#The Drive-In

[driveintheaterofthemind]

Vintage Paperback - The Drive-In (A B-Movie with Blood And Popcorn, Made In Texas) by Joe R. Lansdale

Bantam (1988)

[madaboutmunson]

Intro Part to a little something I started writing this evening

The Drive-In - Part 1

Part 2 | Links to all Parts | AO3 Link

Steve sighs, hands running over the steering wheel in front of him. He glances at the empty seat next to him and checks his watch.

27 minutes.

That's how long Felicity had been gone, leaving Steve in an awkward situation. Every bone in his body wanted to get out of the car, find her and make sure she was ok, but he also felt she had bailed on him. His scouring the drive-in and calling out for her might double how much of a loser he felt already.

He taps the steering wheel a few times and groans. He wouldn't be able to rest, not knowing if she was ok, so he swallows his pride and gets out, and takes a look around.

After one hand on the hip 360 turn, Steve drowns in envy. Every fucking car around him is a God damn soft porn extravaganza, and that's precisely what Steve should be doing. Right now, in fact.

This was her idea! Go to the drive-in, play up to her little exhibitionist ways. Which, you know, weren't particularly Steve's bag, but he had made it to date four, and if this is what it would take to find love, he was going to do it.

Falling in love shouldn't be this fucking hard. It should just happen, as it did with Nance, but this time it wouldn't be bullshit, and he wouldn't get his heart ground up into chum.

Steve sighs as the memories flood his head, and he starts heading toward the food stalls. He wanted to, but he couldn't blame Nancy. He fell so hard for her, but as it turns out, he'd fallen in love with an idea of her, what she could be in Steve's future, but that didn't match up with Nancy's, and deep down, he knew that. He just struggled to accept it. They could have been perfect together, but a family wasn't her priority, and objectively, as her friend, neither should it be; she was so bright, and the world was her oyster. Steves's idea of a loving family home felt like freedom to him, but for Nance, it was a prison.

And no one has got under his skin like Nancy.

It's not like he wasn't trying. Every girl he doted on, learned their likes and dislikes, gave them gifts, laughed at all their jokes, was a gentleman, and never showed up to meet them without looking like a picture of perfection.

It was just never enough.

Steve rounds the corner and spots the voluminous wavy hair in a huddle giggling with some other girls. At least he knew she was safe now. He turns to walk away, but her friend spots him, widening her eyes at Felicity, indicating the awkwardness bomb about to go off. Felicity turns and gives an awkward smile of apology because she was rumbled.

Steve opens his mouth to ask if she's ok but is cut off before he begins.

"You know, Steve, I think I'm gonna head home with my friends. One of them just got dumped."

Yeah, me, he thinks to himself.

She's a terrible actress but not as bad as her friend, who, on command, begins fake sobbing in her own hands.

Be a gentleman. He reminds himself.

"Do you ladies need a ride home?" he says, utilizing his big bright white smile.

Felicity shakes her head in a no and looks sheepishly at the ground. He gives her a tight closed-mouth smile and nods before heading to the nearest stall to buy some popcorn and a soda.

On the walk back to the car, through hickey-ville, he wonders. What had he done wrong this time? They were in public, and he'd made sure to get the cliff notes on this movie from Robin. It had a long runtime of over two hours and frankly sounded so bizarre. He was sure it would be make-out city, which is what she had wanted.

Oh God...had he kissed her wrong? Surely not; she would have said something, right? Did his breath smell? No. Not possible. He gets into the driver's seat, puts the snacks in his lap, and checks anyway. Still minty fresh.

At a complete loss, Steve settles back in his seat to watch this Space Odyssey or whatever it is called.

Before he is even an eighth of the way down into his extra-large popcorn, the passenger door opens.

She's come back!! She gets in awkwardly, her back to him. Steve promptly stops eating and hurriedly throws chewing gum in his mouth.

"Hey," he says gently, "Everything ok?" he reaches over in the dark and puts a hand on her shoulder.

He feels her stiffen under his touch, so he takes his hand away, "Are you gonna not look at me for the rest of the night, Flick?" He gets no response, but her shoulders move in a silent laugh.

Yes! She's laughing. He's golden, back in the game Harrington. Careful to keep his hands to himself, he leans over and asks lowly in her ear, "You like that nickname? Mind if I call you that?"

"As long as I get to stay in the safety of this car, you can call me whatever you like, big boy," a flirtatious voice that does not fucking belong to Felicity speaks into the darkness.

The head turns quickly, dark waves of hair and the aroma of tobacco spin around with it, and Steve is greeted with an enormous toothy grin, "Harrington."

Steve rapidly recoils in his seat until his back is pressed up against his door, "Munson?!"

