Do You Think The Hewitt Family Would Be Against Natives? Or Just Feel Indifferent Towards Them? It's

Octopus and shrimp

yes yes yesss

If you can't handle these men as they are, find a different man to obsess over 🫀

PSA:

STOP TRYING TO SLIM DOWN THOMAS!

Yes he has strong arms but he's FAT! He is a big man with a tummy, no he does not have hard pectorals or abs. Leave that man alone!! Let fat characters exist!!!

Also no, he's not baby girl. He is a grown ass man with severe mental issues and trauma. He is complicated. I'm sure over time that Thomas would be more affectionate towards his partner but that would easily take 6 months to YEARS to develop. I know big, bad mask men can be hot but it's also important to acknowledge the character and what they represent! 😭

Justice for Thomas and Bubba!

Spot on {Especially Rabid, Poacher's Pride, Mean, Preacher's Daughter}

Songs that remind me of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre remakes/ Thomas Hewitt.

I’ve compiled a list of songs (pretty much all by Nicole Dollanganger and Ethel Cain) that are reminiscent of these movies. ⏬

• Dog Teeth, Rabid, Alligator Blood, Poacher’s Pride and Executioner by Nicole Dollanganger all literally seem like they were written about Thomas. It’s genuinely uncanny.

• Mean by Nicole Dollanganger is also very reminiscent of Hoyt, at least the first part of the song.

• Two-Headed Mother by Ethel Cain for Luda Mae.

• And of course, pretty much the entire Preacher’s Daughter album is so fitting for the TCM remakes. Especially Inbred, Strangers, Family Tree, Ptolemaea, and August Underground. The entire theme and story behind the album is so incredibly similar.

I hate you I hate you I hate you TCM 2003. I rewatched it whilst working on the very small fanfic and I got to the scene at 1:17:40 - 1:18:30 before tweakin out. What do you MEAN Thomas DROPS the chainsaw and Morgan didn't think to pick it up?? And when Erin finally gets up, SHE DOESN'T PICK IT UP EITHER?? SHE JSUT HITS HIM?? HE NUDGES HER ONCE AND SHE FLIES ACROSS THE ROOM?? THOMAS WASN'T EVEN GIVING HIS ALL, BRO HAD ALL ODDS AGAINST HIM BUT STILL WON FROM FUCKING PLOT ARMOR {Thank god, I didn't want him to die but Jesus fucking Christ STAND UPPP}

I gotta chill out. But like seriously, there are so many instances in horror movies that make me so mad; STAND UP PLEASE

He's just a girl

Chop top time

Half-Cocked {WIP} Snippet / Synopsis

No, the title is not a sex-pun {but it could be}

TW: SA/Rape, Groping, Extreme Language, TCM-Canon-Typical Violence, Gore, Period-Typical Racism + Sexism {No slurs}

Here's a snippet of the fic I'm working on. This is essentially a draft so feedback is completely fine! I have no idea how this will go nor when it will be done, I do apologize. Reader is gender-neutral + race-neutral. {THIS IS NOT THE FULL THING; Will most likely be heavily altered once the final product is published} 🫀

____

Not much was left of that forgotten town. The funding was gone, as were the people. After the meat plant shut down, residents lost their purpose in Fuller. It was a shadow of the life previously flourishing there - something only the wildlife could frolic in; Which is exactly why you were here. Miguel, a childhood best friend of yours, wanted to enlist near Dallas. He’d brought you and some mutual friends along promising tickets to a music festival, which you had accepted on the means of exploring the state. It had seemed ideal then but the overwhelming heat of the Texas sun proved otherwise. As you leaned your head on the window; August, who had been sitting in the passenger seat, began to mumble - Something about “needing to fix the air conditioner.” He always was one to complain; Miguel often joked about his ‘particularness’, saying he was a primma-donna at times. Though, he wasn’t too annoying; Not today anyway. A sweet guy with a kind smile, a bit too kind at times. Theia, Miguel’s sister - and mutual friend of yours, had her hair entangled in the wind with her head out the back-passenger window; Flowing in deep curls and coils. 

Driving through the backroads wasn’t too entertaining, requesting a scenic route didn’t make it any better either. You fussed with the lace of your shoe - bending and untying, bending, untying, bending, untyi- 

“Hello, did you hear us?” 

You quickly turned your head, releasing the worn laces from your hands. You felt a small tap on your bicep - It was Edith. Edith was a classmate-turned-girlfriend of August’s, one of Miguel’s friends. She was nice, just a bit impatient, which had been amplified by the unforgivable heat. 

“We’re gonna stop at a gas station in about 3 miles, okay?” 

“Yeah..that’s fine. I needed a break anyway.” You said; Your legs had been feeling a bit numb from the lack of use. Sure would be nice to get your blood flowing. And Lord, did it do just that.

