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#summer and her three stooges (water signs)
sracha · 11 months
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does anyone know where i can buy these amiibo cards
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dustedmagazine · 3 years
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Listed: His Name Is Alive
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While Warren Defever’s name is perhaps less recognizable than that of his band His Name Is Alive, he’s also been connected with a seemingly endless array of other projects: Princess Dragon-Mom, Elvis Hitler, ESP Beetles, Control Panel, and far more. This doesn’t get into his recording and production credits for the likes of Michael Hurley, Iggy and the Stooges, and Mdou Moctar. Forever associated with Michigan’s weirdo-underground music scene, Defever has recently been issuing a series of long-buried recordings as His Name Is Alive. In February, the Disciples label released Hope Is a Candle, the third and final volume in the "Home Recordings" trilogy exploring Defever's teenage tape experimentation as well as A Silver Thread (Home Recordings 1979 - 1990), a four-volume collection of many of Defever’s solo home recordings prior to His Name Is Alive releasing their debut album Livonia on 4AD in 1990. In his review of A Silver Thread, Tim Clarke writes “For a collection of home recordings, what’s most striking about this music is how fully realized and carefully executed it sounds, comparable at times to contemporary artists such as Grouper, Benoît Pioulard and Tim Hecker. This is not the 1980s that I remember.”
Defever gives us his “What Else Is New” list, a set of personal snapshots, memories of a life spent in music, warning the reader that “the descriptions don’t always have an obvious correlation to the video, but welcome to my nightmare brain.”
In The Line of Fire
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I started performing when I was five. My grandfather was a self-taught musician from Saskatchewan in Western Canada and he showed me and my brothers how to play banjo, guitar and fiddle. One of my earliest memories is having a full size 127 lb. accordion placed onto my lap and my grandmother voicing her disappointment when I refused to play. I did learn slide guitar from her later though. I have many, often terrible, memories of performing at square dances with his band and we would play old timey country music, folk songs, polkas and waltzes. There were also gigs at the trailer park, old folks homes and a convent. Although my grandfather believed that popular music died with Hank Williams in 1953, he still found room in his heart for Lawrence Welk and Slim Whitman.
Meet Me By The Water
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By age ten I had a tape recorder and was using it to capture the sounds of nearby lakes, thunderstorms, and my older brothers LP collection played at the wrong speeds. I recently found the cassette, Echo Lake (1983) which features waves crashing onto the beach on the Canadian side of Lake St. Clair but it was recorded right after I got an echo pedal so it’s got a heavy dose of dreamy delay. Tape loops of the next door neighbor raking leaves and shoveling the driveway would be repurposed a few years later as rhythm tracks on the first His Name Is Alive LP, Livonia (4AD, 1990). Detroit in the late 70s and early 80s had totally insane radio and one of the highlights was Met-Ezzthetics, a late night show on WDET hosted by Faruq Z. Bey who also played saxophone in Griot Galaxy. Shortly before his death he played with His Name is Alive and we had a chance to formalize our student-teacher relationship.
Search For Higher Energies
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In high school I was studying Bach Chorale harmonization and counterpoint during the day but recording and touring with the band Elvis Hitler at night. The other guys in band were older but at 16 I was a familiar sight at shitty Detroit punk clubs and Hamtramck dive bars, the nerdy teenager reading a book or doing homework sitting at the bar waiting ’til midnight or 1am for our slot to play our hellbilly hits, “It’s A Long Way From Berlin To Memphis,” and “Hot Rod To Hell.” I was still trying to make sense of the post 1953 music scene and when I met the guy with a giant afro and shiny super hero outfit complete with shiny cape I had no idea he was Rob Tyner of the MC5. We released three records before I was twenty one and played shows and toured with Devo, the Dwarves, the Dead Milkmen, Reverend Horton Heat, the Beat Farmers, Helios Creed, Babes In Toyland, the Cro-Mags, Corrosion of Conformity, the Frogs, the Gories, Pussy Galore, the Unsane and way more I can’t remember I was just a kid. It was some kind of education.
You Don’t Have To Go Home But You Can’t Stay Here
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When I signed with 4AD I thought I was a composer and they let me write my own bio, so I called His Name Is Alive the work of a “fucked up, irresponsible teenage composer.” I had only been writing music for three years. When I heard “Tom Violence” by Sonic Youth I thought for the first time in my life, “I think I could do that.” In 1988 I made a mixtape with Tracy Chapman’s Fast Car, Leadbelly and some of Big Star’s third album and I tried to arrange it like it was an album, then I made my own album in that same shape, it was called I Had Sex With God and I sent it to 4AD. Our first album contained three of the first five pieces of music I had ever written. Within a few years I was playing festivals for contemporary classical composers and new age artists who were thirty or forty years older than me. His Name Is Alive played the Musicas Visuales Festival in Mexico with Harold Budd, Paul Horn and Jorge Reyes. The mayor of the city presented me with a guitar but then dramatically walked out of the theater during our performance realizing he had made a terrible mistake. I remember the surreal moment when from across the room Harold Budd walked in and greeted me as “Mr. Defever.” He had a cold and was sniffling during his set, the audience thought he was crying. I recorded his show and when I got back home to Livonia I added my own guitar to some of his songs and then edited the tapes, looping my favorite parts and editing out the parts I didn’t like, also adding additional layers of reverb and echo. More recently I did a concert in a five hundred year old temple in Japan where the unamplified meditation music never rose above a whisper and the monk had to turn off the furnace because the heat molecules were too loud. The show was recorded and released under the name Mountain Ocean Sun and features Ian Masters and Hitoko Sakai.
Energy Dealer
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Both my parents were born in Canada, my mother in Saskatchewan, my father in Ontario. I have dual citizenship as my father was American and my mother had Canadian citizenship. I spent summers, holidays and weekends in a tiny cottage on Lake St. Clair that did not have a telephone and had curtains instead of doors separating the two rooms. Myrt Fortin who lived next door would receive phone calls for my mom, walk over to our place and yell into the window, “Hey wake up your ma, your dad’s on the phone.” My mom took a lot of naps, so she was always asleep when something important was happening. I remember always getting cut on broken glass while swimming in the lake or getting stabbed by one of the neighbors and having to go wake up my mom to take me to the hospital.
Lord I Don’t Believe You Exist
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When I was ten my parents sat me down and told me it was time that I got a summer job. There were only two businesses in town, a gas station and a hardware store so I walked up to the hardware store and asked the owner for a job and immediately fell to the ground crying. Completely fell apart. He asked me why I wanted to work in hardware. I didn’t know what to say, I was only ten but I knew not to tell the owner that his store was stupid and I didn’t think he could handle the truth. It turned out he also owned the gas station so that didn’t really work out. Later that summer, I began working for the Pickseed Corporation as corn de-tasseling season was just beginning. All the moms would drop off their kids in the church parking lot in Tecumseh, just outside of Windsor, around 4:30am where an unmarked windowless cargo van was waiting that had cinderblocks and 2'x4' boards instead of benches so they could squeeze in the maximum amount of children. There were three job requirements to work in a cornfield, the child (it was only children, no adults) needed to show up with a baseball hat, a thermos with water and a large black plastic garbage bag. I think this was before sunglasses were invented. Upon arriving at the cornfield, we were separated into pickers and checkers, younger kids each taking a row of corn (a row could extend a mile or more) and a slightly older kid would organize and manage several of the younger kids. In the morning we were instructed to poke two arm holes and a head hole into our garbage bags and put it on like a raincoat because the corn was covered in dew and kids wearing wet clothes would walk slower than dry kids. So almost every day there was a point, usually around 11am when the dew would dry and we would be roasted alive from the summer sun coming down on our ridiculous shiny black plastic outfits. We worked from sun up until sun down. I received three dollars and thirty five cents an hour. For all you city folks, corn is planted in alternating rows of types of corn so that when the top part of the plant is removed, or “de-tasseled,” it can seed or cross-pollinate easily. It’s a terrible job with a high turnover rate and every day I would hear the sound of kids in nearby rows that had given up hope, sat down in the middle of the field and crying for hours. The following year, at age 11, I was promoted from picker to checker, and was put in charge of a group of about ten sixteen year old’s.
Sleep It Off
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Mostly I like to record – His Name is Alive has over a hundred releases and I’ve done another fifty records under various names, Control Panel, Warren Michael Defever, ESP BEETLES, ESP SUMMER, Forest People, Infinity People, Jeepers Creepers, Layla al-Akhyaliyya, Mirror Dream, Princess Dragon-Mom, the Dirt Eaters, the Fishcats, the Whales, plus way more I can’t remember probably because the names were so dumb. I’ve recorded about four hundred records for other bands at my house or other studios. I’ve worked on records with Danny Kroha, Ida, Fred Thomas, Elizabeth Mitchell, Wild Belle, Michael Hurley, and when I was a teenager I helped record the first Gories album which was especially unique as I was the junior assistant engineer who helped move their equipment into the dirt floor garage next to the studio where it was decided the acoustics would be way worse. Also, I helped collage about a hundred Destroy All Monsters tapes from the 70s for a couple of their releases which led to remastering a bunch of tapes from the John Sinclair White Panther Party archives. I’ve done remixes for Thurston Moore and Yoko Ono and when Iggy and The Stooges started touring again I got a phone call from Ron Asheton seeing if I would help them record demos for their reunion album with Mike Watt on bass. They wrote the songs together while they were recording in Niagara’s basement sort of simultaneously. Iggy didn’t have a notebook with all his lyric ideas, instead he just sang about whatever happened that day – one song was about the airline losing his luggage, one about ATM machines and another was about reading in a newspaper that Ray Davies of the Kinks had been shot in New Orleans. In the end they weren’t terribly excited by my suggested song titles including “No Shirt” (you know because it’s like “No Fun” plus you know Iggy never wears a shirt) and they didn’t seem to love the mixes that I did that sounded kind of like those crappy Raw Power bootlegs.
