Demme also recently cast him in a "teeny, little part" in his new Manchurian Candidate remake. "I think it could be hot," Stockwell says.

It also was during this period that Stockwell's signature cigars started popping up from time to time, notably on Quantum Leap. "The cigar made its debut in Kim," he says, speaking of the 1950 film he made with Errol Flynn, based on the Rudyard Kipling novel of the same name. "I guess it was in the book; my character smokes these little cigars. I started smoking them for real years later in Nicaragua."

Now Stockwell has embarked upon what could be his fifth career stage as an artist. "I'm making collages and prints out of computer-made pieces. I'm having an exhibition in Taos, New Mexico, at the RB Ravens Gallery in September, and then another one later in Monterey [California]. There are 42 pieces in the show," he says proudly.

In a business where most child actors burn out quickly, Stockwell has shown remarkable staying power, especially with very few role models to learn from in his childhood. "I attribute it to good fortune and fate," he says. "It amazes me that I'm still alive and that I'm still working."

[urzombiegf]

i wanna know ur thoughts on what the dteam dicks look like… im a big sapnap curvature truther 

i have . many thoughts but they'll b short bc im on break while writing this O_o also can u tell who ive been getting into ^^;

cw: dick talk !!! & piercings (i try 2 keep it realistic so don't get ur hopes up 2 muchh minus the piercing bc uh ya)

dreamwastaken.

✁ above average in length !! maybe around 7.3-5 max is at 7.9 & he's decent in girth !

✁ has little to no curve

✁ very pink !!! pretty boy™ dick

✁ isn't circumcised bc foreskin justice

sapnap.

✁ maybe a teeny bit above average, but he's probably around 6.7-10 & im a firm believer in girthnap !!!! let my boy be girthy

✁ CURVE ,, sap has a big curve and i won't take criticism

✁ has piercings !! idk which ones but i feel like he'd get at least one piercing

✁ he might be circumcised bc texas is 50/50 on it buttt foreskin justice 💔 im gna say he isn't circumcised

georgenotfound.

✁ average all around !! around 6.3-6 length wise and maybe a tad bit girthy then normal but other then that p average !

✁ small curve !! he gives off left leaning curve vibes thoo

✁ definition of pretty boy dick, if u thought dream was pretty wait till u see his !!! he's alwayss pink

✁ our first circumcised man !!!

[visforvengeance]

I saw stars // Rafe Cameron

Requested by: mm no one :)

Notes: i really love rafe and he just needs help. no hate against sarah. she's one of my faves. also i don't remember what happened to their mom so. i based this on that one part in nda by billie eilish that's all lmao

Warnings: like i tried my shot at angst, cursing, teeny tiny bit of manipulation, fighting (between rafe and ward), drug abuse (mentioned). death of a parent (mentioned), there's no spoilers here babes, I actually proofread this time. go me!!

Song

Third-person POV

Rafe paced in his room as his girlfriend sat on his bed. He couldn’t form one coherent thought but his mind was racing. The girl’s voice drowned out in the background. God, she was so worried. He’d called her here, saying it was urgent. But, he’s yet to say what was wrong. She got up and stood in front of him, he realized that she was there and looked up at her. “Baby, what’s wrong?” She pleaded for him to tell her something.

Lately, Rafe had gotten worse. The more Sarah hung out with the pogues, the more their father tried to reel her back in, the less Ward paid attention to how much his son needed him. Rafe fell deeper into his rabbit hole, but the only thing that was holding him afloat was his girlfriend. But even then, he was pulling her in with him too. “Rafe, please tell me what’s wrong. You’re scaring me!” She was so scared. Not of him but for him. She’d watch her boyfriend of 2 years get more unstable with each passing day.

Rafe couldn’t pinpoint which issue he should tell her about, there were so many. Sarah is being a bitch and hanging around the pogues JUST to spite their dad, Ward is fucking falling for it, Rose is being Rose, he’s not ok and no one fucking notices. “Nothing is wrong.” He couldn’t tell her. He had too much shit going on with his family and he couldn’t drag her into it. But, she wasn’t going to let him slide this time. She could see that everything was wrong. The drug abuse, the mental health decline, the lack of attention from his parents. It was breaking him and she’s the only one who seems to give a shit. So why won’t he let her in?

“I call bullshit, Rafe. Please talk to me.” He laughed, manically. “You want to know what’s wrong, babe? Let me tell you. Let’s start with the fact that I have a conniving little bitch of a sister who toys with my father. And a dad who I look up to that won’t give me the slightest bit of attention. Um, the pogues like to insert themselves in everything we do. I just can’t fucking win. So, what’s the point, y’know?” He was crying, although he didn’t realize it. His shedding tears turned to full-on sobbing as his head rested in the crook of his girlfriend’s neck. “Rafe..” she ran her hand through his hair.

He was just a little boy who needed love. She couldn’t imagine having to deal with the shit he does. She was tired for him. The more it sunk in, the angrier she got. She saw red at this point. “Is your dad here?” She whispered to him. He nodded and looked up at her with those pretty little eyes. “Why?” “He needs to get his head out of his ass and realize that everything isn’t about Sarah. He’s completely neglected you and Wheezie trying to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.”

He tried to stop her but his pleas were being ignored. She spotted Ward in his study and pulled Rafe in and closed the door behind him. “We need to have a little talk.” Ward tried to politely shut her down and get her to leave but she wasn’t having that. “No, you listen to me. Do you realize that other people exist other than Sarah? Like for instance, your other two kids? You’re so far up her ass that you can’t see that they actually need you, unlike her who is doing just fine with her found family.” The two men stood there, shocked as she tore into Ward.

“Your son adores you and all you do is treat him like some stepchild that you don’t want. Do you know how he deals with his pain? Drugs. He’s getting worse and you just watch. You berated him for his actions without even questioning why he does what he does.” Ward tried to defend himself against the younger girl. “Rafe knows that I love him, don’t you, son?” He only called him that to try and manipulate Rafe into doing what he wants.

“No, dad. I don’t. I really fucking don’t. You know, ever since mom died you just stop acting like you cared. I tried so hard to be the son you always wanted and it never fucking worked.” Ward stood there. The rage was evident in his eyes as he stared at Rafe. The younger Cameron was pouring his heart out to him and instead of showing the least bit of sympathy, he was just angry.

He lunged at Rafe, which caught him off guard. As Ward’s fist collided with his face, blood flew from it and onto the ground. Y/N didn’t know what to do as the two men fought. She was terrified for Rafe. The shuffling and her scream were all you could hear outside of the door. Rafe was on top and giving Ward a run for his money. “Rafe, please stop! We’ve made our point, you’re going to kill him!” He realized that his father was no longer fighting back and stopped.

