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theroyalsims · 3 months

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BREAKING: GUS AND ANYA'S ENGAGEMENT INTERVIEW MAKES TELEVISION HISTORY

It's finally here, and everyone was definitely watching!

The 20-minute special was aired on the three biggest TV networks in the country, and royal fans were not disappointed! Gus and Anya answered some of the biggest questions in our minds, including their shared childhood in Rennaux, how Gus proposed with TWO rings, the proposal, and their upcoming wedding, of course!

Anya and Gus' much-awaited engagement interview aired last night, and over 32.5 million people - in Brindleton alone - tuned in, making it officially the most watched TV broadcast in Brindleton history.

The interview was conducted by veteran journalist and Brindleton Broadcasting Network senior correspondent Mr. Hank Hanson-Bradbury (HHB).

Snippets of the interview is reproduced below:

HHB: Before everything else, congratulations. Anya: Thank you. Gus: Thank you.

HHB: Has everything sort of settled down since the news broke? Gus: We're getting there. *laughs* Anya: Yes, but it's just a big relief that we're able to share it everyone, finally.

HHB: Everyone’s just very curious about how we got here. So, how did this start? When did you first meet? Anya: A long, long time ago. *laughs* Gus: *laughs* Yeah. We’ve known each other since we were children. Anya: We were co-workers? Weren’t we? *laughs* Gus: Yeah, we were. Anya: During summers, my siblings, and cousins, and I would 'work' at the Rennaux palace gift shop. We got paid in cakes and tarts and sweets. He had the same deal with his mum, apparently. Gus: Yeah, my mum managed the gift shop and she thought since I was hanging around so much, why not put me to work?

HHB: Did you know she was royalty? Gus: Yeah, but, you know... we were kids. I didn’t exactly understand what that meant, that sunk in much later when we were a little older. But when we first became friends, it was kind of like meeting other kids your age, except they lived in a castle.

HHB: So you were childhood sweethearts? Anya: Yes. He was my first boyfriend. Gus: She was my first girlfriend. We were friends for what seemed like forever, and then one day, I think we both kinda realised we had something special between us.

HHB: And then... life happened, you both grew up, went to school, worked… how did you to find each other after all these years? Anya: Well, I had some work done at a property I bought and he turned out to be the contractor. HHB: And you had no idea? Anya: Nothing. Not at all. His company was highly recommended by a dear friend, and all I knew was the owner’s name was “Gustavo.” We were in Tartosa, it’s a pretty popular name there, so I thought nothing of it. And then he showed up. To say I was shocked is an understatement. Gus: On my end, I was just told that we'd be doing an ocular of a prospect client's property. We were told it was for a VIP client, and since we do restorations, we get VIPs a lot. I was just as surprised to see her.

HHB: What was it like? Was it the first time you saw each other after so long? Gus: Yeah. Well, I’ve seen her in the papers, pictures but not in person. It felt like I was a little kid again. The boy working at the gift shop with the massive crush on his co-worker. Anya: It was a really big shock for the both of us. But I remembered his eyes. The beard was a new addition though. But I like it. It suits him very well. *laughs* Gus: Thank you. *laughs*

HHB: So from there, the "rekindling" started? Gus: Things slowly fell into place. Anya: It did.

HHB: Now, tell us about the proposal... Gus: I invited her to go on a hiking weekend with me in Rennaux. There’s a really nice trail, a little rougher but a lot less crowded that led to the famous cliffs. We’d gone hiking before so I thought I’d be able to surprise her. Anya: Yeah. We were hiking all afternoon. I thought it was just, you know, a typical hike in the woods. We love those. We often go with our dogs. But when we finally reached the cliffs, the sun was beginning to set. I was looking out at the coast, and telling him how my mum and dad got engaged there. Then when I turned around, he was down on one knee. I just remember crying. And saying yes, of course.

HHB: So it was a surprise? Anya: Absolutely. I had no idea. I mean, I was hoping. You know, when you’re with someone you really love, you really click with, it’s… you dream that one day, you’d have your happily ever after with that person. Gus: I’ve known for a while that it was her. It’s always been her. I had that ring in my pocket, my tool bag, my rucksack for at least a month. I’d been tempted to ask sooner many, many times, but I wanted it to be very special, very memorable for her.

HHB: Speaking of the Ring… it IS gorgeous. Quite stunning. Anya: It is. It really is. I love it. It’s very beautiful. I can’t stop staring at it. I’ve been wearing it everywhere. I even wore it out once, because I forgot to take it off… you know, since it hasn’t been officially announced yet. No one seemed to notice though.