Cost Of Living
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Two summers ago I recorded an incredible concert by Mdou Moctar live at Third Man Records in Detroit. They’re wild hypnotic Hendrix style jammers who live in the desert. The band didn’t speak much english but I think I was able to communicate to them how excited I was about their amazing fingerpicking and hot guitar solos after the show by screaming and replaying the best solos over and over again and then screaming the word fuzz and pointing at their fingers. It’s insane and having seen them a few times since then with a different drummer and the addition of a bass player, I’m convinced it’s their best album. It’s wild but it’s still not Tchin-tabaraden wedding wild.
Licked By Lions
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Jonathan Richman walks into Ethan and Gretchen's studio and asks if I can remove all the rugs, take the acoustic treatments off the walls and strike the baffles which normally separate the instruments, drums and amps, so the room will have the most echo possible, he has also invited about ten friends including Johnny Bee Badanjek the drummer from Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels and Mary Cobra from the Detroit Cobras to dance, sing and play percussion in the studio while he records. He has two vocal microphones set up at either end of the room and has brought his own microphones for the drums along with his own desired placement for them. He notices a tamboura near the control room and asks if I know how to play it or if I know how to tune it. Within seconds he’s tuned it and proceeds to sing Indian classical music accompanying himself on tamboura drone for about thirty five minutes. It’s beautiful and very surprising. He asks me if I recorded it, I lie and say no. Later he asks me not to play it for anyone. We record for hours. Some songs are quite long – ten and fifteen minutes, some are medleys of oldies or soft rock hits from the seventies segueing into new songs of his. It’s a confusing session as it’s not clear when songs are starting and ending and he often plays guitar and sings nowhere near a microphone. The distance between him and the microphone seems to have some meaning, there’s some formula to when he chooses to walk away in the middle of a verse but I am unable to determine the secret code. At the end of the session three or four songs are deemed usable, edited and mixed, although, sadly, an attempt at a completely insane and unexpected fuzz guitar solo is left unreleased. (The Harold Budd piece is at the opposite end of this spectrum.)
Calling All Believers
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Shortly after Tecuciztecatl was released, I received an email from Dr. James Beacham at CERN inviting us to perform at a series of concerts that would combine experimental music with experimental science at the Large Hadron Collider in Geneva, Switzerland. He didn’t contact our booking agent, which would be how we generally receive offers for gigs, instead he sent an email to me, which would be how we generally receive crazy messages from our completely insane fans (murderous, delusional, poetic, threatening messages usually). I assumed the invitation was fake or a prank and replied that we would prefer to wait until they had successfully opened a pathway to interspatial dimensions and we’d play on the other side or that if that was unlikely to happen at a convenient time then perhaps we could set up our equipment right on the edge of a mini-black hole and perform as the Earth is being destroyed so we could release the concert film “Live At The End Of The World.” After a few messages back and forth, it was clear that he was legit and I apologized for being such a jerk. Soon I discovered poetry within the language of particle physics as well as a certain beauty in the idea that these scientists have devoted their lives to dreaming, searching and discovering basic principles that connect all things in existence. The song “Calling All Believers” refers to this devotion. “Energy Acceleration” compares the scientists to monastic life in medieval times and mystics trying to find and define the line between this world and the next and at the same time invoking the incredible amounts of energy needed to create the collisions experiments. The Patterns of Light LP was released in 2016 on London London Records and is about interpreting visions of light, trying to find universal truth with whatever tools available, it’s about the search for how everything works, why it works and how it got that way but also about being inspired on a basic level by the way a thing looks and how all your senses take in a thing. A thousand years ago Hildegard Von Bingen was writing about this same thing in letters, songs, medical texts, and had even developed her own language to use in her mystical writings, similar to Magma drummer Christian Vander using his own language for their concept albums or French black metalists Brenoritvrezorkre and Moëvöt.
The Light Inside You
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We get a lot of letters from fans, mostly weirdos though. I think it started when we released Song of Schizophrenia, that sort of connected us to a certain demographic I suspect. Here’s a recent typical message we received. “Growing up in Panama City, Mouth By Mouth and Livonia were like passages to other realms. I drank a ton of cough syrup at the time but those albums helped make life more livable. I was about to go to art school for sculpture and graphic design and the textures I heard on those records had actual shapes to them. Most music I knew at that time was flat or linear. I got them on cassette via mail-order from an ad placed in a bmx magazine. Mouth By Mouth arrived just before going to work at the amusement park and I was able to listen to it twice on the way thanks to the never-ending beach traffic. As luck would have it, I worked on “The Abominable Snowman” ride, basically a tilt-a-whirl inside a dome with lots of fog machine action, blue lights, mirrors, and lots of air conditioning. It took about 10 listens that day before it wasn’t as weird as when I first put it on. Maybe it was my bubblegum flavor/robitussin combo slushie on top of no-doz that pulled it all together, but it was probably a weird ride for a lot of vacationing beach tourists and townies when all they really wanted to hear was “Naughty by Nature” by O.P.P. I had no business running those rides at the age of 17 but I really loved how disorienting that ride could be with all the mirrors, the fog, the cold and for the final 90 seconds the ride would go in reverse. I had a buddy named Kevin that did acid at work and would repeatedly run the mini-train off the tracks and all the riders had to walk back through the woods for about a half mile that summer.”
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maria-scribbles · 4 years
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glitter + crimson (let’s start a riot)//part five
summary: in the aftermath of hurricane agatha, the pogues are thrown into a mess none of them are ready to deal with. things that don’t exactly top sailor’s ‘fun things to do this summer’ list: surfing in the middle of a hurricane, getting punched in the face by a stupid kook, and stumbling upon a mystery that turns her and her friends into the damn scooby gang. when she said she wanted an exciting summer, she should’ve been more specific. 🙃
word count: 8.1k+ (it just keeps getting longer and longer 😅)
ship: jj maybank x oc (sailor flynn)
warnings n stuff: mentions of abuse/neglect/gambling addiction, child abandonment, anxiety, self-worth issues, jj being both soft af and hot for his best friend, weed usage, underage drinking, unresolved sexual tension, sailor being thirsty, swearing, guns, fighting, blood, that one trope where two characters only call each other by their nicknames/last names until they don’t because of ~reasons~ that makes me lose my shit every time (like a lot of the obx fandom, i also headcanon that jj stands for jesse james), references to the three stooges (jj=moe, pope=larry, and john b=curly and that’s a fact lmao), to all the boys i've loved before, avengers infinity war, and david attenborough, and a line heavily inspired/influenced by taylor swift's "dress" (a song that happens to be on the playlist for this series)
a/n: we’re finally entering canon territory, y’all (with a few tweaks, of course!) but i’m determined not to make this a rehash/retelling word for word of the show ‘cause that’s just no fun, so expect smaller pieces (vignettes, i guess?) of storytelling as i expand on canon with sailor and the rest of the pogues. think of it like a mixtape of sorts, but with words instead of music if that makes sense lol. this part originally covered episodes one and two but i wrote so much that i had to split it, so we're just covering most of episode one for now (i still can't even believe how much shit actually goes down in the pilot lol). i was veryyyy excited to write the kegger at the boneyard 'cause some ~juicy~ stuff happens there lol. fun fact: the title of this part is a term used by surfers to refer to getting up at the ass crack of dawn to hit the waves. as always, this is unbetaed so any mistakes are mine. enjoy! 
gif credit to @jj-maybnks​ 
~Masterlist~
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part five: dawn patrol 
The next morning, Hurricane Agatha hits the island with all the force of a knockout punch; the sound of rain pounding against the roof echoes impossibly loud throughout the Chateau but Sailor’s bewildered shriek is even louder.
“You’re gonna what the what?!”
John B shrugs as the stunned redhead, lounging on the couch, looks away from watching the storm and fixes him with a wide-eyed stare.
“I’m gonna surf the surge.”
“Hell yeah, bro!” JJ yells from his spot as her footrest, punching his fist in the air and she sends him an exasperated look, both at his enthusiastic encouragement of John B’s downright moronic idea and the fact that she already misses the feeling of his thumb drawing circles on her bare ankle.
“Are you two insane?”
“Possibly.” John B states, grinning when JJ follows that up with, “Absolutely.” The blond boy pushes Sailor’s legs off his lap as he stands which earns him another displeased scowl from the redhead. “Come on, Sail. Live a little.”
“Oh, I’ll live alright, but you idiots won’t,” She takes his offered hand, letting him pull her to her feet and then down the hall after John B as she continues, “because this is the dumbest idea you’ve ever had.”
“See, this is why we keep you around,” He replies, laughing when she dodges his attempt to ruffle her hair and dashes forward to beat him to the spare room. “We do something stupid, you and Kie read us the riot act. It’s tradition.”
Sailor grabs her long-sleeved rash vest -if she’s going to sit on the beach to keep an eye on these fools in the middle of a damn hurricane, at least she’ll wear something that offers a little bit of warmth- and heads to the bathroom to change. “Yeah, and then I’m there to patch you up when you inevitably hurt yourselves.”
“Can’t help that you have that healing touch.” His cheeky response floats through the closed door and she catches herself smiling -wide and just a little bit sappy- in the mirror.