Before they left, he stopped to say something. “Now I really see what you are. You’re just a sad little man, Ward. You only care about this stupid fucking treasure that you killed a man for. And all I ever did was try and help, but it never worked. So, fuck you. I’m done.”

He stormed out of his office with bloody clothing and a bloody nose. Now, they’re in Rafe’s bathroom. Y/N trying to clean his wounds. “Are you okay?” The concern was all over her face. She felt bad. Maybe she shouldn’t have inserted herself in their business. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone in there,” she said as he winced at the sensation on his lip.

“No, it’s fine. If anything, you helped. You’ve made me realize that I don’t have to deal with this shit. Will you come with me? We could leave here and forget all of this, it can just be us together.” Y/N thought about it. When she turned 18, all of her family had left. But she stayed for Rafe. So why shouldn’t they just leave?

“Of course I’ll leave with you. Tonight, right now. We pack our shit and go. You remember that trip to our vacation home in Texas? We could go there. It’s basically vacant now. What do ya say?” She smiled cheekily at him. His lips latched onto hers as they shared a passionate kiss. They loaded his things into the truck her dad had given her and they left without turning back. The lights of the Cameron home blurred in the distance and they drove off.

[randomvarious]

Recept - “Detach” First Array 1998 Ambient Techno

It's not everyday that you hear the term "Texas techno," but allow me to hip you to some cool-ass shit right here. Back in 1998, a Texan man with a very Texan name, Merrick Brown, founded himself a teeny, tiny techno label in Austin called Tektite Recordings. Tektite only ended up averaging between two or three releases per year in its four or five years of existence, but despite that minuscule output, Brown's little label was actually able to put out some 12-inches by US-born techno stalwarts like Stewart Walker and Fred Giannelli.

And Brown himself didn't put out much of his own material on Tektite, but maybe he should have, judging by how good his contribution to a 1998 Tektite 12-inch called First Array was. Straying from straight-up techno and instead going the ambient techno route, Brown was able to deliver a song that's really nothing short of spectacular called "Detach," under his Recept moniker.

Now, hopefully you can overlook the less than stellar and kinda muffled sound quality of the video that I was able to find for this song. If you can't, well, that's your loss, because it still manages to rip despite that blemish.

Anyway, seems like there have been multiple occasions in which I've posted songs that have an unmistakable aquatic vibe to them and this is going to be another one of those occasions. Just, like, imagine a clear blue underwater seascape, where all species, both animal and plant, are operating together in harmony and all are playing their own unconscious role in helping the ecosystem that they reside in flourish. That's pretty much what this song sounds like to me; just a tune that's beautifully complex in all its percussive elements and that comes with this über-serene backdrop of synth pads. It starts off simple without any synths, but Merrick Brown, who may have been staring at the Gulf of Mexico while composing this juggernaut, just keeps on mixing more and more bits of both synths and percussion into his concoction, and eventually it grows into something that's just wonderfully satisfying.

Merrick Brown only released three solo 12-inches in his career. And based on this song alone, it sounds like he should've definitely released more 😢.

[stardustrebels]

More of You- Chapter 4

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

WC: 1.6k

Rating: 18+ for eventual smut, MDNI

Series Masterlist | Blog Masterlist Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: After a devastating betrayal and loss, you left everything behind on the East Coast and promised yourself a fresh start in Austin, Texas. Independence as your new mantra, you vow never to let anyone too close again. Then you meet Joel Miller- a man whose warmth and Southern charm makes it hard to stick to your resolve. As your feelings deepen, you’re forced to confront your past- and question if letting someone in again is worth the risk. 

Tags: No outbreak!AU. Coffee shop meet-cute with a slow-ish burn. Sickly sweet fluff with eventual smut. I wanted to write something that gave me the warm fuzzies, and I am kicking my feet and giggling while I write this. Joel Miller just deserves a good life, you know? Joel and reader have a teeny tiny age gap- Joel is 42, reader is mid 30s. Sarah is 19. No use of Y/N, minimal descriptions of reader. She has hair long enough to tie back and she wears skirts and dresses.

A/N: It's here! These two idiots finally talk to one another. I'm so excited to add more chapters to this- it feels really nice to be writing this much between this story and the Jan 2025 writing challenge I'm doing. I'm having the most fun I've had in ages, and that's what it's all about, right? I really hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! :)

The only table that was empty when you arrived at Harrison’s the next morning was, thankfully, your usual one. When you’d asked why it was so busy, the barista had shrugged and said that there was ‘some big conference on or something’. You didn’t stick around to ask more questions after you ordered, worried that if you did your table would be gone and you would, God forbid, have to find somewhere else to work from. 

You didn’t bother setting up your laptop straight away, and settled on outlining some ideas in your sketchbook; it was too busy and noisy to concentrate on much else, anyway. 

It wasn’t until you were settled, sketchbook in hand, that you scanned the room for Mr. Miller- ‘Joel’, your brain unhelpfully prompted in a sing-songy voice. He wasn’t there. There was a stranger sitting in his spot. You chuckled to yourself at the thought- as if the man who usually occupied the table wasn’t also a complete stranger. Still, the sight of someone else in ‘his chair’ left an odd sensation in the pit of your stomach. 

You glanced at your sketchbook, running your pen absently along the edge of the page. He might be a stranger, but you didn’t want him to be. 

You surprised yourself with how much you didn’t want him to be. 

The bell above the door jingled and your attention snapped to it like a magnet. Joel Miller stepped in, phone in hand, scrolling with a furrowed brow as he walked up to the counter. He looked just as he always did- casual shirt, dark wash jeans, leather jacket, and boots that had seen better days. You watched as he ordered, barely looking up from his phone, his voice low enough that you couldn’t make out the words over the chatter around you. You knew he’d ordered a black coffee. Then he looked up, and you saw the moment the realisation hit him- his usual table was occupied. 

His eyes darted across the room, scanning for alternatives, his expression falling when it became clear that there weren’t any. He turned back around and said something to the barista, who turned to her colleague and called out, “That’s to go!” 

Your heart sank a little at the idea of him leaving so soon. He lingered awkwardly at the counter, his eyes briefly flitting up to your table and the empty seat opposite you. 

Without thinking, you raised a hand and waved at him to come over. 

It was a small, almost timid gesture, but it caught his attention. He raised an eyebrow and glanced over his shoulder, as if to make sure that you were actually waving at him. 