HHB: Really? When was this? At the garden party. It was already too late because I’d already stepped out when I realised I still had it on, and the anthem was playing. I had to keep my hands clasped for quite some time before I could excuse myself. I hated having to take it off this past month. *laughs*

HHB: So Gus, tell us about the ring? Gus: Yeah, well, uh, I’ve always had this vision… what ring I hope she’d like. I brought my mum to the jewellers with me to help with the design. And when I saw the sketch, I could see her wearing it. HHB: So you designed the ring? Gus: Well, um, I picked the diamond, and I asked them to add more diamonds on the band and it’s got a little engraving inside. I also had them add a hidden sapphire underneath… to reflect her beautiful eyes. So, well, uhh, I helped design the ring? Maybe? *laughs* Anya: He actually gave me two rings! HHB: Two? Gus: Oh, yeah. Well, we were at her house a few days after I proposed and I saw her gardening in the yard wearing the ring. I think at that moment I realised that she needed perhaps a more... subdued ring for when she’s riding or gardening or playing with our dogs. Anya: It’s this really pretty gold band with a traditional Ekhkarean motif. I love it just as much.

HHB: But of course this is not the first piece of jewellery he’s given you? Let’s talk about the necklace. Anya: Ah. Yes. My locket. It’s a double-sided locket. He gave me that ages ago. Gus: It was a gift. For her seventeenth birthday. Anya: I remember that day. Gus: That… I saw it at a shop, and they let you personalise it. I wanted to get her something nice that she could wear. So I worked three jobs that Summer. I really wanted to get it for her. HHB: So he is “G”? Anya: Yes, he’s most definitely “G.” *laughs*

HHB: But I see that you also have something to remind you of Anya permanently inked on you? Gus: Yeah. I have two. But this one’s the much older one. I got it when we were eighteen? It’s the Tartosan “A” on my ring finger. It’s actually my first tattoo. I remember my mum throwing quite a fit. *laughs* Anya: I was so scared for him when he showed it to me. I mean, it was very sweet. It was very thoughtful, but I was so scared for him that he’d get in trouble for it. *laughs*

(Above: File photo: Gus has many tattoos, but one of the most prominent ones is a small letter "A" on his left ring finger.)

HHB: Speaking of mums and parents… did you ask The Queen and Prince Jacques before you popped the question? Gus: Yes. I know how much they love and value Annie, and of course, I respect The Queen and The Prince very much.

HHB: How did it go? I mean... talking to The Queen and asking for her daughter's hand... that's gotta be quite the experience? Gus: Oh, yeah. Wow. I mean, I was very, very nervous, I’m not going to lie. Al was there, too. It was after dinner when I finally had the courage to tell them, ask them. She’d stepped out with Ingrid - who’d been helping me. Thankfully, they were very supportive and they were all very welcoming.

HHB: And now the engagement… It’s rather short, for a royal wedding. It’s happening later this year? Anya: Yes. Later, this Autumn. It is a relatively short engagement, but thankfully, we have wonderful people helping us out, and we had a little over a month as a head start, which helped immensely.

HHB: So the dress has been picked? The venue? Anya: Yes. There is a dress. Or well, there’s going to be a dress.. hopefully. *laughs* And we’re just sorting some things out with the venue. Other details will be made public very soon.

HHB: Gus, you’re known to be very private and low key, but with this massive move, are you ready to become a public figure the groom to a future Queen? Gus: I know there will be changes, very big changes, but I’m very willing to learn. And I’m glad that I have Annie to help me, and of course, her Family, too. I’d love to be able to offer my help, my support to a much wider audience. I understand that the Royal Family has dedicated their life to service, and I think that’s a very wonderful and honourable way to live.

HHB: And your family? How have they taken the news? Gus: My mum’s very happy. My sisters are, too. They were in on it, the proposal, from the very start. And of course, they know Annie from way back, and they’ve gotten to reconnect. They all love her. Anya: They’re all been very kind to me. And I actually look forward to Gus coming home from Tartosa because his mum sends me the best homemade limoncello and pasta. The best I’ve ever had, hands down. *laughs* Gus: I just wish my dad was still around. I'm sure he'd love her, too. Anya: I would've loved to have met him, too.

HHB: So what's next for Anya and Gus? Children, perhaps? Anya: Hopefully. But we're taking it one step at a time. Gus: We've both grown up in very close families. We'd very much love to have our own family some day. But I agree, we're taking things at our own pace. Anya: For now, we're just very excited for the wedding. Gus: And spending the rest of our lives together.

HHB: Well, that sounds wonderful, and I think that's about it. Thank you very much, Your Royal Highness, Gus, for taking the time to chat with me. Anya: Thank you. Gus: Thank you very much.

The interview was done outdoors at the Palace's balcony overlooking the famous Brindleton Palace Gardens. The blooming bride-to-be wore a brand new and yet to be identified blue and white printed floral dress. Gus, meanwhile, looked handsome in his matching blue pinstripe suit.

Congratulations again to the happy and beautiful couple!

Meanwhile, we'll be keeping our eyes peeled for more royal wedding updates!