__

It had been hours since that drive; Since you’d made it to the community center; Since you’d felt safe. August was long gone; last you saw of him was his spotted blood-trail leading to the basement. The harsh screeching of that steel door sliding open, paired with the hiss of August’s nails as he dug them deep into the walls, attempting to prolong the inevitable torture. Edith; Dearest Edith. Her throat hoarse as she wailed, bleeding through the walls of the decaying house. Miguel, sweet Miguel. He was tied down the chair beside you, half-conscious. Dried blood painted his right temple, flowing down from the gash which plagued his hairline. His lips looked so mundane, as did his usually deep complexion. His head was tilted towards you, clouded eyes staring weakly. As your head lay defeatedly against the crest rail, the beaded eyes of a deer - long dead, glared. It scowled at the two of you from its head bust, nailed to the middle wall. Below it, two windows and a thin table dressed with picture frames and a cloth suffocated by years of dust and dirt. As you tried to think clearly, a pair of footsteps stuttered behind the walls. Strong and angered footsteps pounded the withered wooden floors, followed by frantic and unsteady ones. The sheriff - pseudo-sheriff - forced Theia into the dining room, her wails of protest filling the already claustrophobic atmosphere. As he threw her into the chair opposite of Miguel, another set of footsteps followed in. The ‘barbaric, chainsaw-wielding psycho,’ as Edith had called him, approached Theia. His swole hands took the rope from the sheriff’s aged ones, binding Theia’s wrists and ankles to the chair limbs. 

“There you go, that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” The sheriff taunted, his perverted eyes traveling down her form. “I tend to prefer blondes but, hell, I know a pretty thing when I see one.” 

The sheriff cupped Theia’s shoulders as he forced his lips upon her head. His lecherous movements didn’t go unnoticed by anyone; Especially not Miguel. Even in his weakened state, he spat at the sheriff, his eyes filled with contempt.

“Get the fuck off her, you fucking whore!” He screamed - The sheriff immediately turned to Miguel, his eyes filled with slight shock. That shock was quickly overturned by indignation. 

“Now who put you the fuck incharge?” He mockingly questioned as he walked over to Miguel, grabbing his hair and shoving his head into the table; “Last time I checked, this badge is the authority around here. I make the demands; I challenge the rules, not candy-ass hippie soy-boys like you.” The sheriff retorted as he let go of Miguel’s head, leaning his arms against the crest rail; “Get a grip on yourself, son; This shit don’t fly in out here, you got that?”

Miguel was now barely breathing, his eyes were glossed over and almost completely closed. 

It hurt so much to see him fade. The light which was once rampant within him had disappeared. He weakly opened his eyes, their lids fluttering under the warm lights. You thought maybe he had gained the strength for something. Just do something. But he couldn’t. His eyes inevitably shut again as he steadied his breathing. 

“Goddamn it..” You defeatedly whined. Your wrists struggled between the rope as it dug into your already stripped skin. 

The brutish butcher had been standing in the corner of the room; Observing. He didn’t seem enthusiastic or encouraging of the matter; Rather - dissociated. His hands grasped onto the strings of his apron, bending and untying, bending, untying; Just as you had earlier. It was an intricate silence between the five of you; The sheriff had already gone back to leeching off Theia, and you couldn’t bear to look. Soon enough, the elderly woman from the community center presented a covered pot amongst the few of you; Placing it down on the aged lace that blanketed the old wooden table. 

“Tommy, set the table for us, dear.” She said as she looked over towards Theia and the sheriff. “And you, give her some room! Don’t want to spoil dinner with your whirlwind of trouble.” 

The sheriff lightly scoffed, but left Theia to rest. He stood behind ‘his’ chair at the head of the table, opposite to you. He mumbled a soft “No need for bellyachin’..” before adjusting his back. 

As ‘Tommy’ returned with the plates, an elderly man appeared behind him. He approached the empty spot at the table and positioned his wheelchair accordingly; His expression often seemed dull and exhausted - That is until he saw a woman he fancied. His smug and slimy eyes would wander up and down as his body heat heightened. It was revolting. Luckily, he had no interest in Theia - he had voiced that many times. 

“Where’d you put that other one? The blonde.” He impatiently asked. The sheriff scoffed in reply, turning his head unamused. 

“In my room, that’s where. Ain’t none of your concern, now is it?”

“What? But you have that one right over there! You know I don’t like ‘em like that-” Monty protested, only to be cut off.

“Watch your mouths! I will not have any fighting at this table, do you understand me?” Luda Mae declared. She wasn’t one for unnecessary confrontation; Especially not over ‘ungodly’ topics such as these. 

Both of them rolled their eyes, parting ways as they sat back. Thomas was sitting beside Theia, though he seemed uncomfortable. He kept staring between you and Miguel, only looking away during conversation. You were terrified to say the least; How could you not be? Your friends, your only support system, murdered in front of you. And now you’re forced to eat with the perpetrators? Tears you didn’t recognize fell from your eyes - mixing with blood and dirt to create a streaky film over your cheeks and neck. You tried to control your breathing, attempting to draw as little attention to yourself as possible. Nothing could’ve prepared you for this. Nothing. You hopelessly looked around the room, gravitating towards Thomas. He was still staring at you. Though his body language portrayed his enervation; His muted blue eyes looked consistently curious, and crazed. The staring continued for some time until the sheriff - Hoyt, interrupted:

“Bow your heads - Let's give thanks for the bounty that's been given us.”