You smiled, biting back a nervous chuckle and nodded, beckoning him over again. He shot you an inquisitive smile and took a few tentative steps toward you.

“Hi, uh…” you faltered slightly as he reached you, struck by how much more handsome he was up close. There was a tiny, almost amused glint in his eye as he stopped in front of the table. You forced yourself to maintain eye contact, and tried to ignore the fact that your heart was hammering against your ribcage so hard he could probably hear it. You gestured to the chair opposite you.

 “You can sit here, if you like. Sorry your usual table’s taken.”

He huffed a laugh, clearly flattered by the fact that you’d noticed. He paused for a moment, eyeing you curiously. For a second, you thought he was going to decline and you steeled yourself for the embarrassment. 

“That’s awfully kind, Miss,” he said, his fingers flexing against the back of the chair before he pulled it out and sat down “Thank you.” 

As he settled in, you couldn’t help but notice the faint pink tint to his ears. For a man who seemed so self-assured, it was endearing to see a flicker of bashfulness. It was gone in a second. He extended his hand toward you. “I’m Joel,” he said, in a way that made your heart skip a beat. 

A rush of excitement coursed through you as you reached out, giving him your name in return. He smiled and repeated it, making it sound so sweet. You nodded, grinning nervously as you shook hands across the table. 

“It’s real nice to meet you,” he said, returning your smile. It was your turn to blush. The way he was looking at you made your toes tingle; like he was genuinely pleased to be speaking to you. Like you’d made his day. 

The barista appeared, setting Joel’s coffee in front of him in its to-go cup, his name scribbled on the side. He gave her a murmur of thanks before his eyes shifted back to you. There was a pause, charged with nervous energy. You worried for a millisecond that he was going to leave now that he had his coffee, but he leaned back in his chair and gestured to the space between you on the table. 

“No computer today?” He asked before taking a sip from his cup. 

You shook your head, letting out a small laugh. “No, bit too chaotic to concentrate this morning,” 

Joel nodded and made a noise of agreement, glancing around at the other tables. You tried not to stare at the way his fingers curled around his coffee cup. His eyes came to rest on your sketchbook. “You’re an artist?” He asked. It sounded more like a statement, like he wondered what you’d been doing over here behind your laptop for the past few days, and had answered his own question.

You glanced down at the half-finished sketches scattered across the page and resisted the urge to cover them with your hand, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “Something like that,” you said with a small shrug. “Freelance designer. Logos and such.”

His brows lifted slightly, impressed, and he drummed lightly on the lid of his cup. “Freelance, huh? Bet that’s a tough gig.” He tilted his head, a flicker of admiration in his eyes that made your stomach lurch. “Takes guts to do your own thing. Not many folks would.” 

You did. You think. You cleared your throat and shifted in your seat, closing the cover of your sketchbook. “It can be. Tough, I mean,” you admitted, shrugging again, “but I’m lucky enough that it pays the bills. I try not to work from home too much. If I hadn’t started coming here to work, I’d probably never leave my apartment.”

Joel took a sip of coffee and nodded. “I hear that. Hard not to end up doin’ anythin’ but work when you work from home.” 

“What do you do?” You asked, sweetly, trying to make it sound natural. 

“Run a construction consultancy business with my brother,” he said with a proud smile, “spent years workin’ on sites, decided one day that we were better at runnin’ things than most of the companies we worked with, so we started our own.” 

“I know that feeling,” you laughed. “Do you run it all from home?” 

Joel shook his head, “Nah, we’ve got a small office downtown, just a few blocks from here,” he gestured out the window. “Head over there after my coffee most days.”

“That’s impressive,” you said sincerely. “Do you enjoy it?”

“Yeah, I do,” Joel admitted coyly, “It’s a lot of work, but at least it’s mine.” 

You nodded, taking a sip of coffee. You understood completely.

Conversation with Joel was as easy as you’d hoped. He was funny, charming and sweet in a way that felt entirely effortless. His humour had a dry edge that made you laugh out loud more than once. You’d noticed how his eyes gleamed with a twinkle of satisfaction when you did.

You were lost in the conversation, enthralled with the way Joel’s eyes crinkled when he smiled, the dimples in his cheeks, the way his laugh sounded, his southern drawl that was more obvious on some words than others, how he fidgeted with his coffee cup as he answered your questions, suddenly shy. There was something comforting about him, about the way he talked- and listened- to you. You hadn’t felt that kind of comfort in a long time. 

You looked around and suddenly realised that there were now empty tables. At some point, the noise in the coffee shop had dissipated, but you hadn’t noticed. 

Joel followed your line of sight and looked around. “Not so busy now, huh?” He said with a grin. He pulled his sleeve up to look at his watch and his eyes went wide. “Shit,” he hissed, pulling his phone out of his pocket to double check the time. “Shit. I’m sorry, darlin’, I gotta go.” He stood, pulling on his jacket with a groan. “I gotta- Shit- I had a meeting. Time flies when you’re havin’ fun, I guess,” he said, patting down his pockets as he always did. 

He pushed the chair under the table and paused, leaning against it with both hands.

“I’ll see you around, maybe?” You said, hopefully.

“Same place, same time tomorrow?” He said with a cocky grin, hesitating before he stepped away. 

You laughed and nodded. “Definitely.”

He stepped away from the table, learning forward to lightly touch the top of your arm. “Lookin’ forward to it already.” He said. 

Then he was gone. He hurried past the counter and out the door, faster than you’d ever seen him move. 

The top of your arm pulsed where his fingers had been. Your face burned at the way he’d called you darlin’. You resisted the urge to squeal and instead took out your phone, turning the empty to-go cup round so that his name was facing you. You snapped a picture and sent it to Summer. 

Guess who joined me for coffee this morning? 