#ts4 #theroyalsims #ts4 simblr #simblr #ts4 royal simblr #ts4 royal story #ts4 royals #ts4 royalty #ts4 royal family #ts4 royal legacy #ts4 royal wedding #mystory #anya #gus #royal wedding

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from-the-clouds · 1 year

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texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. vii

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter |

chapter summary: Reader and Joel try (poorly) to keep their budding relationship hidden from Sarah. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 6.3k chapter warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY. Angst, PTSD (though not explicitly stated). References to abusive parents. A bit of a drunken brawl. Men being generally shitty and misogynistic. Alcohol and marijuana mention. Fluff. As always please dm if you have questions. a/n: Strap in, ya'll. This chapter is pretty heavy at times but I promise, it'll be worth it. Things have been going well so we needed to bring some drama! Also, some of my links are breaking and I try to update them but as of right now the masterlist should have links to all the chapters ! Also special shoutout to @str84pedro for reminding me to close out the 'Joel getting his wallet back' storyline. And @ay0nha for the Hank Williams joke. tysm my friends.

-June 27th, 2003-

“Joel.”

Pleasure swirls low in your belly, his name comes out as a throaty moan.

“Aren’t you-oh, fuck,” you manage. “-worried y-your neighbors might see?”

You’re splayed open on one of the patio chairs in his backyard, fingers curled in his hair. The dress you’d worn is hiked over your hips, thong pushed to the side. Joel has long since pulled your legs apart, one of them hooked over the cool metal arm of the chair, the other pressed against his cheek, his beard rubbing your skin raw.

“No.” His lips pull away from the suction they have on your clit, but the two fingers he’s got inside you continue to work diligently, scissoring and curling against a spot deep within you that serves as the cause for all your stuttering. “They shouldn’t be lookin’ over the fence,” he murmurs, voice surprisingly clear and steady considering what he’s doing to you. “And if you stay quiet, you won’t give them a reason to.”

Joel hums contentedly as he latches his mouth back against the sensitive bud, sucking furiously, and you do as you’re told, panting into your palm to keep your whimpers to yourself. It’s Joel who seems to be struggling the most to stay quiet, especially when you arch your back to press your hips into his face, and he moans against you. He loves going down on you – you’ve learned through lots of experience. As if to prove it, you look down to where he’s knelt between your legs and see that his free hand is squeezing himself over his jeans.

It’s only been ten minutes since you walked through his front door. Currently, you can’t remember what your plans had been for the night. Seeing a movie? Going to dinner? For a walk? Your brain is mush. But Joel had suggested you have a quick drink on his back patio before leaving and, well…here you are.

You can’t get enough of Joel, and yet, you never have to ask for him. When you have plans, they’re often abandoned, and you end up tangled in bedsheets together. Whether it’s his place or yours, he’s taken you everywhere and every way you can think of, but you still want more. He is just as insatiable.

Sarah has been away at camp for two weeks now, which means you’d actually gotten to spend an entire weekend together. This past Saturday, Joel had made good on a promise to spend an entire day in bed with you, and then Sunday was spent the same way after he’d revealed to you he had never had sex stoned. Well, we need to fix that, you’d said. It felt like a huge accomplishment when you were able to drag yourselves out of bed and clean up for long enough to grab a meal at a 24-hour diner that wasn’t far down the road. Such a short drive, even, that when you’d tried to suck him off in the car on the way home Joel had said there ‘wasn’t enough time.’

Of course, most of your flings started off with this phase, but Joel still found ways to surprise you at every turn. You didn’t know it was possible to be with someone who was so thoughtful, so sincere. It was easy to trust him, to be yourself with him, even if you were still learning how.

Tonight is your last night alone before Sarah returns from camp, and Joel’s determined to use it to his full advantage.

After you’ve come on his fingers, against his tongue – and he talks you through it – Joel pulls you onto his lap. He’s still on his knees, crushing you against him, and you can feel him straining through his jeans.

��We’re not gonna make it to the movie, are we?” It’s more of an observation than it is anything else, pulling back from one of his greedy kisses.

“You wouldn’t be upset if we didn’t go, would you?” There’s some sincerity in his expression, like he almost feels bad.

“Stay here with you, or go see a terrible action movie?” you say, shaking your head, steadying your breathing. “That’s a tough one.”

Joel rolls his eyes, but doesn’t hide his smile. “Want to go upstairs?”

“Sure.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

At this point you’ve been in Joel’s room more than once. But you notice new things each time. There’s photos of him and Sarah he has framed on his dresser, one from when she’s just a toddler, and he looks not much older than a kid himself. He has a stack of books there too, but they’re collecting dust, one of them is some sort of thick construction manual, and the other is titled Everything You Need To Know About Creating a Startup. You would sooner crack those open than you would your old law textbooks. There’s always a pile of clothes on the floor, and you don’t think the chair in the corner has ever not had a couple pairs of his work jeans strewn over the back.