After a quick detour to pick up Pope, who’s already drenched from sneaking out his window, the pogues (sans Kiara who never answered John B’s text in the group chat and, knowing her parents, was probably on hurricane lockdown) head to the beach, where the rugged gray surf hammers against the shore with unrelenting brutality. Sailor trails behind the others as they grab their boards and make a break for the water, blatantly ignoring the barriers that read ‘beach closed’ in large, impossible to miss letters. A few hundred feet down the coast, she can barely make out The Sandbar all boarded up for the storm and she thinks of her mother, wondering if she's riding it out inside or at home; either way Carmen's all alone and Sailor's stomach twists with guilt, both for letting her phone battery die so she didn't have to answer her calls and for leaving in the first place, even though it was the right thing to do for her damn sanity.
“These signs are here for a reason, guys!” She calls over the howling wind, squinting through the rain at the rough waves with her hands tapping uneasily against her thighs. Watching John B run into the ocean with reckless abandon (Pope following with a little more caution, thankfully) immediately puts her anxiety on edge so she sits down heavily on the wet sand, wrapping her arms around the knees pulled to her chest and looks up at the blond boy who stayed behind. “Aren’t you gonna join the other stooges?”
JJ shrugs at her question, glancing out toward their friends before dropping his board to the ground and taking a seat behind the trembling girl, his chest to her back. “This one can’t just leave you hanging out here all alone, lookin’ all sad and shit. It’s kind of pathetic.”
“Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special, J.” She smirks and scoots back in the sand, lips curling into a full-fledged smile when he lifts his arms to drape them over her shoulders. As he tucks her securely against his front, the warmth of his body helps ward off the biting chill of the rain, and so does the fact that he knows her so well, that he knows this is exactly what she needs to help calm the panicking butterflies in her stomach.
He leans close, lips brushing against the shell of her ear when he whispers his next words like a secret, low and just for her even when there’s no one around to hear them. “Trust me, Sail, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
She suddenly finds those butterflies in her stomach fluttering for a whole different reason.
-
The Chateau sits in complete darkness, the power having been knocked out since they returned from dropping Pope off at his house that afternoon. Sailor thinks it’s about ten at night as she lies on her back on the mattress of the sleeper sofa, listening to the wind rip through the trees outside with Binx curled up at her feet. The spare room was way too hot without a working fan, even after she braided her hair off to the side and changed into a crop top and shorts, so she and JJ had returned to the living room where it was cooler, if only by a little bit.
John B has already retreated to his room for the night; he’d been acting quieter than usual since their little adventure at the beach but between a lantern-lit dinner of semi-stale cereal and passing a joint around, she never got the chance to ask if he was okay before he made his escape. JJ lies beside her with his limbs all askew and from the slow rise and fall of his bare chest she’s 99% sure he’s out like a light until, out of the blue, he mutters into the stagnant air, “Can’t keep your eyes off me, huh?”
She blinks heavily -that weed must’ve hit her harder than she thought because she hadn’t even realized she’d been staring- when he lazily turns his head to stare back, a halcyon grin on his face and in the dark, his pupils are blown so wide she can barely see the blue of his irises. Her hand itches with a longing to sweep that one stubborn strand of hair away from his forehead but instead she blindly slides it to the left until she finds his and holds on tight; his fingers automatically lace with hers even as the space between his eyebrows furrows and the smile falls from his lips.
“Sail?”
“I don’t think my dad’s ever coming back.” The redhead’s mouth blurts before her brain can catch up, heavy words lingering like a storm cloud ready to downpour. The thought had been weighing on her heart for a while now, from when she’d first suspected it two months ago, and it feels bittersweet to finally admit it out loud, even when she hadn’t planned doing it.
Her bedmate is silent for a long time as he looks at her through the shadows and she focuses on the touch of his palm against hers instead of the awful mounting pressure behind her eyes -hadn’t she promised herself she was done crying over her dad?- until he asks quietly, “Why? I mean, good riddance 'cause he's kind of the worst, but why?"
“A feeling,” She murmurs around the sudden lump in her throat, biting the inside of her lip hard enough that she tastes the metallic tang of blood on her tongue. “He...he usually comes back after a month or two but this time it’s been almost five.” A bitter laugh escapes from her chest and she shakes her head. “I guess he finally decided he’s done dealing with my worthless ass.”
JJ’s eyes flash like lightning as he rolls over to face her, the hand not entwined with hers reaching up to cup her cheek. “Sail, shut up. Don’t you dare say that.”
“Why shouldn’t I? It’s true,” She says sharply, words acerbic and biting and full of a self-hatred that’s been poisoning her heart ever since she was old enough -eight and far, far too young- to discern the way her dad’s love for her was fickle at best, non-existent at worst. “I could’ve been a better daughter- a perfect daughter- and he might still be here and my mom wouldn't hate me. I should’ve tried harder-”
“Jesus Christ, Sailor!” He interrupts, calloused yet gentle thumb wiping away the tears she just now registers sliding down her cheeks and the shock of hearing her full name come from his mouth makes the rest of her vitriolic thoughts fly out the window. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”
The image of him blurs through the darkness in shades of black and she closes her eyes, jaw clenched in an attempt to quell the tremble of her lip as he goes on in his low, soft voice, “You should’ve tried harder to do what, huh? What could you have possibly done better?”
She’s quiet for a long time, so long that her tears run dry and all that remains is smeared salt on her skin because she doesn’t have an answer. What could she have done? That terrible thought in her mind rears it’s ugly head again, the one that tells her she’s not good enough, that everything’s her fault because she doesn’t do enough, but when she asks it what more she can do, there’s no reply. There never is.
“Hey, look at me.” She hears the rustling of sheets and feels his fingers slip from hers before they come to rest on her cheek, both hands now cradling her face; she opens her eyes to find him hovering over her and the sheer lack of distance between them makes her heart skip a beat. “You...”
“What about me?” Her voice cracks as she speaks and in a mirror of her from earlier, JJ shakes his head, causing that stubborn strand of hair to once again fall into his eyes.
“I wish you’d see yourself the way I do.”
Her breath catches in her throat. “And how do you see me?”
“Fucking amazing.” He says simply and in the dark, she can barely see the flush slowly starting to creep up his neck. “Smart, brave, and loyal as hell. A beautiful badass who doesn’t take shit from anybody. A girl who listens when someone needs to be heard.”
The redhead stares up at him with wide green eyes as he goes on and on, listing all these wonderful little things that her traitorous mind has a hard time processing, let alone believing; he really thinks about her like this? “You care so damn much,” “You’re kind but not afraid speak out,” “You’re the one I trust the most.”
Her hand slowly releases its tight grip on the sheets and slides up his bare arm, feeling the heat of his skin under her palm as she touches his face, not trusting herself to speak because she’s so afraid of saying something dumb or stupid and ruining everything ('like I always do,' her mind echoes).
“You’re my best friend, Sailor, and yeah, you’re not perfect. You drink and you smoke weed and you don’t get straight As in school but fuck, you’re real and so not worthless.” He says each word with such conviction that its impossible not to believe him, as much as her brain screams at her not to. “And I want you to know that what your parents think of you doesn't matter at all, got it?"
Without warning, she flings her arms around his neck and JJ loses his balance, falling onto her with a soft oof of surprise but Sailor doesn’t even feel the extra weight as she rests her face against his shoulder and finally finds her voice. “Thank you.”
He takes her with him when he rolls onto his side, arms wrapped tight around her waist and nose buried in her messy braid. “Just...trying to do the right thing, I guess. For once.”
She pulls back at his words, then leans forward and slowly presses her lips to his flushed cheek, just missing the corner of his mouth. She lets them linger for a beat longer than necessary before leaning back -not too far, just enough- and looking him in the eye. “Thank you, Jesse.”
He usually hates being called by his first name (she found that out pretty quickly into their friendship, “never call me Jesse” being one of the first things he ever said to her) but he just looks at her with a soft, endearing smile on his face as he leans back onto the bed, once again bringing her with him. “Promise me something, Sail?”
She glances up at him from his shoulder and meets his eyes. “Yeah?”
His fingers tuck an escaped red curl behind her ear. “Just...be you. Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks.”
She wishes it were that easy, that she could just step inside her mind and flip a switch and she could stop all those thoughts that’ve plagued her for years but it’s not. It’s gonna take time -time and a lot of patience and maybe even a miracle- but damn it, she’s gonna give it her all, not just for herself but for him and the rest of the pogues, too, the best friends she's ever had, so she nods and settles back down at his side. “I’ll try my best, J.”
“I know you will.”
-
"Sail, you're the best swimmer out of all of us. Think you can dive down there and check it out?"
The redhead peers over the edge of the HMS Pogue and into the water, where the murky shape of the sunken Grady-White sits thirty feet down on the bottom of the marsh, then nods at the rest of the pogues, an excited grin on her face.
"No problem," She answers John B, hopping up onto the very tip of the boat's bow with practiced ease before diving headfirst into the water to JJ's yell of "diver down!" It's dirtier than usual because of the hurricane but she doesn't let that stop her as she swims down and down until she reaches the top of the boat and pulls herself the rest of the way onto the deck, carefully scanning the area for...fuck. Honestly, she's got absolutely no clue what she's looking for but she assumes she'll know when she sees it.
'It' turns out to be a motel key, resting all alone on the floor by the steering wheel and she quickly reaches out to snatch it, sliding the silver key ring around her finger securely. When she pushes off toward the surface, she leaves the ghostly Grady-White behind with more questions than answers. 
The rest of her friends are lined up in a row along the boat's railing, all staring at her with near identical expressions of anticipation as she breaks through the water and holds the key aloft with a triumphant smile.
"The Summer Winds Motel called, they want their key back!"
-
A little later that evening, Sailor would really regret finding that damn key but right now, she's having a great time dancing at the Boneyard with Kiara at the traditional post-hurricane kegger, second refill of beer in hand, spiked with Fireball from the flask tucked in her back pocket. To her, dancing's a lot like surfing -steady feet, swiveling hips, snapping shoulders- and she thinks that might be the reason she's so bad at it, anticipating the fluidity of water instead of the solidness of dry land. Or it could be that she just doesn't have rhythm when she's a little buzzed. That works, too.