Next Chapter

[cheyningdiamond]

Past Encounter

Inside of the train, Clayton was sitting back with his phone in his hand. He was texting his mother, who he was on the way of meeting at the next station in Nevada. 'R u almost here? I can't wait to see you again, my little cowboy!🤠' 'Moooom It's a 4 hour ride over there. n pls dont call me that, I'm not 7 anymore!' 'Lol I know, I'm just so happy 2 see you! I cant wait for you to tell me all the exciting stories you have from college!' Clayton felt his heart sink slightly at that text. He didn't exactly have the courage to tell her he dropped out a while ago. Sure, he got a job someplace soon after, but it still made him weary about his mother's reaction... 24 years old, college dropout, trying to figure his life together... Clayton sighed and leaned back, covering his face. "...Something the matter?" He heard a voice next to him. He moved his hands and saw a woman sitting beside him. He saw that her hair covered her eyes and her stomach showed that she was expecting. "A-Ah... No, A-Ah'm fine, ma'am..." "Your face shows the opposite..." He looked at her hair-covered eyes, then sighed, giving up rather quickly and spilling out his story to this woman he just met. "Well... My ma's expectin' me to come home 'n tell 'er 'bout my college. Well... Ah kinda gave up halfway... Ah wasn't gettin' good grades, ah kept gettin' pushed around the other students, 'n just, I-it was too much fer me..." The woman stares. "Ah... I apologize..." She looked down at her lap and put her hands neatly together, staying quiet. "...I can understand how it's like. Being pushed around... The most I can tell you is not let it get to you... Fight back, if you must." Clayton sighed. "Ah wish it was that simple, Ma'am... But, ah don't enjoy conflict... A-Ah usually run from fights rather than git into 'em." He couldn't help but chuckle. "Ah never thought a gal like you would even consider fightin'." "What's that supposed to mean?" Her voice turned cold and hard rather quick, making him flinch. "Ah, n-nothin'- N-Nevermind..." This reaction caused the woman to let out a small "hm". She only had a smile for about a second, before returning to her emotionless state. Clayton wanted to try and make things less awkward, so he switched the topics. "S-So, uh... I see yer expectin'... Is it a boy or gal?" She looked at him. "I'm not sure... I wanted to keep it a secret. Sort of surprise myself, I guess..." "And who's the lucky fella, huh? Heheh, Ah'll guess he's real happy about bein' a dad, eh?" Uh oh. That earned a very negative look from the woman. She had a look that mixed between sadness and slight anger. "...He's dead." She said, looking away from Clayton. Fuck. That was a horrible question... Clayton was in disbelief and grief as he stared at her. "O-Oh... Oh my God, A-Ah'm so sorry, madam... I-I-" "It's fine. You didn't know." Clayton gulped, feeling real shitty. He didn't know, yeah but that didn't stop him from feeling God-awful about it. She looked at Clayton and put her hand on his knee to try and reassure him. "Really, it's fine... Don't beat yourself up over it." She finally gave a teeny smile to try and cheer him up. Clayton smiled back, feeling himself slowly feel a tiny bit better. "Say, uh... What's yer name, miss?" She stared at him, then told him her name. "Ah... That's a pretty name." He smiled. "And you?" "Clayton..." "Clayton? Man, the accent and the name are rather southern." He laughed quietly. "Yeah, Ah uh, My parents 're actually from Texas. They came over 'ere to visit me so Ah'm comin' over to the station to git 'em 'n bring 'em back." "That's nice... Have any siblings?" "Mhm. Ah got my lil' sis who's visitin' too. What about you?" "I have a slightly younger brother and sister. Both massive pains in my ass." She laughed. Clayton was slightly shocked at the language, but chuckled. "Yeahh... But, siblin's are meant to be that way. 'Specially lil' ones." "Ohh yes..." The two laughed and spoke to each other for the rest of the ride, sharing stories, laughing over jokes and

just overall having a nice time. There was even an instance she moved her hair, showing him her eyes. One was brown, the other was a green color. She laughed as Clayton was just in pure shock and awe about her eyes. Saying they were so 'cool' and 'pretty' even. The emotionless state she was in washed away and became much more lighter and full of joy. She was even amazed by the golden fang-like tooth in his mouth and he smiled big, making her chuckle more at the sight. The hours passed and it had gotten to their stop and the mysterious woman looked over. "Ah, already...? Shame... I was having a good time talking..." "Yeahh..." Clayton frowned. It was sad to leave his new friend. The two got up and walked out of the station, about to go their separate ways. The soon-to-be-mother looked at Clayton and smiled. "I'm sure we'll see each other again? Who knows, maybe one day we can talk over some coffee. My treat, yeah?" "Ah'd like that alot..." She smiled and gently hugged him, before walking away. Clayton saw his parents and little sister sitting at one of the benches outside. He ended up managing to push his fear aside for now and give a big grin, going over and hugging his family.

[aion-rsa]

The 20 Best Horror Movies on Netflix UK – Scary Films to Watch Right Now

https://ift.tt/2RE5emn

Netflix is an ever-changing, constantly growing treasure trove of hidden gems and secret delights (here’s everything new on Netflix UK this month). Sometimes, a teeny bit too secret though.

Who hasn’t sat down to watch a horror movie and found themselves scrolling endlessly, either not being able to find something they’re in the mood for, or not really knowing what half the titles are, or if they’re any good?

We’ve scoured the full current catalogue available to watch in the UK now and picked out the best scary movies. It’s a mix of classic and new, and a range of slashers, horror-coms, mumblegore, monster movies and more to hopefully scratch that itch with ease.

We’ll keep this updated as and when titles drop in and out of the service.

Hereditary (2018)

If you haven’t seen this slice of trauma, the feature debut of Ari Aster, you probably should. If you have seen it, you probably won’t want to again. Toni Collette stars as a woman whose controlling mother has just passed away setting of a series of horrible events. Aster says the film was partly inspired by his own sense of his family being cursed – this a movie absolutely drenched in grief and pain with astonishing performances all round. It’s tough going, but it’s a masterpiece. Read our review.

The Platform (2019)

This existential Spanish horror made a splash at the start of lockdown with it’s tale of prisoner trapped in an enormous vertical prison with a platform at it’s centre which delivers food to the inmate floor by floor starting at the top, so that each floor only gets what the floor above has left over. It’s political, allegorical, it’s clever and it’s very violent.

The Endless (2017)

Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead’s gorgeous sci-fi horror stars the two as brother who escaped from a cult ten years ago and are drawn back in in search of answers when a strange videotape arrives. This is their third movie after Resolution and Spring and the two are only growing in strength as directors – The Endless is rammed with indelible imagery and deeply unsettling moments within a plot that is a joy to unpick.

What Keeps You Alive (2018)

Couple Jackie and Jules head to a remote woodland cabin to celebrate their first wedding anniversary but things go bad… Ok this sounds like the most generic slasher in the world but trust us it’s not. Twists hit early on (that we’d hate to spoil) and the tension ramps up fast in a very effective cat and mouse chase with a female bent. This comes from Colin Minihan who made Grave Encounters – this isn’t similar but both have a disorientating sense of place. Read our review.