Joel lays back on the bed, stretches out like a cat, his arms above his head, flannel and t-shirt combo lifting to reveal the swathe of hair that trails down and disappears into his jeans. You’re well accustomed to his body at this point, but it still doesn’t stop your stomach from flipping every time any inch of his skin is revealed to you. The muscles in his biceps flex as he props his head back on his forearm, looks over at you, pausing in the threshold. “Why are you bein’ shy all the sudden?”

“Can’t I just look at you?”

Joel’s face gets flushed, or at least, it sort of looks like it does, and he holds a hand towards you. “Get over here.”

You step forward to take his hand, and he tugs you onto him, shifting his weight so the line of his body is pressed against yours. Since he’s already gotten you off, and you had a few moments apart while walking upstairs, you’ve both calmed down a little, and the kisses he gives you are lazy, exploratory.

Outside, all the light has nearly left the sky. A cool breeze filters through his open windows, the sheer curtains billowing out. When you shiver, Joel pulls you closer, one broad, warm palm raking up your arm, brushing over pebbled skin.

Joel makes love to you slowly, languidly, hovering over you. This isn’t new, it’s how he always seems to like it. Before, it had never been your favorite. You used to think it meant there was a lack of enthusiasm, but you must have been with the wrong people. With Joel, it just makes sense. You’re still able to taste the desperation dripping off of him when you trace your tongue along his collarbone, and can feel how badly he wants you in the unhurried drag of his fingertips. The way he touches you, so confident, but also so tenderly, makes you feel insane. All you want to do is take and take. And he’s so eager to give it to you.

When you wake the next morning, your cheek is resting on his sternum, and his palm in the dip of your spine. Window still open from the night before, you can hear the morning doves calling – probably what woke you to begin with. Something you’ve learned is that when given the chance, Joel loves to sleep. You do too, obviously, but it doesn’t seem to come as easily. So when you tilt your head back to look up at him, you’re surprised to find him already awake. Sunlight glitters off the amber in his eyes, and there’s such a warmth to his gaze that your first instinct is to turn away.

But you don’t. You let him kiss you, let his beard tickle your neck.

“I love waking up next to you,” Joel whispers.

Even though you’re too afraid to say anything in return, he doesn’t hold it against you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-July 5, 2003-

Sarah answers the door to her house before your knuckles can even make contact with the wood. She all-but pounces on you as you step over the threshold, wrapping you in a hug that’s so tight you barely can breath, and pulling back before you can return it. “How are you? Where have you been?”

“I’m good, just busy,” She’s been back for a week and you still haven't had a chance to see her. Work has been hectic, and you’d even had to work during the holiday yesterday to meet a deadline for a new client. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she gives you another quick hug.

You wait for her to pull back before she speaks again. “How was camp?”

“So much fun,” she nods. “But I got eaten alive by mosquitos so I’m kind of happy to be home.”

“Yeah,” you say. “I don’t know how well I’d do out in the wilderness for so long.”

“Oh yeah,” Sarah raises her eyebrows. “The New Yawk-er,” she says with an unconvincing accent, but grimaces. “Sorry, that was bad.”

“We’ll work on it,” you pat her shoulder.

There’s a fresh smattering of freckles across her nose from the days she’s spent outside under the Texan sun, which is unrelenting this time of year. It also seems she’s grown another inch since the last time you’d seen her, but you can’t be certain. “My dad is upstairs. Running late as usual,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You can come in. I have so much to tell you.”

You act tentative, because as far as she knows, this is your first time in her home. When you sit on the couch, she plops next to you, leaning against the cushions. “What’s this?” you reach for one of the many photos strewn out across the coffee table.

“Oh, that’s my dad and his brother when they were kids.” The photo is of the two young boys seated in a red wagon. Tommy’s got a half-eaten strawberry in his hand, his lips and cheeks stained red. And he’s leaning back against Joel, who's wearing a cowboy hat that’s far too big for him, his plump cheek resting on the top of his brother’s dark curls. You are ashamed by the twinge of bitter longing that twists in your gut when you see their carefree smiles, despite it being one of the sweetest one of the sweetest things you’ve ever seen. But you’re even more ashamed that for one quick second, you wonder what Joel would look like with a son that age. Would he be just as adorable? “My dad was going through a bunch of old family photos the other day,” Sarah says.

“Cute,” you observe.

But Sarah doesn’t seem as interested in them as you do, so to avoid any suspicion, you put the photo down. You let her recount her trip, starting with day one, and moving on. Sarah explains what it was like to live in a cabin for a week, to sleep for a night under the stars. She learned archery, and swam, and rode horses, and hiked, and wove friendship bracelets with the other girls there. She shows you one of the multicolored woven bracelets on her wrist, and pulls an identical one out of her pocket to fasten around your own. It’s so thoughtful you aren’t quite sure how to thank her, and you’re hit with a fresh wave of guilt over the secret you’ve been keeping. It had been easier to ignore when she wasn’t around.