"Ow, Sail!" Kiara winces as the redhead steps on her foot again, rolling her eyes fondly when she throws her head back with a loud, tipsy giggle.
"My bad, Kie!" She twirls in the sand, hair dancing around her shoulders like fire, and finds herself spinning right into a herd of dancing tourons, all too drunk to care that she's spilling her beer all over their feet. Large, olive-skinned hands grab her waist to spin her again and she laughs, smiling over her shoulder at a cute dark-haired touron as he slides one palm over to settle against the bare skin of her lower back. She pushes one hand on his shoulder with just enough resistance that he doesn't get too close into her personal space as he leans in to speak in a low Southern drawl, brown eyes turned a pretty bronze in the glow of the nearby bonfire.
"This probably isn't the best thing to say to a beautiful girl but you kind of dance like a giraffe."
Sailor bursts out laughing at that. "Hey, I think giraffes are very elegant creatures so I'll take that as a compliment!" 
The boy grins and she smiles, too, letting him take her free hand and pull her into the throng of dancing bodies. He's almost as bad a dancer as she is but he's fun to talk to and together they gleefully show off their worst moves until their feet hurt -she's lost count of how many times she stepped on his toes- and her solo cup is empty. "Come on," She says and this time, she's the one to grab his hand and lead him over to the closest keg, where John B's dishing out beer with an expert flourish.
"'Sup, Sail," He lifts his chin in greeting as he fills her cup, smirking when she immediately pulls out her flask and adds a long pour of Fireball on top. "Who's your friend?"
"JB, this is Adam, he's visiting from Tennessee. Adam, meet John B, one of my best friends and a total moron," She makes quick introductions, smiling into her drink as he scowls and playfully sprays some beer at her feet before filling another cup and holding it out to the other boy with a jab at her expense.
"Be careful around her, man. She's a handful." 
The touron accepts the drink with a shrug and a quick wink in her direction. "Good thing I happen to like 'em a little crazy."
Ugh. More than a little miffed at that, she rolls her eyes and takes a long sip of beer to hide her annoyance when Adam laughs and slings his arm around her shoulders. Calling her a giraffe was actually kind of cute in a very weird, endearing way but he instantly lost whatever points he had with her the second that 'c' word came out of his pretty mouth. She glances around the Boneyard while the boys start talking about surfing (she scoffs to herself, what does a farm kid from Tennessee know about that?), scanning the crowd for the rest of her friends and a chance to ditch him. Kiara's sitting on a big piece of driftwood, chatting up a stunning, deeply tan girl with glossy black hair -she waves when their eyes meet and shoots Sailor a cheeky grin before returning to her conversation- while the ever awkward Pope seems to be stuck in the middle of one of his rambles about autopsies as he stands around the fire, the willowy blonde beside him looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. She'd deliberately lost track of JJ a while ago, after she watched him getting a little too close to a tiny brunette, his hand low on her back as she passed him a drink and ran her fingers up his bare arm, coaxing that killer smile of his onto his face (that girl may have gotten his smile but Sailor got his eyes and they watched her until she pointedly turned away).
Honestly, she's a bit -okay, a lot- peeved. Here she is, thinking that they're the closest they've ever been before (they've always been close, ever since that day in sixth grade, but this is a whole different kind of close), and just when she feels like she may finally be ready to admit some things, some feelings, he's off doing who knows what with another girl; to be fair, she's off with another guy that she'd, until a minute ago, fully planned on kissing, but that's only because of him! Him and some weird need she has to keep him looking at her, to make him jealous -she shakes her head and takes another swig of her whiskey-spiked beer. Nope, nope, not gonna think about that. 
Poor Pope looks like he's really struggling so Sailor pushes all thoughts of her blond best friend from her mind and goes to rescue him, ducking out from under Adam's sweaty arm and walking away without a backwards glance, ignoring the confusion in his voice as he calls her name. She pushes through the crowd to her friend and steps right in front of the girl he's trying to talk to, grabbing his hand with her free one.
"Come dance with me?"
The smile of pure relief that breaks out over his face makes her own widen as he lets her pull him back through the mass of bodies to a less-crowded part of the make-shift dance floor, the tension bleeding out of his hunched shoulders with every step.
"You're an angel, Sailor." 
She laughs and wraps her arm around his shoulders, leading him in a carefree twirl across the cool sand. "Tell me something I don't know."
Like a leaf caught up in a whirlwind, he's helpless to resist her infectious joy as they dance, grinning like fools and poking fun at each other; for a while, the redhead tries to forget about stupid, clueless boys and focuses on Pope who, while still a clueless boy, doesn't expect anything from her but pure, unconditional friendship that she's all too willing to give (although she did have a teensy little crush on him when they first became friends, she got over it pretty fast the second he started talking about the bodily functions of dead bodies in explicit detail). She shares her drink with him, giggling at the way his face morphs from curiosity to disgust to delight at the taste of her cinnamon beer concoction and lets him down the rest while she drinks straight from the flask that she pulls from her back pocket. 
"You've got a shadow." Pope says, slightly nodding his chin over her shoulder and she takes his hand again, slowly spinning herself under his arm to take a quick glance, rolling her eyes when she spots Adam staring at her from the edge of the crowd. "You know him?"
"Unfortunately. Thought he was cute, then he called me crazy." She tucks the whiskey away with a shrug at her friend's sympathetic wince, then steps closer to him and raises a conspiratorial eyebrow. "Wanna help me tell him to take a long walk off a short cliff?"
"Uh-"
"I think I can help with that," A familiar voice cuts off Pope's reply as JJ suddenly appears at her side, slipping his hand into her back pocket to spin her right into the circle of his arms before he plucks the flask from the other and takes a big sip in one smooth kinda sexy move. "Straight Fireball? Damn, Sail."
The redhead carefully schools her features into a blank mask but her body has other ideas, one hand instantly settling on his chest like it's second nature and her face flushing from more than just the alcohol as she casually replies, "You know I like things a little spicy." Completely aware of the way he's watching her every move, she snatches the whiskey back and downs the little bit that's left, trying and failing to ignore the thrill that shoots through her at those bright blue eyes of his darkening when her tongue darts out to lick her lips. Pope rolls his eyes at them both before muttering a quick 'see ya' and hastily melting back into the crowd. 
"So, who're we telling to fuck off?" His voice is just a little strained and she feels her cool facade start to crack as she scowls, subtly tilts her head toward where Adam's still staring at her with an expression that looks like he ate a sour lemon. JJ spins her around to take a very conspicuous peek and her mouth curls into a grin, mask breaking completely when he shoots the touron a glare that screams 'try me, I dare you'; the heat from his hand still in her pocket burns as he leans in until his forehead rests on hers. "Let's give him a show."
Sailor hums and pretends to mull it over even as she coyly snakes her arms around his neck and pulls him closer, the harder panes of his body sliding almost sinfully against her softer curves as they sway together, "I don't know, you looked pretty cozy with that other girl earlier..." Is it kind of petty to bring it up? Yes, yes it is, but she can't resist toying with him like he did to her, just as she can't help the breathless gasp that escapes her lips when his fingers press hard into the toned flesh of her ass through her shorts.
"Why, Flynn, are you jealous?"
"Please, I saw that glare you gave him. If anyone's jealous, it's you, Maybank." She fires back while carding both hands through his hair and the pure gratification she feels at his slight shiver is nothing short of euphoric. Out of the corner of her eye, she barely takes notice of the frown Adam sends their way before he turns and stalks off toward the other side of the beach; honestly, she's so caught up in JJ and everything about him -the slow swing of his hips, the hands burning hot against the strip of her back exposed by her crop top, the darkened look in those ocean eyes- that she'd completely forgotten about the touron she danced with earlier in an effort to forget the boy she's dancing with now. She should've known it wouldn't have worked: Sailor could never forget JJ, no matter how hard she tries. He's like a permanent mark on her, a tattoo inked in gold, a beautiful, wonderous scar that she never wants to fade away.  
"Seems like we scared him off so I don't have to worry about that anymore." His flushed face is so close she can feel his breath on her lips as he speaks and her eyes quickly flick down to his mouth on their own accord.
"And what about me?" She asks, twirling her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, heart beating fast in anticipation as he smirks wickedly at the way her own face turns cherry red.
"Sail, babe, you don't have to worry about a damn thing."
All one of them has to do is tilt their head and everything will fall into place and she can once again know what it's like to kiss him-
"Let it go, Topper!" A sudden, annoyed shout breaks the two apart before they can close that final distance (Sailor's not sure who would've made the first move and she's both relieved and disappointed they won't get to find out), turning away from each other in tandem toward the gathering mass of bodies chanting 'fight, fight!' at the shoreline. 
"JB, he's not worth it!" At the sound of Kiara's voice, they take off running across the sand and shove their way to the front of the crowd just in time to see Topper Thornton in all his frat boy glory get absolutely slammed with a hard punch to the jaw, courtesy of John B. The kook barely hits the ground before he's back on his feet and lunging forward to tackle him into the water, landing a hit of his own square in the eye.
"What the hell happened?" Sailor grabs Kiara's elbow and the dark haired girl looks at her with wide eyes as the boys continue to roll around, exchanging brutal blows while a stunned Pope watches from her other side.
"I don't even know, they just started wailing on each other!"
JJ stands silent to Sailor's right, jaw clenched and hands curled into fists as he stares at the brawl and she reaches over to wrap her fingers around his wrist, thumb calmly running circles on his skin.