Orphan (2009)

Released during the heyday of Dark Castle’s mid-budget horror splurge, Orphan is one of those genre films with an absolutely ludicrous (and therefore thoroughly enjoyable) twist, which we will not spoil for you. Peter Sarsgaard and Vera Farmiga star as a couple mourning the loss of their baby, who decided to adopt a little Russian girl called Esther from the local orphanage. Things quickly start to go very, very wrong as the pair start to suspect that wee Esther – who insists on dressing like a spooky doll – isn’t all she appears to be. Check out our review.

Insidious (2010)

The many sequels may have yielded diminishing returns but the first of this franchise, about a couple (Patrick Wilson and Rose Byrne) whose comatose son appeared to be trapped in another realm by a evil spirit, is a very effective chiller. Horror genius James Wan directs, and the first half of this movie at least is pretty much guaranteed to make you jump out of your skin.

Annihilation (2018)

An all star cast including Natalie Portman, Jennifer Jason Leigh and Tessa Thompson, plus the quality direction of Alex Garland wasn’t enough to secure this horror sci-fi based on Jeff Vandermeer’s novel a theatrical release in the UK. Nevermind, that just means you can watch it for free on Netflix. Portman joins a crew of women exploring the mysterious Area X where he husband ventured some time before and came back changed. It’s a weird, unfamiliar landscape of beautiful flora and terrifying fauna defying explanation until the strange, indelible finale (not sure what it means? Have a read of this explainer). And you can check out our review, too if you like.

Daybreakers (2009)

You’ll get a little bit of everything with this Spierig Brothers curio. It was the film that really got the directing team noticed and it’s not hard to see why. Set in a dystopian world where basically everyone has been turned into a vampire, one corporation thinks it’d be a bloody (sorry) good idea to track down all the surviving humans and…well, basically milk them. Ethan Hawke stars as a vampire haematologist who starts to think there might be another way for this story to go after he’s collared by a former vampire (Willem Dafoe), who can cure everyone. (Living) dead good. Check out our review.

The Bar (2017)

Slightly bonkers Spanish horror thriller which sees a bunch of strangers stuck in a busy Madrid cafe when snipers begin shooting anyone who tries to leave. Confusion and personality clashes abound in this economical single location chiller with a dark sense of human as the inhabitants slowly discover what’s going on, who’s responsible and try to work out if and how they will survive.

Read more

TV

Netflix UK: What’s New in April 2020?

By Kirsten Howard

TV

21 underappreciated films to watch on Netflix UK

By Paul Bradshaw and 2 others

The Cabin in the Woods (2012)

Drew Goddard and Joss Whedon’s love/hate letter to the horror genre felt like something of a game changer when it finally arrived (it was shelved for several years because of financial issue with original distributor MGM). Chris Hemsworth and Haley Bennett star in a double layer story about ordinary kids vacationing in a woodland cabin, with Bradley Whitford and Richard Jenkins as very particular kinds of bureaucrats up to something in the background. No spoilers, just watch. Here’s our review.

Cargo (2017)

Martin Freeman stars in this Netflix original developed from a short directed by Ben Howling and Yolanda Ramke. Set in the Australian outback, Freeman is a father trying to find someone to protect his child in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. More wistful and emotional than that sounds on paper, there’s a fascinating subplot about an Aboriginal girl mourning her father and the final set piece is unforgettable. Check out our review.

Lifeforce (1985)

A Cannon Films classic directed by late Texas Chain Saw legend Tobe Hooper, people are still discovering the ’80s madness that is Lifeforce. Originally entitled Space Vampires, it’s exactly what you’d expect, and so much more. Nude, energy sucking bat creatures are brought back to Earth after an interstellar mission finds a gaggle of them lying dormant in Halley’s Comet, and it all goes very badly for the planet. You can expect a scenery-chewing Patrick Stewart to pop up in between the tits and gore. Not literally! Although, sometimes literally.

Creep (2014)

No, not the one set on the tube, this ‘mumblegore’ horror is far weirder than that. Director Patrice Brice plays Aaron, a videographer hired by Mark Duplass’s Josef to make a video for his kid to watch after he’s died of a terminal illness. Or does he? Playing on the power of politeness and the awkwardness of male relationships this is a highly original, itchily uncomfortable watch. Creep 2 is also on Netflix, and also good!

Read more

TV

17 of the best TV series on Netflix UK

By Louisa Mellor

TV

Underappreciated comedy movies on Netflix UK to watch now

By Mark Harrison and 1 other

Hush (2016)

Another smart sensory-based horror, this time from Oculus and Doctor Sleep man Mike Flanagan. This home invasioner sees deaf writer Maddie (Kate Siegel) attacked in her woodland retreat by a masked stranger. He uses her inability to hear to sneak around and terrorise her, but she has tricks of her own up her sleeve. Check out our review.

The Invitation (2015)

Karyn Kusama (Jennifer’s Body, Destroyer) just keeps knocking it out of the park (and she’s recently been attached to a Dracula movie from Blumhouse Productions), and with The Invitation she continued to secure her place as one of the best directors around. Here, Will (Logan Marshall-Green) and his girlfriend go to a party held by his formerly suicidal ex-wife, and discover that she seems to be happier than she ever was, but Will starts to suspect that rather than healthily coping with her mental illness, she may well have joined a doomsday cult instead, and be planning to kill them all. Paranoia and tension are at the max in this bad boy. Here’s our review.

Little Evil (2017)

Comedy horror from Eli Craig who made the wonderful Tucker and Dale Vs Evil. This time he’s playing on creepy kid tropes, particular those from The Omen movies. Adam Scott plays a man who discovers his new wife’s (Evangeline Lilly) son might actually be the anti-christ. And because it’s Eli Craig, of course it’s funny and very good natured as well as playing with the genre.

Gerald’s Game (2017)

Another Mike Flanagan offering here – what can we say? he’s damn good! – as Jessie (a spectacular Carla Guigino) and her husband Gerald drive to a remote house to try and spice up their marriage with a bit of gentle BDSM. One problem: Jessie is not into it. At all. Two problems: Gerald carks it, leaving her tied up with only her cunning to help her free herself from her prone, handcuffed predicament. Three problems: a mythical, supernatural killer may be in the house. Stephen King, you’ve done it again. Read our review.

Ravenous (2017)

Unusual Canadian zombie movie (in French) which sees remaining stragglers after an outbreak of the infected band together in disparate groups travelling to find other survivors. Ravenous sets up its infected as worshipping a sort of new religion of found items (chairs, TVs etc.) making comment on the zombification of society. It’s also funny and quite scary, so there’s that.