You hear Joel shuffling down the stairs before he comes into view. “You ready, babygirl?”

“Yeah,” Sarah answers. “We’re waiting.”

“Hey,” Joel says when he reaches the landing. He pauses, looks between you and Sarah, huddled on the couch together, and then nods at you once. “Nice to see you.”

“You too,” you say, rather rigidly. “Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Of course,” he says over his shoulder as he heads into the kitchen. He’s trying so hard to be nonchalant, you almost buy it. Almost.

The county fair only lasts a week, and tonight is the last night you’re able to go. Sarah had called you at work a few days earlier to invite you. She seemed adamant that although it was a yearly tradition to go with Joel, she wanted you there. I asked my dad already and he said it was fine. It had been awhile since you’d gone to a carnival, and you weren’t one to turn down the opportunity to eat a funnel cake and drink some fresh-squeezed lemonade.

“Alright,” Joel returns from the kitchen with his car keys, all business. “Let’s head out.”

He holds the door open as Sarah filters outside, followed by you. But you stop yourself in the threshold, turning to Joel. “Did you remember your wallet?” You ask him out of habit, because historically speaking, he’s always leaving it behind.

Joel pats his pockets, groans, throwing his head back. “Shit.” and then disappears back inside. Briefly, you worry that Sarah might have picked up on the implications of the question – maybe you know him a little too well – but she doesn’t even seem to be paying attention, and you scold yourself for being so paranoid.

“Good catch,” Joel says as he exits the house, stuffing his wallet into his back pocket. He grins at you and Sarah.

You bite back a teasing remark. Are you sure you’re the oldest child in your family? Sometimes he seems just a tad too frazzled, forgetful. That might’ve drawn a laugh from him, or a pointed ‘Shut Up’. But you’ve got to keep that sort of thing to yourself, if you can.

You pile into the car, Sarah in the back and you on the passengers side, but it doesn’t stop her from leaning forward to stay in the conversation while Joel puts his elbow over the bench seat and looks over his shoulder to back out of the driveway. It’s a hot night, so he’s only got on a fitted t-shirt that’s a tad too tight through his chest and upper body. You do everything in your power not to let your gaze linger on him. It’s hard to believe someone could make putting a car in reverse sexy, but if anyone could do it, it’s Joel.

“Do you like The Chicks?” Sarah asks from behind you, once you’re on the road.

“I don’t listen to much country music,” you’re honest.

“You live in Texas,” Joel interjects.

“Yeah, you live in Texas,” Sarah echoes. “I think you’ll like them. Dad, will you play my favorite song?” She nudges you to get your attention. “He finally fixed his radio.”

“Is your seatbelt on?” Joel does a double-take when he notices how far up she’s sitting.

“Yes, I actually can get a pretty good range of motion with this thing.”

“Well it needs to go across your shoulders,” Joel adjusts his rearview mirror so he can see Sarah better.

“It is, Dad,” she chastises. “Can you please play the song?”

You smirk. Joel puts one of the discs sitting in his center console into the CD player, and then skips forward two tracks.

“Turn it up,” Sarah says immediately as the first few bars of quiet guitar kick in.

“I should’ve never bought you this album,” Joel grumbles, but reaches out and obeys.

I said I wanna touch the earth, I wanna break it in my hands, I wanna grow something wild and unruly….

“Are you going to learn to play this on guitar like I asked?” she questions Joel, who is focused on the road.

“No,” he deadpans.

Oh, you play guitar? You’re tempted to ask, like he doesn’t put on a show for you every time you decide to get stoned on your back porch – which has been often, lately. But it seems a little too risky, so you keep your mouth shut. It’s better right now to be an observer.

“Why not?” Sarah asks.

“Not my style.”

“It might be good to expand your catalog outside of Hank Williams and Johnny Cash,” Sarah encourages.

“I play more than just them,” Joel defends himself.

“Whatever you say,” Sarah says, but looks over at you as though she’s skeptical. You grin and roll down your window.

I said, cowboy take me away, fly this girl as high as you can into the wild blue…

“Turn it up,” Sarah prompts again.

Joel pretends like he doesn’t hear her, so when she requests again, you reach out to do it. Instantly, you’re met with a firm, smack on the back of your hand. “It’s loud enough,” he says.

“Dad!” Sarah exclaims, and seems almost shocked that he would do such a thing, offended on your behalf.

Joel doesn’t turn from the road. “She’s fine.”

“Ouch,” you dramatize, shaking out your hand, egged on by Sarah.

“Oh, come on, I barely touched you,” Joel reaches out, squeezing your hand gently in response. A force of habit. For a second, you’ve both forgotten where you are, who you are with. Joel pulls away, clears his throat and looks back at the road. “You’re fine.”