"Top, seriously! Stop it!" Sarah Cameron stands in the sand just before the crashing waves, yelling furiously at her boyfriend and throwing her arms in the air when he ignores her. "What is wrong with you?"
The moment Topper lands three punches in a row on John B's battered face, Sailor decides she's seen enough. She rushes forward without thinking to grab the blond boy's arm, pulling as hard as she can in an attempt to get him off her friend and barely has time to register what's happening when the fist he was aiming at John B suddenly swings at her. It connects solidly with her left cheek and makes her stumble back, her hand flying to her throbbing face before she goes down hard onto her butt in the surf. 
"What the fuck, Thornton?"
"Did you just punch a girl?"
"Ohhhh shit!"
A cacophony of voices yells from the shore as the kook boy stares down at her, momentarily stunned when he realizes who exactly he hit, and it gives John B an opening to wrestle him back into the water and land a solid punch right to his nose. Everything happens so fast after that that the redhead, still reeling in a wide-eyed daze, has a little trouble keeping up. First, Kiara and Pope splash through the waves to her side, kneeling down to help her to her feet with their arms around her waist. Second, Topper gains the upper hand and straight up tries to drown John B, holding his head under the water while Sarah screams at him to stop. And third, JJ -reckless, bold, protective JJ- pulls out that damn stolen gun, effectively bringing the whole mess to a grinding halt when he stalks forward and presses the barrel to the side of Topper's head.
"Your move, broski." He threatens and the beach is so quiet everyone can hear the click of the safety being switched off. The kook slowly raises his hands in the air and John B emerges from the water, stumbling forward onto his hands and knees with a horrible wet cough.
It's all too much for Sailor's poor tipsy self to take. The world spins beneath her feet as her head starts to pound and her shaking fingers fail to find purchase on Kiara's and Pope's shoulders.
"Guys, I don't feel so good," She manages to whisper and their looks of concern (the former) and panic (the latter) are the last thing she sees before her legs give out and everything goes black.
-
The first thing she registers is the pain that radiates from the left side of her face, her whole head throbbing with every beat of her heart and the sound of loud whispering right by her ear isn't helping at all. 
"That's the best you can do, J? Seriously?"
"The power's out! I can't exactly pull ice out of my ass, Kie."
Something semi-cold gently rests against her cheek and she audibly sighs at the little bit of relief she feels, her hand sluggishly rising to hold it a little closer as she mumbles, "I wouldn't want your ass ice anyway." At least she tries to: her mouth feels like it's full of cotton and she's pretty sure the only thing that comes out is unintelligible gibberish.
Sailor opens her eyes and finds herself lying on her back on the sleeper sofa at the Chateau, a passed out John B to her right. Pope sits on the edge of the mattress by his side, holding a beer bottle to his friend's black eye and he sends her a relieved smile when he notices she's awake.
"There she is," JJ says from her other side and she turns to face him, not at all surprised to find him already looking at her, and the unabashed concern in his eyes sends a golden warmth through her whole body. Her fingers slip down the hand that's still holding the bottle to her cheek so she can run her thumb over the delicate bones in his wrist in a silent thank you.
A different, softer hand rests on her knee and she tears her gaze away from his face to smile at Kiara as she says, "Good to see you're okay, Sail."
The redhead sinks back into the pillow in embarrassment and covers her eyes with her free hand. God, she really passed out, didn't she? She passed out after taking one lousy punch to the face by a fucking kook, no less. How completely mortifying. She swallows thickly and sounds like a chain smoker when she says, "I'm so sorry, guys. I'm a total idiot."
The other three conscious pogues start protesting all at once -apparently there's many, many, different ways to say she's not an idiot- and the resulting volume of their combined voices is enough to make her headache even worse. She sits up and scoots back until she's propped against the couch and sets the now warm beer on the side table before massaging both of her temples.
"Will you please shut up, I can feel my brain beating in my skull."
For a second, there's wonderful, blissful silence and then:
"Holy shit, thank you," A groggy voice says to her right and she turns to watch a bleary-eyed John B claw his way back to consciousness. "You guys are fucking loud."
"He lives!" JJ shouts, ignoring the four glares sent his way and reaching over to clap his hand against the brunet boy's shoulder. "Welcome back, dude."
"Ugh," He suddenly rolls onto his stomach -Pope deftly catching the bottle when it nearly falls from the bed- and his muffled voice floats out from the pillow he shoves his head under like an ostrich in the sand. "Knock me back out."
"Aww, poor baby." Sailor gives his back a sympathetic pat and chuckles softly when he blindly feels around for her arm, pushing it away with another deep groan and a 'fuck off, Sail' that lacks any type of venom.
"Okay, now that you're both kind of conscious, let's agree that neither of you will ever fucking do that again. Got it?" Kiara addresses John B and Sailor as she stands from the bed and crosses her arms, fixing the latter with a piercing look that makes her feel like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar; she opens her mouth to defend herself but before she can say anything, Kiara turns her furious gaze to JJ and points an accusing finger at his face. "And you! What the hell were you thinking pulling that damn gun out, huh?"
"Jesus Christ, Kie!" He suddenly rockets to his feet and throws his hands in the air. "Sail got socked in the face and JB was getting fucking drowned, I wasn't really thinking much at all!”
The dark haired girl can't seemed to think of a response to that and looks away, staring at the floor with her jaw clenched as Pope, ever the mediator, rises to his feet, too, and rounds the bed to step between them placatingly.
"Let's just drop it for tonight, okay? They need to rest." He says, nodding toward the two still on the bed before wrapping his hand around Kiara's elbow and turning her toward the front door. She immediately pulls her arm from his grasp but still nods in agreement, the hard look in her eyes softening when she glances at her injured friends.
"Yeah, okay." She says and glances down at her watch, wincing when she catches sight of the time. "My parents'll kill me if I'm not home soon, anyway."
"Come on, I'll take you guys home." JJ says with a conciliatory look in her direction as Pope tosses him the Volkswagen's keys from his pocket and when she nods back, a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth, Sailor knows that all is forgiven, at least for now. 
"Are you sure you're good to drive?" She asks and immediately rolls her eyes at his sarcastic reply of "Yes, Mom," and the obnoxious wink he shoots her.
The trio leaves after a quick round of goodbyes and John B waits until he hears the sound of his van driving away before finally emerging from under the pillow and rolling onto his back.
"Sensing the immediate danger has passed, the ostrich cautiously pulls its head out from the sand..." She says in her best David Attenborough impression, laughing when he tosses the pillow at her head with an amused grin.
"Ha ha. I was trying to avoid getting a Kie lecture," He explains, running both hands down his face with a heavy sigh. "It feels like my head's gonna explode."
"You and me both, dude." She carefully probes at her swollen cheek and is more than a little surprised to feel the beginnings of a scab forming near her eye. She knew Topper landed a solid punch but she didn't realize how solid that hit was until now as she catches sight of the tiny bit of drying blood left behind on her fingertips. 
"That looks like it hurts. You okay?" John B asks and she looks up from wiping her hand clean on her shorts, stiff from dried saltwater, with a wrinkle of her freckled nose.
"I'm alright. How about you? No offense but your eye looks like shit."
"I'll live." He answers with a shrug as he pulls himself upright on the mattress and leans his head against the back of the couch. "Thanks, by the way."
"For what?" 
He sluggishly turns his head to look Sailor in the eye and shrugs again. "For trying to help me out. Sorry I got you punched."
She smirks and reaches over to give his hand a brief, friendly squeeze as she replies, "It's not your fault I got myself punched. I'm sorry your ass almost drowned."
He snorts at that and she's relieved to hear it, knowing that he can still joke around and he's not, like, completely traumatized or something. Poor guy's already got enough to deal with without adding a mental breakdown to the list. She swings her legs over the edge of the mattress and slowly stands before taking a tentative step forward; when her knees hold and she doesn't fall flat on her face, she makes her way to his side and holds both hands out to him with a small, lighthearted smile.
"Yeah, you're delirious. Near death experiences do that to you." She says, helping him to his feet and, after looping his arm over her shoulders and sliding hers around his waist, the two teenagers carefully shuffle down the hall in the dim light of the emergency lantern on the kitchen table to his room, where she unceremoniously dumps him onto his bed. "Sleep it off. And for the love of God, please change. You smell terrible."
She goes to leave as he laughs again, tugging his shirt off and tossing it into the growing pile of clothes near the closet before saying, "Hey, Sailor?"
The redhead pauses with one foot in the hall and leans against the doorframe. "Yeah?"
"You know you're a badass, right?"
She laughs and sends him a wink but her heart is oh so light as she turns and heads to the spare room, calling back over her shoulder, "Nice to see someone acknowledge it. Now go to bed!"
-
The sound of the Chateau's front door opening and closing startles Sailor awake and she blinks heavily, wondering when exactly she'd fallen asleep. Last thing she remembers she was staring out at the fireflies through the open window as she steadily ran her hand down the length of Binx's back and their ethereal glow, combined with the breeze dancing around her shoulders, must've pulled her right under. Down the hall, she hears a loud thump, followed by JJ cursing as he runs into something and she giggles to herself, rolling onto her side to face the hall. He appears in the darkened doorway a minute later, rubbing his knee with a scowl on his face and she laughs louder at his quiet, venomous hiss of "fuck that fucking chair."
"Rude. It's not the chair's fault you always run into it." She teases and he shoots her a flat, unamused look before turning to glance down the hall toward John B's room, his fingers holding tight to the door frame.
"He's okay, you know. Told him to get some sleep." His head swings to face her when she speaks with soft words and even in the dark, she can see the way his tense shoulders slowly relax and his hand loosens, falling back to his side as he nods, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.