Veronica (2017)

Loosely based on a true story, Veronica is set in Madrid in 1991 and follows a young woman who messes with a Ouija board who thinks she’s accidentally summoned an evil spirit. Director by Paco Plaza, one of the two directors behind [REC], the movie gained minor notoriety when it first landed on Netflix because of a few viewers finding it overly scary. It’s true there are some seriously creepy bits (but you’ll be fine!).

The Perfection (2018)

Get Out‘s Allison Williams and Dear White People‘s Logan Browning star in this twisty, trashy but nonetheless enjoyable tale of two musical prodigies hothoused at a mysterious academy. It’s lurid and lavish (and it’s got some fairly dodgy sexual politics, we’d warn you) but great lead performances and a tricksy three act structure that keeps you guessing, make this an entertaining and unusual Friday night pick. Read our review.

Want more horror? Here’s our list of 81 genuinely creepy horror movies. Here are some horror movies it’s safe to watch with your kids. And here are some underappreciated Scream-inspired horror movies of the 90s.

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[datleggy]

I’m autistic and one of the things I have trouble with is change. I’ve watched 911 since the third episode and now they have a second one? Idk. I’ve been seeing a lot of good things about it but I’m not sure if I want to watch it. Basically what I want to know is if it’s worth watching. Is it good? Are there any parallels between the new one and the Buck one? Who are the characters and what are they like? Will you start writing for this series instead of the other one? %

so, this got WAY longer than i thought it would, sorry!!! TL;DR is at the very very end!

tbh i didn’t wanna really give 911 lonestar a chance originally, i was lowkey annoyed bc it felt like they were like “oh u guys want buck and eddie, who are CLEARLY meant to be and have all this canon chemistry and relationship development to eventually get together??? lol NOPE but here’s a spinoff where u get ur white/latino gay ship :D”

which i do genuinely hope to god isn’t the case, like, i really need OG 911 to be like PSYCH here u go, some DIAZ-BUCKLEY fam. as a treat.

i did end up watching it bc curiosity and too many awesome gifsets finally got to me lol

and im only a couple of episodes in (haven’t had a chance to watch the 3rd ep bc of work and other things D: ) and so far i gotta say, i like the OG 911 calls that they get sent to more than 911 lonestars calls but again, im only 2 ep in, maybe they get more “woah thats crazy/hilarious/hearbreaking!” as the show goes on.

i honestly don’t see too many parallels between Buck and TK—the only thing i noticed where they’re pretty similar is how much they both enjoy easy physical contact. buck is very touchy feely and comfortable about showing affection/feelings and i feel like TK is the same regarding physical contact (with his dad at least)? but that’s about it.

for what it’s worth i do think the show is pretty entertaining and worth a watch!

my main reason for watching past the first episode is my enjoyment of the characters. i just think they’re all neat.

this is from a post i made when i first watched the show lol:

captain strand: good dad to all of his children

tk: hot gay messy boi

grace ryder: a fave, no nonsense beauty, judds better half

judd ryder: tragic big boi

captain blake: chaotic good w baby voice

marjan: wild feral messy gurl

mateo: if anybody’s mean to my SON im throwin hands bih

paul: again, if anybody’s mean to my SON im THROWIN hands

officer reyes: ready to dick tk down

here’s a more descriptive/longer summary of the characters if u wanna know more, if not skip down to the bolded sentence below lol:

owen strand is the captain (played by rob lowe) and to me he gives off chris traeger vibes (from parks and rec if u watched?) but with more depth. i like his character a lot, he’s a caring dad, seems like he knows what he’s doing, and like, c’mon, it’s rob lowe (i fell in love with him a million years ago when he played soda pop in the outsiders nipr;guebwuogrnofw)

tk is his son and a hot gay mess w some substance abuse issues (tho a lot has happened to him in only 2 ep i really don’t know how to feel about him entirely, bc besides stuff happening TO him, i don’t feel like he’s reacted in a way that shows much of his character?) idk maybe it’s just me. but he is a certified cutie so. lol

grace ryder, she’s smart (one of the only characters with more than ONE brain cell lmao) and gorgeous and an emergency 911 operator. she’s very supportive of her husband and what he’s going thru (which is A LOT), she herself has been thru a lot bc of the big incident at the beginning of the series and is still somehow held strong in spite of it all, she’s a personal fave of mine.

judd ryder is kind of a dick at first but i think its very understandable given the hell he’s been thru, im actually surprised at the amount that i like him. he’s very raw and vulnerable but has this “don’t worry im fine, back up” attitude that i loooove. 

captain blake is the captain for EMTs, she’s got this soft teeny baby voice that contradicts so hard with her give no fucks ima do what i need to to find my missing sister actions irwughqwgoriegjf i like. she’s caring and does goes out of  her way for the little guy.

marjan has ZERO chill but in a good way, i can already absolutely see her getting into trouble by doing some crazy impulsive thing on a call in order to rescue someone—-TBH she actually reminds me a lot of Buck from OG 911 in that way. like yea she’s reckless and impulsive but u can tell its bc she CARES and this firefighting thing is what she’s meant to do. i really like her.

mateo—-OH MAN. he’s 10000000% my favorite. it hurts me everytime he’s on screen, bc he’s such a sweet and HARD WORKING man and he deserves to be a firefighter and do what he wants/has been waiting for for so long, im so HAPPY captain strand gives him a chance. i think he might have some learning disability or maybe he grew up in a household where maybe his family was too busy or didn’t care to check up on how he was doing in school and they neglected to see how much he was struggling—this is all just pure speculation from the fact that on the show he tells captain strand during the interview that he’s always passed the physical exam to be a firefighter but keeps failing the written part :( i love my son.

paul is a trans firefighter who’s mainly known for his crazy good observational skills in the field—there’s an ep—ep 2?—that shows off his talent but like, i found it unintentional funny bc the way they did it was in a scene that honestly truly felt to me like a scene I MYSELF would write in a fanfiction if i wanted to show off a cool skill the character has but was also too lazy to make it look good???? lmaoooo im not trying to be mean but like, if u do watch it, its the 2nd ep i believe, the “office meeting” scene. other than that tho there’s only been a few scenes with paul in it (my personal fave being the skin care routine scene lol) but i look forward to more scenes of my son being a lil sherlock holmes :)

officer reyes is tk’s potential new mans. he seems like a good cop from what little ive seen of him doing police work. so, i saw a post someone made basically saying how ugly are the men in texas that officer reyes is out here thirsting over tk so HARD—and not to be rude, but he really is!!!! reyes is a goodlookin guy, so idk what’s up with that, maybe he likes messy bois? bc same.

p.s. im not sure how to feel about reyes and tk together yet bc it doesn’t really seem as if they have too much chemistry. hopefully that changes? i do kinda like that they haven’t started off their potential relationship on the best of foots, bc i love drama, an indisputable fact.