You know if you look for Sarah’s reaction, you’ll give yourself away. So instead you continue to antagonize. “What if I was turning it up for myself?”

“Yeah, dad. It’s a really good song.”

“It is,” you nod. “I’m enjoying it.”

“Stop that. Don’t encourage her,” Joel warns you.

You reach back out to turn up the radio.

“Oh, come on,” Joel rolls his eyes, realizing he’s outnumbered, but he sort of laughs as he does it, running his hand through his hair.

I wanna be the only one for miles and miles, except for maybe you and your simple smile…

You look over your shoulder to wink at Sarah, who is beaming. Satisfied now that the music is blaring from the truck’s speakers, she settles back against her seat and looks out the window, the wind tousling her hair, her sweet voice singing along faintly to the rest of the song. Joel gives you a sidelong glance when she’s not looking, the same unidentifiable warmth in his eyes that you had seen last weekend, and you let your eyes remain on him for another moment, before forcing yourself to turn away.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sun is down, and the lights of the carnival glitter and twinkle as you weave through the crowd. Sarah’s arm linked through your own, the other around a giant stuffed teddy bear you’d somehow managed to win at the shooting gallery booth. All those summers of your brother forcing you to play ‘target practice’ with his BB gun when you were supposed to be honing your serve finally paid off. There’s a band playing swing music somewhere, but there are so many people around, and you’ve sort of lost your spatial awareness. Joel and Sarah both seem to know where they are going, so you stick with them.

Every now and then, in the fleeting moments when Sarah runs up ahead of you, or turns her back to look at something, Joel will take her place. You had been a little worried that your teasing in the car may have gone too far, but he doesn’t seem upset. It’s quite the opposite, really. He’ll wind an arm around your waist, put his lips to your temple, squeeze your hand. He seems completely at ease despite the relative chaos around you, and always manages to pull himself away just in time.

“Should we go into the funhouse?” Sarah asks, after your little group has pulled off to the side.

“Eh,” you wrinkle your nose. “I’ll pass.”

“What?” she’s incredulous. “No! You have to, come on.”

“I don’t really want to,” you shake your head.

“Why not?”

“Sarah,” Joel interjects. “She said no.”

“They make me claustrophobic,” you say, tone much softer than her father’s. You were pretty sure you’d be fine, but it seems dumb to traumatize yourself doing something that’s quite literally supposed to be fun.

Surprisingly, Sarah doesn’t continue to press, and instead turns to her father. “I think I’ll stay back,” Joel says. “But you go ahead. We’ll wait.”

“Ugh, lame,” Sarah rolls her eyes, but doesn’t protest, pushing the giant stuffed teddy bear towards it. Joel tucks it under his arm – he’s already holding a bag of popcorn, and she bounds off.

“I didn’t know you were claustrophobic,” Joel says, his eyes locked on Sarah until he sees her disappear into the attraction. Then he turns to you.

“Only in specific situations,” you explain. “Plus, did you know that funhouses were originally invented to give people panic attacks?”

“What? Really?”

“No,” you say. “I just made that up.”

Joel shakes his head. “I guess if I’m thinking about movies I’ve seen, nothing good ever comes from a funhouse.”

“Yeah,” you say. “Carnivals in general don’t usually great media representation.”

“Well, I hope you’re having fun at this one.”

“I am,” you smile at Joel. The crowd is just tipsy enough to be pleasant, and it’s not late enough in the evening for any children to be having the tired-hungry-overstimulated meltdown yet. Plus, you’re in good company. “Are you?”

“I would be havin’ more fun if I didn’t have to watch you walk in front of me in that little dress all night.”

You look down at the floral sundress you’re wearing. It’s very flattering and feminine, and felt right for the hot summer evening. “You don’t like it?”

“No,” Joel says. “I like it a little too much.”

“Oh,” you nod. “I mean….I did sort of wear it because I figured you would.”

“Darlin’,” Joel puts his head back and groans dramatically. “Please don’t tell me that.”

“What’s the issue?”

“Because I can’t touch you. I could now, but instead I’ve gotta carry all her shit.”

You snort, amused, crossing your arms. “You’re in the trenches, huh?”

“Exactly. At least you understand,” Joel smirks. You’re unable to resist the urge to lean close enough to wrap your arms around his torso and kiss him, despite being rather out in the open. Joel lets out a noise that sounds like relief, hand on your waist, keeping you from pulling back.

“How long do you think she’ll be gone?” His eyes flick behind you towards the funhouse. “Think we could sneak off, pay off a carnie to keep watch so we could- what’s that face?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head. “You’ve clearly thought this through…”

“Well, I’ve been third wheeling all night so I had time to get creative,” Joel drops his hand from you and turns you both around so you can see in between two booth games. “You see over there, between those two tents…there’s a dumpster-”

“Sounds hot…”

“Right?”

“...And also kind of like the beginning of an episode of Law & Order.”