___

This is so ass I'm sorry lmao {Again, NOT THE FINISHED PRODUCT} :)

Yearning for a fat southern man with mental issues who may or may not be 6'5 and might have a crazy family

need him like this

The urge to just clean the Hewitt household is incredibly strong, I know that Luda Mae is old and is having difficulties doing a couple of things. But for dear god, that house looks like it has been abandoned and vandalised for years!

Oh absolutely. The pictures were taken before and after filming was complete - The actual house was built in the mid-late 1800s, with little care. Cleaning teams were hired to conceal the mold and rot within the wood and wallpaper so they cast could actually perform. It's definitely a house full of dust, mold, rot, rust, and overall poor circulation.

Please, can you do a part two of what @Thewolffairytaler asked for about Thomas's eyes? Like the victim just starts to plead with Thomas about not hurting her, she's not desperately pleading, but she's at a point where she is on her knees as she is gently holding his left hand and is just pleading. Maybe even kissing his knuckles as her eyes tears up a bit. She's not scared of Thomas exactly, but she is scared of the idea that he will hurt her. Please? PLEASE? 🥺

Yes of course! | Pt.1

_____

"There you go...attaboy, Tommy. Finish the job like you always do." 

Hoyt knew his way around manipulation, around temptation. He knew the family’s hunger would worsen with even the smallest decrease in food. They’d been hungry before, - starving, famished; They would never go hungry again. 

Tommy..his name was Tommy - No, Thomas. You could use that, right? Say a few sweet words, kiss and grab at him. Just gotta get the chainsaw out of his hands first.

“Well, what the hell are you waiting for? Crank it up! Show that bitch what happens when you fuck around and stay long enough to find out.”

Hoyt was getting impatient. What the hell was he (Thomas) thinking? Putting the family in such danger all for a piece of tail - Selfish. At Least when he (Hoyt) did it, they were tied down..nothing could get in the way of the family. 

Thomas was conflicted - On one hand, he had this gorgeous girl cooing in his ears about his eyes. It felt so good to be wanted. But did she really want him? Did she mean it? She couldn't've..

He revved the chainsaw a final time, the loud buzzing of the blade crowding the room. 

“Hell yeah, Tommy. Show ‘er how it’s done.” Hoyt chuckled as he turned his heel to walk back up the stairs - He had..”business” to attend to; Which in your case, heightened your chances of survival. 

“Wait wait wait wait wait - No, no, no, no, no, please..we could work this out, couldn’t we? Please?” 

Thomas shook his head - She’s not worth it, Thomas - He thought to himself. Finish the job..

With drying tears painting your cheeks, you shakily held your hands out and shook your head lightly. “Tommy, please.”

That rewired something in him. The way you said it - God had sent a succubus, hadn't he? A final challenge to prove his strength. Mama had always told him sex before marriage was a sin. Women who opened their legs for any man on the street, even if it was to save their lives, had failed their family, their future husbands, God, and most importantly, themselves. “They can’t be saved,” she’d tell him. She never used the word “whore” but his uncles did. He knew that’s what mama meant. She would've called you one if she saw what was going on down here..One less whore - he thought. 

“Tommy, I’m so sorry..” You whined as you knelt down. “We can work this out - You and me. I won’t hurt you, I ain’t gonna run away.” You didn’t even convince yourself that it was working. What were you doing? Helplessly pleading with a backwoods serial killer? It wasn’t gonna work…

Surprisingly, it did. Luckily for you, you ended up in the basement of a family with a very..protective yet starved and desperate guard dog. The chainsaw had stopped, though hesitantly. Thomas was looking at you with glazed-over eyes. He was in another word - most likely his own head, trying to rationalize his decision to spare you. You took the opportunity to carefully coax his hand into yours as you peppered kisses on his bruised and bloodied knuckles. That must’ve snapped him out of it - He jerked a bit as he looked down. He didn’t mind this angle: You looking up at him with teary eyes and shaky breath - He could get used to this. 

Get your head in the game, Thomas! - He could hear Hoyt’s figurative voice screaming at him from the back of his mind. It didn’t matter - He’d keep you. Safely. Whether in the backroom of the basement or in the shed, anywhere that his uncles couldn’t get to you. He’d sneak you food, bring you water in dirtied glass, bring in some of his old clothes for you to wear, and a pillow hidden somewhere in the guest room. He’d keep you safe - Just as long as you kept spoiling him with sweet words and soft kisses.

_____

As always, if you have more requests, questions, or I misinterpreted an ask, please let me know!

am I geeking twin

It's been one month since my first post on Tumblr...y'all

Love all of you so much thank you for interacting with my blog whether it's just passing through or one of my mutuals - love love love you 🙏🫀

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