ONTO THE FINAL QUESTION!

OG 911 will always be my first love and i just don’t see this changing anytime soon. buddie will always be the #1 ship in my heart! and i have about a gazillion awesome prompts i need to work on so me switching over to 911 lonestar isn’t gonna happen. i love OG 911 way too much iuqhur4ogfoie3jwnwjinioj

tho i may occasionally—per the request of prompts i’ve gotten in the last week or so–take a couple of the characters from 911 lonestar and put them in a 911 fic as a crossover? we’ll see.

this ended up soooo long oruhibgruoeqwp i hope some of it helped tho?

tl;dt: 911 lonestar seems fun and the characters are interesting enough to keep me entertained so i say give it a chance  :)

[bapyess1r]

Sunny Daze

WARNINGS: cursing, substance, a bit of angst

Pairings: Sam Drake x OC

Author’s note: I started to write a thing.... I wanna see where it goes! Please tell me if you like it! I’m genuinely curious lol

Chapter 1

Sunny’s POV

I sighed, knocking on the hotel door as I adjusted the weekend bags over both my shoulders, hoping that Nathan fucking Drake hadn’t once again called for me just to do research. Or to break into or solve something… My best friend had a tendency to call and have me leave at the drop of a hat for something I could’ve done from my computer at home. Nate liked to call me “Brain” sometimes because I could solve most puzzles and mechanisms he got stumped on during jobs. Any time he had a robbery job, I was that voice in his ear telling him where to go and what to do. Lights out? I’d handle it. Bypass security? I got you. I even assisted on treasure hunts sometimes. I was good with hand to hand combat and weapons. And none of this was legal by any means but it was a job. Better than the one I currently have…

I shook the thoughts of doubt quickly as the door knob began to twist. I crossed my arms raising a thick bit shapely brow when he opened the door. “Sunny!” He exclaimed, embracing my teeny frame in his hefty arms. I returned the hug reluctantly, rolling my eyes and lazily patting him on the back.

“What do you want, Nate?” I asked tactlessly, my voice thick with a southern drawl.

“Oh, c’mon! You’re not still mad about-”

“Yes, I’m still mad about it, Nathan!” I exclaimed but he placed a few fingers over my mouth to shush me and hurried me inside the room.

“Shut up! People can hear you out there!” He said, closing the door behind me as I stared at him incredulously. Standing in the room was that sweet old man that I’d recognize anywhere. A smile crawled across my lips as I set down my bags by the couch and opened my arms to him.

“Sullivan, you son of bitch!” I laughed as we approached each other.

“Get over here, kid!” He said, ashing out his cigar and hugging me with a tight familial hug. “How are ya, Sunny?”

“Same ol’, same ol’. Jet’s got me workin’ the bar and waitressin’ now mostly. Way better than stage in my opinion. A couple of hecklers with wanderin’ hands now n’ then but…. nothin’ I can’t handle!” I smirked with a simple shrug. He huffed and shook his head.

“I do really wish you’d find somewhere else to work. It’s no place for a smart woman like you.” He told me, sitting back down at the table with a grunt.

“You n’ I both know why I can’t do that, Sully…” I said softly, looking into his blue eyes helplessly. He sighed, nodding.

“I know…” he said solemnly and I placed a consoling hand on his shoulder before noticing the man outside on their balcony, smoking a cigarette. Nathan approached me as he noticed my stare and leaned in.

“So… long story short…… that’s my brother…” he told me carefully and I gasped. I looked at him with my big brown eyes, covering my mouth.

“Get out- really?!” I exclaimed in a hushed tone. He nodded. I shook my head in disbelief. “You had a brother?! This whole time and you never told me? Me?!”

“If it makes you feel any better, Elena doesn’t know either…” he spoke with a look of guilt as he looked down and played with the cuticles on his fingers. I gasped again and punched him in the arm. Hard.

“You haven’t even told your wife?! Nathan-” I began but he waved me off.

“Yeah, Yeah, I know: I’m a piece of shit.”

I scoffed. “So...what’s this all about?” I asked just as his brother had turned around. My stomach lurched as his eyes met with mine for a brief second and Nathan pulled me over to his room to explain.

“Did you bring the stuff?”

“Yeah I brought the stuff- now stop bullshittin’ and tell me what’s goin’ on! You got me all the way out here in Italy for why?!” I snapped beginning to lose my patience. And I didn’t have much. He explained to me the story of his brief time in a Panamanian jail and how he thought his brother had died years ago. My eyes widened with every detail and eventually I leaned against the dresser with my arms crossed; just trying to digest all that he told me. “So…. Rafe Adler, killed a guard and Sam got stuck doin’ the time while you got away? How’d he get out if they had it in for him so bad…”

“He escaped with his cellmate, Hector Alcázar, who’s some big mafia figure. He had arranged a jailbreak and wants half of our findings as payment for Sam’s freedom.” He said worriedly. I stared at a dirty spot in the shoddy carpeting and nodded my head, fidgeting with my fingers. This was indeed a lot to take in.

“And you need my help for this?” I asked.

“I didn’t know who else to call...” He said knitting his brows together. Obviously, I was going to help him. He was my best friend and I’d do anything for him. Helping him save his brother was the least I could do for all that he’d done for me in my life.

“Well first… I need a drink…and a cigarette…” was all I could come up with in response. I slipped by my best friend and went back to the common area, pulling a stick from the packet in my jacket pocket with my teeth, my bestie trailing at my heels. Sully and Nathan’s brother sat at the table holding a casual conversation, huddled over the table with their drinks as I entered the room, lighting the cigarette and placing my hands on my hips. They both looked at me as I sat down at the table and poured myself a drink. I looked directly at Sam, his hazel eyes widened as I gave him the meanest mug possible. “If Nate gets hurt by this… in any way other than a bruise or a scratch, so help me God, I will kill you before Alcázar gets the chance. Do I make myself clear… Samuel?” I said, pointing my burning cigarette at him, my eyes never wavering as I leaned into the table. He blinked at me and nodded as Nathan sat down to join us, maps, papers, and books in his hands.

“And she means it, boy…” Sully added cautiously.

“Crystal.” He responded simply, a Boston accent dripping from his lips.

“Fantastic. Now… what’s the plan?” I asked as the younger Drake placed everything on the table before us.

“I guess we’ll bring you up to speed.” Nathan said with a small smile.