"And you?" He asks, his eyes never wavering from hers as he kicks his boots off and pulls his shirt over his head; the sight of his messy hair and the muscles in his arms make it a little hard for Sailor to breathe, the gentle wind she once thought of as cool now doing nothing to help calm her flushed skin when she scoots over in bed to give him room to lie down next to her. Binx looks as disgruntled as a cat can look as he loses his comfy spot and jumps down from the bed, only to immediately leap onto the windowsill and stretch out.
"What about me?"
JJ rolls over to face her, reaching one hand up to cup her injured face and runs his calloused thumb under the cut on her cheekbone. "Are you okay?"
Nodding, she shifts closer and lays her head on his outstretched arm, covering his hand with her own and effortlessly fitting her fingers into the spaces between his. "I'm fine. Even better, now."
He leans forward to rest his forehead against hers. "Good, 'cause I don't know what I'd do if you weren't."
When those pesky butterflies come raging back with a vengeance, she realizes she's fighting a battle she hopes to lose.
-
The sound of a conversation in the kitchen, low voices drifting through the closed door of the guest room wakes Sailor early the next morning. Sunlight filters in through the windows and she squeezes one eye shut against the painful brightness, the other still squished into JJ's shoulder. His arm is a welcome weight slung over her hip and his deep, even breaths are soft against her forehead as he sleeps on, dead to the voices down the hall. With the corner of her mouth turned up in a small smile, she smooths his fine blond hair away from his face and runs her fingers along his jawline before carefully sliding out from under his arm and quietly heading toward the kitchen.
Pulling her hair into a messy ponytail, she rounds the corner and stops short when she catches sight of the person standing by the table, her cheerful 'good morning' getting stuck on her tongue; she was expecting Pope and Kiara, not the goddamn sheriff! Shooting John B a wide-eyed look that makes him shake his head (what the fuck did that even mean?!), the redhead forces a smile and hastily offers her a wave.
"Uh, good morning, Sheriff. Sorry to interrupt, just, uh, grabbing some water."
She just nods in acknowledgement before turning her attention back to the brunet boy and Sailor breathes an inaudible sigh of relief. Holy shit, is that woman scary. She heads to the sink and keeps one ear on the conversation as she quickly fills a glass with water and pops two aspirin, the headache from last night made even worse by the addition of a whiskey hangover. 
"I didn't realize you had company, John B. Wild night?" The sheriff asks and Sailor meets her friend's eyes again, her anxiety rising when she sees his thinly veiled panic. Her back to Peterkin, she silently implores him to say something, anything -hell, she even tries to subtly mime surfing with her hands to help him out- but he stays silent, so she gathers her courage, plasters a smile on her face, and twirls to face her.
"Busy day, actually. We went surfing all day after cleaning up the yard." She says, jerking her thumb toward the heap of broken branches piled by the fire pit visible through the living room window; when the sheriff turns to look, she quickly elbows John B in the side, ignoring his huff of surprise as she nods her head in her direction.
"Yeah, surfing! All day." He blurts out, sending Sailor a lukewarm glare when she quickly mouths 'what the fuck was that?' before they both straighten up and spin back to the older woman just as she turns to face them again.
"Right." Peterkin hums and arches one eyebrow as she glances back and forth between the two teenagers. "Now tell me, how'd you both get those bruises? They look pretty painful."
"Oh, this?" Sailor asks, pointing at her cheek with a casual shrug, "I tried to hang ten and bit it pretty hard. My board caught me right in the face."
Peterkin looks at her for a beat longer than normal and the redhead does her best to keep her expression neutral as her palms start to sweat. "Surfing, really? Thought you were pretty experienced in that department."
John B adds, offering some much needed back up, "Even the pros wipe out every once in awhile, you know?" He crosses his arms and leans back against the counter. "My board got me good, too."
"Yeah, it just was not our day," She says with a nervous chuckle, refilling her water and slowly starting to back out of the kitchen, pretending she doesn't see the dismayed look her friend sends her way; her anxiety can't take another second of the sheriff's piercing gaze and she needs to get away fast, lest she start recounting every single second of their activities both legal and not so legal- from yesterday in explicit detail. "And I'm still pretty tired so I'm just gonna go back to bed for a bit. Nice talking to you, Sheriff."
After disappearing around the corner before either of them can reply, she creeps down the hallway, keeping her footfalls as light as she can, and she's so focused on trying to listen in on what Peterkin's saying that she runs smack into JJ, standing in the doorway of the spare room. His arm instantly darts out to wrap around her waist and pull her close, keeping her from falling right on her butt as he says, "There you are-"
"Shhh!" Sailor hisses quietly, covering his mouth with her hand, "The damn sheriff is here!"
He mumbles something into her palm but she she holds a finger to her lips, pushing him back into the room and softly closing the door behind them before pressing her ear against it and dropping her hand from his face. He mirrors her position with a question clear as day in his wide eyes, 'what the fuck?', arm still looped around her lower back.
"She's grilling him about yesterday," She says simply, then turns her attention back to the faint voices floating through the door. The duo listens in silence, trying and failing to discern what's being said until they hear the sound of the sheriff's boots on the front porch and her squad car tires crunching through the gravel as she drives away and they exchange a worried look. JJ had it right: what the fuck, indeed. 
"Holy shit, guys," John B's voice suddenly says from the hallway. The door opens before they have time to back away and it sends them sprawling to the floor in a twisted pile of limbs; the brunet boy -who'd usually find something like that hilarious- barely reacts to their position and sends them both a tense frown, his next words dropping like a damn anchor in the marsh.
"We need to go check out that Grady-White again, and fast."
Sailor groans and lets her head fall back onto the floor with a thunk. "Here we go."
-
let me know what you think! fun fact: ostriches actually do put their heads in the sand, but it's not because they sense danger. female ostriches bury their eggs to keep them safe from predators and they'll occasionally stick their head into the sand to check on them and give 'em a lil turn 😊
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adwdwd · 3 years
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signed a petition to the governor for young Johns’ pardon
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sceptilemasterr · 5 years
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MW Act 1, Scene 6 - Analysis
Title: Most Wanted: The Hollywood Killer (A CIU Screenplay)
Main Pairings: Dave x Sam
Other Pairings: N/A
Genre: Full Rewrite
Rating: PG-13 for violence, blood, swearing, alcohol, and sexuality
Summary: While talking to the crime lab’s eccentric trio, Sam and Dave learn more about Tull... and each other.
Previous Scene: The Other Case
Masterlist: Link
INT. L.A.P.D. STATION - CRIME LAB - NIGHT
The crime lab is a scene best described as “organized chaos.” Pop music blares from a speaker sitting at the workstation of a man with short black hair, glasses, and a blue cardigan, spinning idly in his chair. This is NIKHIL MANTHA, forensic specialist. Opposite him at another workstation is a man with messy brown hair and a patterned sweater, gritting his teeth in annoyance as he stares at his computer screen; this is REZA FASSIHI, data analyst.
HAYLEY ROSE (ON SPEAKER) (singing): Sirens flickering in your tail lights, your long-lost love’s your only flaw...
REZA: Nikhil, can we please turn that off? This wasn’t a good song four years ago, and it’s still not good now!
NIKHIL: But that’s the point! Pop princess Hayley Rose experimenting with a contrived club album with a hokey country twist? “Outlaw” is incredible in its American awfulness.
REZA: How does that make any sense?!
As the music plays in the background while they continue, the third occupant of the room ignores their argument entirely. MIRASOL BAUTISTA, criminal profiler and psychoanalyst, sits at her own workstation, frowning at whatever she is reading on the screen. She wears a white blazer and has her dark hair tied back into a bun.
NIKHIL: ...it isn’t my fault your tastes are embarrassingly mainstream-
MIRASOL (muttering): The contrarian hipster act, clearly a false front meant to get on people’s nerves. Typically seen in those with low self-esteem and-
NIKHIL: Ouch. I heard that, Mirasol.
MIRASOL: Oh, I know.
The door swings open, and Sam and Dave enter. Sam blinks in surprise at the music. Dave doesn’t bat an eye as he strides up to Nikhil’s workstation and hits the power button.
DAVE (deadpan): Oops.
NIKHIL: Hey! Excuse me, Dave, we were listening to that-
REZA: Correction: you were listening to that.
NIKHIL: Mirasol secretly enjoyed it!
MIRASOL: Excuse me, what?! I will murder you, Nikhil.
REZA: She’s not kidding, Nikhil. You weren’t here for the time she brought a live grenade to work, but-
DAVE: Look, as entertaining as this conversation is, right now, we’ve got a killer to catch. And more importantly, we’ve got company.
Mirasol, Nikhil, and Reza all look up and notice Sam for the first time.
DAVE: This is Sam Massey, U.S. Marshal. Massey, meet the Three Stooges. That’s Reza, our data analyst and resident computer nerd.
REZA (frowning): “Nerd?” Excuse you, Dave, I’m a data analyst and digital security consultant and a moderator for the Crown and the Flame official fansite... Okay, I may be a ‘computer nerd.’
Sam nods, clearly not understanding most of what Reza is talking about.
SAM: ...Pleasure.
DAVE: Over there is Nikhil, forensic analyst and card-carrying hipster.
NIKHIL: Nice to meet you, Marshal. I have to say, this ‘thing’ you’re doing with your outfit? Talk about defying the mainstream L.A. look with your rough-and-tumble style. Such a middle finger to the masses.
Sam crosses her arms, frowning.
SAM: I’m not trying to do a “thing.”
NIKHIL: Exactly, right? Everyone else is always trying too hard. But you get it!
SAM: Uh...
Dave shakes his head in amusement before moving on.
DAVE: Anyway, the cheerful one over there is Dr. Bautista, our criminal profiler and psychoanalyst.
MIRASOL: Just call me Mirasol. These two clowns don’t go by fancy titles, why should I?