Joel loses it, and you steal a bite of popcorn from the bag in his hand to hide how satisfied you are at making him laugh so hard. You nudge him in the ribs with your elbow when his hand goes to cover his eyes.

“What’s so funny?”

The smile doesn’t leave your face as quickly as Joel’s does when you both pivot to find Sarah standing behind you. “Hey babygirl,” he offers a weak grin. “That was quick.”

“Yeah,” she says, smiling. “There wasn’t a line.”

You try not to act suspicious, but you’re wondering how much she heard. Apparently, not enough to be skeptical, because she continues on. “And you’re right,” she looks at you. “It wasn’t very fun.”

“Yeah,” you nod, reaching to take some more popcorn out of the bag in Joel’s hand, hoping it just seems like a nonchalant, platonic thing. “They’re kind of a lot right?”

She nods, shrugs, and then reaches for the popcorn herself. You might be in the clear, and make a pointed effort to keep more distance between you and Joel for the rest of the night.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Do you think we should stop for another snack?” Sarah asks, like you haven’t already eaten your weight in junk this evening. But you’ve arrived at a little picnic area surrounded by food trucks and vendors. “Maybe we can sit down for a little.”

“That sounds nice,” Joel says. “Why don’t you two get in line, I’m gonna run to put this in the car.” He lifts the prize you’d given to Sarah up with a grimace. Somehow, he ended up carrying the plush bear all night.

“Is it too heavy for you?” Sarah teases. Joel doesn’t even answer, just rolls his eyes and turns around.

“I’ll be back,” he calls over his shoulder.

Sarah’s giggles subside and Joel disappears into the crowd.

“Where do you wanna go?” you ask her, putting your hands on your hips and taking in the area. At this point in the night, many people attending appear to be fairly plastered. At this point in the evening, most of the families with younger children have cleared out, and it’s well past dinner time, so there aren’t a ton of people hanging in the area. “I probably owe you dinner. And your dad a beer, since he’s paid for everything.”

“He’d like that,” Sarah says. “I’m glad you two are friends.”

“Oh?” you glance over at her. “Yeah, me too.” Sarah just stares at you, doesn’t say anything. “You have a nice family. You, your dad, your Uncle Tommy…”

Sarah just keeps studying you.

“What?”

Her eyes narrow, just a touch. You recall what Joel had told you about her picking up your mannerisms, but you never realized how horrible it was to be on the other side. Still, it was you, who had taught her this, so you do your best to appear confused. What do you want from me? It works, and she smiles, shakes her head, then looks at the ground. “Nothin’,” when she looks back up, there’s something melancholy about her expression, and she kicks the toe of her Converse into the gravel. “Can we get a funnel cake?”

“Lead the way.”

As you follow her to the food truck, her petite form gets jostled by some of the patrons waiting in line near a drink stand. You have to squeeze through them to get by. There’s a picnic table near the walkway where a bunch of men sit – hunched over, listening to a man on the end of the bench tell a very animated story. Several empty draft cups and beer bottles are stacked or lined up on their table, and the sickeningly sweet smell of the tipped cigarillos they’re smoking makes your nostrils burn.

Just as Sarah’s about to pass them, the man talking stretches his arms wide, and the hand that just so happens to be clutching a solo cup filled to the brim reaches out directly into Sarah’s path.

It’s too late. She collides with his arm, and the beer is knocked from his hand, landing on the picnic table and spraying everyone in the vicinity with liquid and sticky foam.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Sarah says, putting her hand over her mouth, genuinely apologetic.

And that’s where it should’ve ended.

“What the fuck?” the man, who looks to be about your age, maybe a little older, gives her a once over.

You reach Sarah. “Are you alright?” you ask, stepping between her and the man, turning her away from his nasty glare. Before she can answer, he speaks up again.

“You better learn to watch where you’re fucking going, girl!”

Sarah’s jaw drops, even though she’s staring at the gravel. You turn to face the man. “Hey,” you keep your voice light. “Calm down, dude, it was an accident.”

“Oh, it was an accident?” The man looks down at his shirt, soaked through, then back up at you, his hand landing on the table. “Seems like a pretty big fuckin’ accident.”

“She said sorry,” you shrug. And if you really want to get down to brass tacks, asshole, it was totally your fault, you think, but you keep your cool.

The man drags himself to his feet. Your head tilts back to look at him, notice how he hulks over you, and you ignore the feeling of your heart rate picking up. But you stand your ground, pushing Sarah backwards without looking, hoping to put some space between her and what is becoming an increasingly ridiculous situation. Who the fuck picks a fight with a middle school girl?

“Are you at least gonna pay for another round?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you pretend to reach for your purse, even though you have no intention of giving him any money. Prick. You can’t help yourself. “You’re at a county fair in Texas, what do you want, like, two dollars?”