After about an hour, I was caught up to everything going on and we planned our strategy to steal the St. Dismas cross from the Rossi Estate auction happening in three days. Everyone began to peel off to catch some shut eye, except the eldest Drake. He walked off to take a smoke break and I was inclined to join him after I’d finished my drink. I took a long hard look at him as I sat alone at the table. He was tall. But I was super short so everybody seemed y’all to me. His shoulders were broad, his chest and arms strapped tight with muscles. His thick brown locks were pushed back off of his face. I’d almost call him attractive if I weren’t so pissed at him for dragging Nathan into this. He seemed okay talking around the table but something just didn’t sit right with me. Like he was hiding something. ‘Imma figure out what eventually….’ I thought as I stood to have another cigarette. I walked over to the concreted railing to stand uncomfortably close to this brother without a word. It didn’t take long for him to attempt to break the awkward silence. “So how long have you known my little brother? Y’know what's your story?” He asked.

“I went to MIT. Graduated, life got hard afterwards and I ended up moving back to Texas doin’ office work. Which sucked.” I began and he let an amused chuckle escape his mouth before taking a quick drag. I smirked as I continued. “To spice things up, I kinda sorta maybe hacked into the company’s funds and…. I’m sure you can imagine how that shit turned out. I had to leave town; got a whole new identity, met Elena at a gym randomly. Then I met Nathan through her. We’ve been friends ever since. He calls on me for a few jobs and some assistance once in a while.”

“And what is it that you’re doing here? No offense, sister, but I told Nathan I don’t trust anybody on his contact list with my life and I don’t know you from a can of paint.”

“And I don’t know you. But I’ve known your brother for the better part of 15 years so I don’t think you have any rights in questioning my abilities because I don’t have to help you.” I fired back, crossing my arms as smoke exhaled from my nostrils. He raised a thick brow and chuckled.

“You got spunk, lady. I like it.” He put out his cigarette and adjusted his pants. My nostrils flared up as I took deep controlled breaths. I never met a man sassier than me but I guess I couldn’t say that anymore. “We’re doin’ recon in the morning. I suggest you get some sleep.” He smirked heading to his room and closing the door, leaving me with the couch.

“Dick…” I mumbled to myself as I tossed my cigarette over the balcony and started towards the couch. I landed on it wondering if I was supposed to be here. I found myself wondering that a lot lately. After every job, I always felt a sense of slight fulfillment. It never lasted long though. I was never satisfied and always looking for a job to do. If it weren’t for Nate, I’m sure I’d be in a helluva lot more trouble than where I was. It was that thought alone that made me feel like I was okay. I was going to give 110% to help him save his brother. Then we’d be even. I let myself drift off as the whiskey began to take effect, falling into a drunken, dreamless slumber.

Read More on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25472005

[stringsofstarlight]

  Pt. 2  The actual practice of abundance theory and following the voice of spirit when called to action. 

      It is rare to have this type of illustration of Abundance Theory, for this time, I will explain.     The picture is of the goods purchased at three different stores that I have to been going to for the last 6 or 7 years when traveling as an urban miner using mathematics, kindness, and intuition as my pick and shovel to discover the underlying reality right in front of my eyes.   The owners of these stores all recognize me and call me whatever they remember the moniker they have given me (gold man, jewelry man, that dude).    At each store I end up spending about the same amount for purchases on average, every single time--every trip no matter what.   In the theory of large numbers these are what I call my “treasure shops” means that given the right amount of time, the spirit of God(dess) can work through these places to reflect and transmit the karma needed.   Every time that I have needed a reassurance that my path was going the right way, I have found something at these particular shops that covered the expenses of my travel.  I know when I find these things that I am part of something bigger rather than the  one “making it happen”, which allows for a more humble reflection of it all, one of the reasons I never talk about it.    When spirit picks up the check it leaves one more open to feel the current of what is needed to help other people.    Originally, I did not plan on going to any stores because of the virus and to get to L.A. fast means you have to cook it down the I-5 and there is barely time for eating and rest room on that kind of drive.     It also requires a very specific timing for shops that one has to drive later into the night, so I knew that I was called for a different mission of Love, totally disconnected from any idea of economics.        

        The cameo reflected the piece of jewelry that beyond anything I have ever seen like that quality, plus I didn’t even know i had it for a couple of hours.  It was an accident that I even ended up with it as I was purchasing the chain it was on.   When this happens it is where the dimension converge for external confirmation in the world of things.   Like an Angel making me take the medicine I need.   The carvings are straight from some other time, they are deep and three dimensional, with enough surface area to feel the exquisite crafts person ship of the maker.   The detail and the design with a beautiful woman playing the heavenly organ,  a man and woman looking upon the whole scene, the cherubs flying around, and then the flowers.    When a prayer is answered  in this way with such an item of beauty that goes beyond my own comprehension,  this whole journey was a divine reflection of our connection of love.  Patience for the good things in life, for it all will happen with good time.   If I ever had a question in my mind if I was on the right path, these items appearing when they, how they did, and exactly enough to blow what was left of my mind.     This is Abundance Theory, where all needs are met and the rippling touches the whole of the world even for a teeny, tiny, bit.  

Pronoia “a person experiencing pronoia feels that the world around them conspires to do them good.”  

        In the past 3 years I have been called to take part in the evolution of the planetary body via a ways and means that were wholly new to me.    The following weekend for the “Ring of Fire” solar eclipse” was one of the four events that have come to shape the new version of myself.    The other three consisted of going to Texas for two shows in Arlington,  11 days in the high desert for the Oregon Eclipse gathering, and then last summer I was blessed to be able to go to Manhattan for one of the seminal album releases of the year in late summer.  What do all of these events have in common you ask?    They all reflect a deep calling from that place where one’s spirit collides with the belief system of the world, the times where small changes in the positive interactions have a ripple effect upon the whole of the planet.    Each required a leap of faith in both a religiously spiritual sense and the fiduciary responsibility of maintaining ones economics.    For when one walks with the hand of spirit, it requires a leap across the deep chasm of fear for the unknown and deep fervently held belief that “everything will work out exactly as it is supposed to”.   To be clear, the most important connections, blessing, and happenstances of life have very little or anything to do with the economics of dollars and cents.    It is the uplifting connections of life when each one of us can stand in as an angel for another, even for that millisecond for one person to feel heard for the first time, to get a hug from a stranger that is deeply heartfelt(pre corona), or for someone to stop you to say “to know honey, you are just fine exactly how you are”, then never, ever see that person again.    When hunting for treasure, these are the things that one can find that will never be written down in the history books for their beauty shines too bright to be seen by most people.