SAM: I can respect that.
DAVE: Right, well, that’s the introductions. So, what have you all got for us?
NIKHIL: Perfect timing, actually. I’ve just finished my initial run-through of the forensics. Don’t have much to work with, but I was able to analyze those bullet casings you found, plus the autopsies and ballistics.
SAM: Let’s hear what you’ve got. I’ve got a hunch I want confirmed.
They walk over to Nikhil’s workstation. Nikhil swivels in his chair to face them.
DAVE: How’s it look?
NIKHIL: The autopsy and ballistics reports indicate an abdominal wound from a sawed-off shotgun, fired from approximately three feet away. Casings confirm standard double-aught buckshot. (shakes head) Can’t have been pretty.
SAM: Point-blank, straight to the gut. Tull’s specialty, the sick bastard.
DAVE: Anything else?
NIKHIL: Well, I’ve got an educated guess on the type of shotgun he used. It’s hard to tell for sure, but from what we could get from the camera footage, I’d say an old-school Easton 850, sawed-off.
SAM: Wait. Did you say an Easton 850?
NIKHIL: Why, does that mean something to you?
Sam gets a faraway look in her eyes, staring at a point on the wall. She says nothing for a long moment. Finally, she shakes her head and turns away.
SAM: No. You just... don’t see those every day.
From her station, Mirasol watches Sam with a calculating look. Dave notices and walks over to her, Sam following.
DAVE: Dr. Bautista, what do we have?
MIRASOL: I’ve told you not to call me that.
DAVE (smirks): Why do you think I keep doing it?
Mirasol rolls her eyes and turns away from him, facing Sam.
MIRASOL: Beckham had your file sent over, Massey. Frequent physical altercations. Questionable use of force. Repeated altercations... fascinating stuff.
SAM: Alright, alright. Let’s cut to the chase. What have you got?
MIRASOL: Let’s see... Propensity for violence and hot-headedness, such as when you brought in a fugitive with multiple broken bones. Then the report of you telling a fugitive with hostages to, and I quote: “Grow a backbone, dirtbag.”
NIKHIL: Ooh, I want that on a shirt.
MIRASOL: And then there’s the raid on the New Flores Cartel, where the massive property damage perfectly showcases your flagrant disregard for-
SAM: Okay, okay, we get the idea! Lemme rephrase: what have you got on Tull?
MIRASOL: Oh, don’t worry. I’ve already put together his profile too, or at least a preliminary one from what little we know.
DAVE: Perfect. Let’s hear it.
MIRASOL: He’s a hired killer, but he’s brutal when he doesn’t need to be, even when it makes his job harder. Clearly enjoys inflicting pain. He’s clever but unstable, with textbook signs of egocentrism, obsessive behavior, and possible narcissism.
DAVE (sarcastically): This guy just gets better and better.
SAM: Anything else?
MIRASOL: Just that... look. I’m not easily disturbed; hell, I read the profiles of psychopaths for a living. Sometimes even for fun. But this guy... he scares me.
Sam nods in understanding.
SAM: Then we just gotta be scarier.
She turns away from Mirasol and heads over to Reza’s station, Dave following close behind. As she approaches, Reza springs awkwardly to his feet, accidentally knocking over his chair as he offers an excited handshake.
REZA: Wow, a Texas Marshal, surrounded by L.A. glitz and glamour! Love it! The fish-out-of-water thing is a classic trope in the industry, y’know.
Sam shakes his hand, looking puzzled.
SAM: The... data analysis industry?
REZA: What? No, the entertainment industry! I’m also an aspiring screenwriter, you know.
NIKHIL: Emphasis on the ‘aspiring’ part. He’s never actually finished a script.
REZA: Shut up, Nikhil! Anyway, my point is that I’m a bit of a film buff.
SAM: Huh. Sounds like that might come in handy in this town.
REZA: Yeah, I know, it’s not really... wait, what?
SAM: Hey, from what I’ve seen, Hollywood’s a special kind of crazy. Might help to have someone who speaks the language.
REZA: Ha! Boom! How’s that defeat taste, Nikhil? Someone actually appreciates me for once!
Nikhil groans and rolls his eyes as Reza picks his chair back up and sits down.
REZA: And speaking of ‘Hollywood’ and ‘crazy,’ by the way, I’ve pulled up some info on the main victim.
DAVE: Gavin? Could be a lead. But what about Tull?
REZA (frowning): Not much. From what I can tell, he surfaced suddenly about a year ago as a paid killer. Other than that, I could barely find anything.
SAM (frowning): What do you mean he ‘surfaced suddenly?’ Where the hell was he before that?
REZA: It’s the weirdest part of this whole thing. Far as I can tell, he emerged from thin air last year. His first kill happened in rural Montana, and before that... the guy just vanishes.
DAVE: Fake name, maybe?
REZA (shakes head): Nothing I can find. But I’ll keep looking. Gavin, on the other hand... with how much he’s posted about himself online, the guy practically did my job for me.
Reza swivels his monitor. Sam and Dave look at the screen, which is displaying a celebrity blog site titled “Dirty Hollywood.”
REZA: His personal blog is plenty already, but the real interesting part is this one. “Dirty Hollywood.” It’s a celeb gossip blog, and with the things he’s posted, he’s made quite a few enemies.
SAM: Could lead us to whoever hired Tull.
DAVE: Agreed. So, who’s on the list of Gavin’s potential enemies, then?
REZA: Honestly? Literally everyone he’s posted about. I can list all of them for you, but we’d be here all day-
DAVE: Give us the three most likely, then. Anything in the past week or so
REZA: Well, let’s see... he leaked some emails from screenwriter Josh Neely, exposing him as a plagiarist.
DAVE: Hold on. I spotted Neely on the tape, just before the murder. He was arguing pretty fiercely with Gavin!
Sam raises her eyebrows.
SAM: Damn. We’ve got our connection, then.
DAVE: Not so fast. Lots of celebrities were at that party, it doesn’t mean anything on its own. Reza, who else?
REZA: Gavin also posted evidence that Ryan Summers was making large, discreet payments to an unknown woman. Sure, Gavin never actually says she’s a call girl, but he sure as hell implies it.
DAVE: Huh. Ryan never mentioned that...
SAM: First-name basis with Ryan Summers? Really.
DAVE: Yeah, he’s a good friend of mine. We play poker on the weekends.
SAM: I’m not sure what’s harder to believe: that your poker face is that good, or that you’re actually telling the truth.
REZA: Anyway, the third suspect is pretty timely, considering Nikhil’s taste in music. Gavin leaked some of Hayley Rose’s, uh... illicit photos from her personal phone.
SAM: She’s the singer you were just listening to? How did Gavin get all this?
REZA: Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t legal.
Dave sighs, shaking his head in disgust.
DAVE: Typical. Thanks for the leads, though. Let us know if you can find any more on Tull, okay?
REZA: You got it.
Sam and Dave step toward the door, out of earshot of the analysts.
SAM: So what the hell does any of that tell us?
DAVE: I admit it’s not much to go on. What about the gun?
SAM: What about it?
DAVE: You seemed familiar with that specific model when Nikhil mentioned it. Do you know something?
SAM (muttering): Ugh. Of course. Goddamn detective.
Dave raises an eyebrow.
SAM: Nothing that would help the case. Look, Tull’s a killer for hire, right? So, first things first, we should look into the people he offended. Find out who hired him.
DAVE: That’s fair. It’s as good a place as any to start. Let’s go; I’ll drive.
SAM: Hope you drive fast. Every second we waste is another second Tull’s out there, a free man.
Sam heads for the door, but stops when she notices Dave hasn’t moved. He studies her, frowning.
SAM: ...What?
DAVE: Look. If we’re gonna be partners on this, I need you to level with me. Why are you really here?
SAM: It’s my job-
DAVE: Massey, I’m a detective. Half my job is knowing when someone’s lying. We do have Marshals in California, y’know. Something made you get on a plane and fly halfway across the country to nab Tull yourself. Something makes you look like you’re gonna punch a hole in the wall when you think about him.
Sam sighs in defeat.
SAM: Alright. Fine. It’s personal.
DAVE: There. Was that so hard?
SAM: Look. Tull killed someone close to me. I’d rather not say any more right now.
Dave nods and opens the door to head out of the lab.
DAVE: That’s fair. Listen, Massey: we’re gonna get this bastard. That much I can promise you.
SAM: Damn straight.
Next Scene: Good Cop, Bad Cop
CIU Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @endlesshero1122 @bbaba-yagaa @acidsugar0
MW Tag List: @griselda1121
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aion-rsa · 3 years
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Disney+ UK Star Launch: Complete List of New TV Shows and Films
https://ift.tt/2P7STsN
We came for The Mandalorian, stuck around for WandaVision, and, as we wait for The Falcon and Winter Soldier and Loki to arrive, there’s now a huge pile of new catalogue additions to work through, courtesy of Disney Plus’ Star brand.
Star launched on the Disney Plus streaming service in territories outside of the US (where Disney already has a home for adult drama in Hulu) on the 23rd of February. It’s added over 75 TV shows and 280 feature films here in the UK, including the entirety of Lost, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The X-Files, Glee, Prison Break, Sons of Anarchy and Scrubs as well as cult favourites Firefly, Flashforward, Terriers and more. There are also some UK debuts in the form of the Star Originals listed below.
Film-wise, there’s ample reason to go back to the 90s in the form of Arachnophobia, Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, Con Air and a host of others, plus…well, it’s almost 300 films. Chances are you’ll find something to tickle your fancy. Households with kids should know there are new parental controls to set too, ensuring that nobody gets any unwelcome surprises.