[epoxyconfetti]

[hiddenramen]

one of my greatest pet peeves in fiction, and it is truly stupid I know, is that no one seems to understand how genuinely hard it is to kill someone via stabbing. stab wounds have a mortality rate of like 5%. especially abdominal stabbing. tv shows and movies show dudes getting stabbed one time in the lower abdomen with a tiny knife and then they fall over. like what did he die of precisely. that man died of Small Knife

[dr-rato]

GET ROTATED

[void-drifter]

it’s cheaper to buy vegetables here

[eurekq]

Anyways here is the official gofundme set up by sonya masseys surviving family if you have the ability to give her family real tangible support

[draconicshinx]

I am BEGGING younger drivers. drive carefully. give yourself room. for fuck's sake use your turn signals and don't fucking weave thru traffic. this is not a video game, this is real life and if you get into an accident, you could get killed or kill someone else VERY easily

[chongoblog]

So a lot of political scandals just dropped in the last 24 hours

-NC Governor Candidate Mark Robinson's online posts were found, including some VERY graphic descriptions (like seriously, do not read if you're not 18) of him cheating on his wife, calling himself a black Nazi, and expressing support for reinstituting slavery. His email address was also found on Ashley Madison

-Robert F Kennedy Jr was revealed to be cheating on his wife with a reporter (and that isn't even the weirdest thing since federal law enforcement opened an investigation into him allegedly cutting off the head of a whale and taking it home with him less than 24 hours ago)

-GOP Senate candidate who is the CEO of a bank has been found accepting millions of dollars from what seem to allegedly be Mexican drug cartels.

-Finally, probably the biggest bombshell, according to multiple eyewitness testimonies within sealed sworn affadavits, Congressman Matt Gaetz allegedly invited a 17-year-old girl to a drug-fueld sex party

And we haven't even hit October, folks. Again, these are all still breaking news stories, so things are subject to change, but oh man oh man.

[adaarsvitaar]

reminder to myself and whoever else needs it to stop feeding the machine. I'm aware I'm yelling into the void but look at the past couple years of games. They're pushing $70, $80, $100!!! for games that are completely unfinished, unpolished, and sometimes completely unplayable. Yes the game showcases were cool. The doom game looks sick and I don't even go there, but they're shaking the shiny keys to distract you and get you swept up in the hype. They're going to push so much fomo marketing to get you to jump for it full price.

Wait for sales. Wait and buy a used copy. Hell, wait a couple days (even hours!!!) after launch and reviews and breakdowns will start coming out. Our game backlogs are already packed, and mr big AAA studio can deal with some of us waiting to see if they actually delivered what was promised.

[knickknackoftheday]

soy sauce flash drive

[madaboutmunson]

The Drive-In Part 9

Part 1 | Part 8 | Part 10 | Links to all Parts | AO3 Link

Taglist: @2btheanswertothequestion @cr0w-culture @panicatthediaz @rhyswritesreadsandcries @weirdspaceowl

Eddie raises one hand to his contorted, confused face, the other pointing at Steve, "No, you're gonna have to backtrack on this plot, dude, because it sounds, to me, like that time-travelling little pervert is trying to bang his mom."

Steve lurches forward into Eddie's space and slurs out, "That's exactly what I said!! Thank you" Eddie receives a hard pat on his shoulder.

It had been some time and a substantial tower of beer cans since Eddie had almost spontaneously combusted in the kitchen. The only thing that seemed to make sense was, when he touched Steve's arms, the firmness of which Eddie again was trying to push out of his mind, it had set off a signal to Steve that they were in sports team mode. Because since then, Eddie had been winked at, shoved, patted, slapped on the back, an arm flung around him to squeeze his shoulders, and had a hand engulf his knee.

Eddie could say something, he probably should, but he was in such a state of shock about it he hadn't. He could move to the other sofa, but maybe this is how Steve hung out with that Robin guy. From what Eddie could tell, Steve was a little sensitive about getting things wrong, and honestly, he looked happy, and Eddie didn't want to be the guy to tear him down.

They weren't even watching the movie playing. Superman 2. That was probably Eddie's fault. He was getting fidgety, and the film was not engaging him in any way. He was wrestling with his brain. He couldn't stop thinking about that wink in the kitchen, so he tried to calm himself down, playing with his rings. Steve must have noticed because he started this conversation about this weird movie he'd seen a month or two ago.

Eddie pauses for a minute, "No, wait…from what you've said here, the Mom is way worse."

Steve narrows his eyes at Eddie, "What d'you mean?"

Eddie settles into full animated, conspiracy-explaining mode, "It sounds to me like the Mom would have banged her son, but you know, she didn't know it was her son, right? So not her fault, but then when she does have a kid…she names him after this mysterious guy she had a crush on in the 50s?"

Steve is out of his seat, hand and beer can to his head, as he paces around, eyes wide as Eddie had just revealed another mystery of the universe to him. "Oh my God, dude! You're right! I hadn't even thought of that!"

With Steve now standing, Eddie grabs onto that opportunity thread and stands up too, but at the other end of the sofa, to avoid another hard slap of congratulations. He was still partially covered in rapidly developing bruises, though the alcohol was easing the pain somewhat.

Steve takes a swig of beer from his can, shakes it between his two fingers, and realizes it must be empty. Then his eyes catch Eddie's again. He tilts his head and smiles at Eddie.

Eddie can feel his defences crumbling.

"Damn, you're smart, Munson," Steve says before crushing the beer can against his head.

Eddie is clinging to the arm of the sofa like it's his last tether to this plane of existence. His body and brain control centres were currently in full submarine emergency mode: all red lights and whooping sirens.