Here’s the complete list of titles so far:
Star Originals
Big Sky
From Mr TV himself, David E. Kelley (Doogie Howser, Chicago Hope, Ally Mcbeal, Big Little Lies) comes a nine-part crime thriller starring Ryan Philippe and Vikings‘ Katheryn Winnick. Based on the 2013 novel The Highway by C.J. Box, Big Sky is the story of a series of missing girls and a private detective/cop trio with a messy personal history who team up to find them. It aired on ABC in the US last winter.
Helstrom
There’s very little fanfare for this comic book show‘s UK debut, which met with mostly negative reviews on release and was cancelled after 10 episodes, but Marvel completists will want to take a look. Tom Austen and Sidney Lemmon play the Helstrom siblings Daimon and Satana, the children of serial killers who hunt down the worst of humanity.
Love, Victor
Another Hulu original making its UK debut, this teen drama spins off from celebrated gay teen 2018 film Love, Simon. It’s narrated by Nick Robinson, who played Simon in the original film, and follows the story of a Puerto-Rican/Colombian-American teen living in Atalanta. Reviews for the 10-part first season were strong and it’s been renewed for a second.
Solar Opposites
Rick and Morty‘s Justin Roiland and Star Trek: Lower Decks‘s Mike McMahan are the creators of this adult animated comedy series about a family of aliens (pictured above) forced to seek refuge in middle America. Season one was enthusiastically received, and a second run is due to air in the US in March. Read plenty more about it here.
TV Series
According To Jim, Seasons 1 – 8 Alias, Seasons 1-5 American Dad, Seasons 1-16 Animal Fight Night, Seasons 1-6 Apocalypse World War I, Season 1 Apocalypse: The Second World War, Season 1 Atlanta, Seasons 1-2 Blackish, Seasons 1-5 Bloody Tales Of Europe, Season 1 Bloody Tales Of The Tower, Season 1 Bones, Seasons 1-12 Brothers & Sisters, Seasons 1-5 Buffy The Vampire Slayer, Seasons 1-7 Buried Secrets Of WWII, Season 1 Burn Notice, Seasons 1-7 Castle, Seasons 1-8 Code Black, Seasons 1-3 Cougar Town, Seasons 1-6 Desperate Housewives, Seasons 1-8 Devious Maids, Seasons 1-4 Drugs, Inc. Seasons 2-7 Family Guy, Seasons 1-18 Feud: Bette And Joan, Season 1 Firefly, Season 1 Flashforward, Season 1 The Fosters, Seasons 1- 5 The Gifted, Seasons 1-2 Glee, Seasons 1-6 Grey’s Anatomy, Seasons 1-15 The Hot Zone, Season 1 How I Met Your Mother, Seasons 1-9 Inside North Korea’s Dynasty, Season 1 The Killing, Seasons 1-4 LA 92 Lance, Season 1 Lie To Me, Seasons 1-3 Lost, Seasons 1-6 Mafia Confidential Maradona Confidential Mars, Seasons 1-2 Modern Family, Seasons 1-8 O.J.: Made In America Perception, Seasons 1-3 Prison Break, Seasons 1-5 Raising Hope, Seasons 1-4 Resurrection, Seasons 1-2 Revenge, Seasons 1-4 Rosewood, Seasons 1-2 Scandal, Seasons 1-7 Scream Queens, Seasons 1-2 Scrubs, Seasons 1-9 Sleepy Hollow, Seasons 1-4 Snowfall, Seasons 1-3 Sons Of Anarchy, Seasons 1-7 The Strain, Seasons 1-4 Terra Nova, Season 1 Terriers, Season 1 Trust, Season 1 Ugly Betty, Season 1-4 Ultimate Survival WWII, Season 1 Valley Of The Boom, Season 1 Witness To Disaster, Season 1 WWII Bomb Hunters The X-Files, Season 1-9 The 2000s: The Decade We Saw It All, Season 1 24, Season 1-9 24: Legacy, Season 1 The 80s: The Decade That Made Us, Season 1 9/11 Firehouse The 90s: The Last Great Decade? Season 1 9-1-1, Season 1-2
Read more
TV
WandaVision Episode 7 Theories Explained
By Kirsten Howard
TV
Gina Carano Was Fired from The Mandalorian, But Should Cara Dune Live On?
By John Saavedra
Films
The 13th Warrior 42 to 1 9 to 5 Adam (2009) The Air Up There The Alamo (2004) Anna And The King Annapolis Another Earth Another Stakeout Anywhere But Here Arachnophobia Australia Bachelor Party Bad Ass Bad Company (2002) Bad Company (Aka: Tool Shed) Bad Girls (1994) Bad Times At The El Royale Baggage Claim The Banger Sisters Be Water Beaches Before And After (1996) Belle Beloved (1998) The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel Best Laid Plans Big Trouble Billy Bathgate Black Nativity Borat: Cultural Learnings Of America For Make Benefit Glorious Nation … Boys Don’t Cry Braveheart Breaking And Entering Bringing Out The Dead Broadcast News Brokedown Palace Broken Lizard’s Club Dread Brothers In Exile Brown Sugar Bubble Boy Bulworth Bushwhacked Can’t Buy Me Love Casanova (2005) Catch That Kid Cedar Rapids Chain Reaction Chasing Papi Chasing Tyson Choke The Clearing Cleopatra (1963) Cocktail Cocoon: The Return Cold Creek Manor The Color Of Money Come See The Paradise The Comebacks Commando (1985) Con Air Conan The Barbarian Confetti Consenting Adults A Cool Dry Place Cousin Bette Crazy/Beautiful Crimson Tide The Crucible Cyrus Damien – Omen Ii The Darjeeling Limited Dark Water Dawn Of The Planet Of The Apes The Day The Earth Stood Still (2008) The Day The Series Stopped Day Watch Deadpool 2 Dead Presidents Deceived (1991) The Deep End Deep Rising Deion’s Double Play The Devil Wears Prada Devil’s Due Die Hard 2 Die Hard With A Vengeance Double Take Down And Out In Beverly Hills Down Periscope Dragonball: Evolution Dreaming Of Joseph Lees Drive Me Crazy The Drop Duets The East Ed Wood The Edge Encino Man Enemy Of The State Enough Said Evita Exodus: Gods And Kings The Fab Five (2011) Far From The Madding Crowd (2015) The Fault In Our Stars The Favourite The Final Conflict Firestorm (1998) The Fly (1986) For The Boys Four Falls Of Buffalo French Connection II The French Connection From Hell Gentlemen Broncos A Good Day To Die Hard Good Morning, Vietnam The Good Son (1993) A Good Year The Grand Budapest Hotel The Great White Hype Grosse Pointe Blank Guilty As Sin Gun Shy The Happening Here On Earth High Fidelity High Heels And Low Lifes Hitchcock Hoffa Holy Man Hope Springs (2003) I Heart Huckabees I Love You, Beth Cooper I Origins I Think I Love My Wife Idiocracy In America In Her Shoes Independence Day Independence Day: Resurgence Inventing The Abbotts Jennifer’s Body The Jewel Of The Nile John Tucker Must Die Johnson Family Vacation Jordan Rides The Bus Joshua Just Married Just Wright Kingdom Come Kissing Jessica Stein Kung Pow: Enter The Fist Ladyhawke The Ladykillers (2004) Last Dance (1996) Le Divorce The League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou Live Free Or Die Hard Looking For Richard Mad Love (1995) The Man From Snowy River Margaret The Marine Marked For Death The Marrying Man Martha Marcy May Marlene MASH Max Payne The Maze Runner Medicine Man Melinda And Melinda Metro Miami Rhapsody Miller’s Crossing Moulin Rouge (2001) My Father The Hero Mystery, Alaska The Namesake Nature Boy Never Die Alone The Newton Boys Night Watch (2006) No Mas Nothing To Lose Notorious Office Space One Hour Photo Oscar And Lucinda The Other Woman (2014) Our Family Wedding Out To Sea Pathfinder (2007) Phat Girlz Phone Booth Planet Of The Apes (1968) Planet Of The Apes (2001) Pony Excess The Poseidon Adventure (1972) Post Grad Powder The Preacher’s Wife Pretty Woman Primeval The Puppet Masters The Pyramid Quills Quiz Show Ravenous Rebound Renaissance Man Revenge Of The Nerds Ii: Nerds In Paradise The Ringer Robin Hood (1991) The Rocker Romancing The Stone Ruby Sparks Runaway Bride Rushmore Ruthless People The Savages Say It Isn’t So The Scarlet Letter Sea Of Shadows The Secret Life Of Bees Separate Lies The Sessions Shadow Conspiracy Shallow Hal Shining Through The Siege Signs Simon Birch A Simple Twist Of Fate The Sitter (2011) Six Days, Seven Nights Sleeping With The Enemy Solaris Someone Like You Soul Food Spy Hard Stakeout Starship Troopers Stoker Summer Of Sam Super Troopers (2002) Surrogates Swing Kids Taxi (2004) Terminal Velocity Thank You For Smoking There’s Something About Mary The Thin Red Line (1999) Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri Three Fugitives The Three Stooges (2012) Titan A.E. Tombstone Toys Trapped In Paradise Tristan & Isolde Up Close & Personal V.I. Warshawski Veronica Guerin The Village (2004) Von Ryan’s Express Waiting To Exhale Waitress Waking Life The War Of The Roses The Watch (2012) The Waterboy The Way Way Back What’s Love Got To Do With It When A Man Loves A Woman White Men Can’t Jump William Shakespeare’s Romeo + Juliet Win Win Woman On Top Working Girl (1988) The X-Files
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The X-Files: I Want To Believe
Disney+ UK, now including Star is available for £7.99 per month
The post Disney+ UK Star Launch: Complete List of New TV Shows and Films appeared first on Den of Geek.
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