The only function he can muster right now is to blink.

Fucking hell, he'd hit Eddie's kryptonite. Steve had called him smart. Twice!!

While Eddie was more than aware that Steve was no rocket scientist, he was still someone he'd never expected to receive this kind of compliment from. He'd never expected to be hanging out with him, especially not to be enjoying it.

Eddie needed to get out of this room for something green of his own.

Earth to Eddie!! Say something!!!

Eddie points at the crushed can in Steve's hand, "Well, that right there might be part of your problem, my man."

My man? My man???!! Eddie inwardly cringes hard. Why did he phrase it that way? Jesus!!

Steve looks confused, "Beer?"

"Well, Steve, that wasn't exactly what I meant. It was more the crushing it against your head. It was a dumb joke, sorry. Not looking so smart now, am I?" Eddie awkwardly laughs and gives him a big grin and shrug combo.

As he looks back up at Steve, he can see his eyes are wide. He slaps the sofa arm and is laughing, like, with audible Ho noises, a look of surprise on his face.

Eddie is perplexed, "It honestly wasn't that funny!" but Eddie laughs a little anyway because he's never seen Steve laugh like this. In complete free abandon, it's almost childlike, free from inhibition.

Steve catches his breath and points a wagging finger at Eddie, "You," he shakes his head and looks up at Eddie, "You called me Steve."

Eddie is still confused and furrows his brow, "Well, that is your name, buddy."

Steve is waving his hands in front of him and makes a buzzer sound, "Wrong! You call me Harrington, or King Steve, or tomorrow-Steve, or something else. Not just Steve" Steve puts his hands on his hips and spins the remote around in his hand before turning off the TV, "You…like me," Steve finalizes by turning off the TV.

Eddie wants to bolt for the door, but unfortunately for him, that door is behind Steve.

Quick, Eddie, think!!

"Yeah, well, you like me too. You've hugged me like a bajillion times!" Eddie scoffs and folds his arms.

Steve's eyes glance up softly into Eddie's, "First of all, I've hugged…well more like put my arm around you…like three times, if that, and," a smile plays melodically across Steve's face, "I do like you…Eddie."

Oh, God, no! No, no, no. No, this is not happening.

Eddie thinks for a moment he might have passed out and that this was some kind of nightmare. Eddie pinches himself discretely. Hard. It hurts. This is real.

Say something!!! Jesus Christ!!!

All the posts in Eddie's brain centre were abandoned. All he had available was the autopilot emergency system.

You need to get the reigns on this situation, Edward!!

He didn't mean it that way, and even if he did. Eddie liked girls, right? Right! And so did Steve! This was just because someone popular from high school had taken a shine to him, and he was just flattered. That was all. But for good measure, the sooner Steve went to sleep and wasn't touching him or complimenting him, the better. Or, at the very least, the weed would quiet Eddie's brain.

Eddie manages to huff out a laugh, "Well, who could blame you, man? I'm a very likeable guy." he reaches down to grab his lunch box and holds it up. "And if you would kindly lead the way, Steve, I'm about to get at least ten times more likeable."

"I dunno, man, I probably shouldn't" Steve glances at the tower of beer cans.

"Hey man, no problem here. More for me, right?" Eddie is desperately trying to get out of this increasingly warm room and into the fresh air, "It is kinda my original plan for this evening, though. You know, before all the running and fighting. Or…um…if you're worried about the neighbours or something, I can go home. It's totally cool," Eddie smiles, trying to give Steve options without making him feel pressured into anything. Eddie was not like that.

"No, I don't want you to go." Steve says suddenly, and it takes Eddie off guard, "I just…you know what…" Steve grabs for another can of beer, stabs a hole in it, and shotguns it.

Wiping his beer-glistening mouth with the back of his hand, Steve says, "Mood killer penalty, right?" and gives Eddie a little half smile, making Eddie feel like Steve is searching for his approval.

"Right." Eddie smiles back, still firmly gripping the sofa arm.

Steve walks out the door and turns back to look at Eddie over his shoulder, "Well, come on then," he says bossily, waving him over.

[catmask]

when u go to write a mentally ill person in ur story you are presented two options. the first option is to write your mental illness realistically as you actually experience it with all the ups and downs and people who are like you will resonate with it and feel seen. except every person who reads instagram infographics on mental health that uses the phrase narcicisst for anyone who does anything that crosses them and unironically call themself a dark empath will call you scary and tell you that youre demonizing mentally ill people

the second option is to lie and write inspiration porn for those people to get hard to

[draculas-tits]

the thing about the cybertruck being marketed towards people who are afraid theyll get shot driving through a city is that no other vehicle on the market psychologically invites violence and bullets as strongly as the cybertruck does. you see a cybertruck and you wanna empty an m16 into it

[lastoneout]

I just love it when video games let you do really stupid shit that kills you immediately. I love being like "oh this is a terrible idea" and being able to do it and then die. It's good game design.

[sadmages]

Having ocs is fucked up they make you wake up and think stuff like what if i learn to code in renpy and make this into a visual novel. Who said that