The man flicks the plastic tip of his cigar onto the ground. For a brief moment, your eyes float towards the men at the table behind him. Some of them are watching, seemingly amused, while others stare at the table. Like they know they should be doing something about this, but they aren’t. They won’t. Typical.

The truth is, you’re scared. You’ve been here before. Helpless, praying that some adult would intervene - and being let down every time. Surely, someone had to know. Surely, someone could’ve helped you. In the end, you had to do what you were doing now. Look out for yourself.

“Shut the fuck up, you fuckin’ cunt.” He says it like it’s supposed to end the conversation. But being a woman who's been on her own most of her adult life, and regularly seen as a threat to men’s fragile egos, you give him zero points for creativity.

Your fatal flaw is your mouth. It can get you into trouble, it can get you out of trouble, but one thing is certain; when you’re angry, you always have shit to say.

“Is that all you got?” you ask.

Any bit of bravery that remains vanishes entirely when the man’s hand rises. You take a step backward but know it’s too late, flinching in anticipation. Sarah, who's huddled behind you, clings to your waist, and you nearly topple over her but luckily, you don’t lose your footing.

The impact never comes.

Well, not for you, at least.

Joel has materialized, seemingly out of nowhere, and his hands are fisted in the collar of the man’s shirt. He’s yelling something unintelligible, and it doesn’t really register because you are too focused on the fact that he looks like a wild fucking animal – teeth bared into a nasty snarl, his voice gravelly. Your Joel, the sweet and gentle man who you’ve come to care so much about looks positively feral.

Of course, it’s only then that the other men at the table decide to intervene. It takes three of them to pull Joel off before he can do any significant damage, and they all scatter, heading out in the opposite direction.

You can’t move. It could’ve been worse, you think. There wasn’t even a punch thrown. But it caught enough attention from the crowd that you can hear people murmuring amongst themselves now, like they deserved to have an opinion as bystanders.

Sarah releases her grip from you as Joel makes his way back towards you both, looking shockingly calm after what you’d just seen him do. His daughter tucks herself against his chest, he murmurs something into her hair. You’re still frozen in place, but you manage to turn your head away from the scene, sniff, and straighten up.

“Hey, are you okay?” Joel’s voice is in your ear, his hand is on your shoulder, his face coming into view. For one split second, you’re struck by the impulse to pitch forward, to bury your face into his chest and allow yourself to be comforted. That’s until you see Sarah under his opposite arm and you remember where you are. You’re not a child.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Like he doesn’t believe you. You nod, step away enough that his hand drops off of you, and you cross your arms. “I saw what he-”

“I’m fine,” you put every bit of venom that you can into your voice without letting it crack, and you see the change in his face. Whiplash. Oops. That’s too far in the opposite direction. “Really, I’m good,” you say, much more gently this time. Then you force a smile, before realizing that even if you are okay, it’s not really appropriate to smile in this type of situation so you abandon that strategy.

Breathe. Reset.

Reaching out, you squeeze Sarah’s arm. Her eyes are red-rimmed, her cheeks wet, but she doesn’t appear to be crying anymore. “Are you alright?” you ask her.

Sarah nods, relaxing slightly. “Thanks for sticking up for me.”

“Of course,” you answer, and now that you’ve shoved every emotion that came bubbling up back to their rightful place, you’re able to offer: “Guess I’m not too great at deescalating.”

“Well, he wasn’t very nice.”

“He was a fucking asshole,” Joel rubs her back, but doesn’t release her. It’s only then you can see he’s still on high alert. “But I think that’s our cue to get out of here.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Keeping control of your emotions, as you have gotten older, does not work as well as it used to. And this…event….feels like you’ve gone to pull a loose thread off a sweater, only to realize it was the one that held the whole damned thing together. You don’t realize until it’s too late, and the next thing you know, you’re on the floor of your closet, scraps of fabric all over the floor, and no idea what to do with them. Oh, and it’s cold outside, so now you have nothing to wear.

In the car on the way home. Sarah and Joel chat a bit. They go over everything that happened in detail, starting with the spilled beer. You don’t speak. You can feel your heartbeat thrumming in your body, your jaw clenched so tightly it’s begun to ache. It’s hard to tell if you want to scream or cry – maybe both, but as the whole situation solidifies itself in your memory, you’re starting to feel like it might be more of the latter. And you just want to get home, so when it happens, you can be alone.

It’s not great to know that you have fucked up the whole vibe. Unfortunately, you cannot give anything else right now. Joel keeps looking over at you, and you imagine he thinks you’re acting pretty pathetic.

Joel pulls into his driveway, puts the car in park, and you can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. Until he speaks up.

“Sarah, can you give us a minute?” he asks, and you hear his car keys jingle. Elbow on the window frame, fist pressed against your nose, you stare at the dashboard. “I’ll be inside in a little bit.”

“Yeah…” Sarah answers, though she sounds timid. There’s the click of a seatbelt, and she slides out of the car on your side. As she passes your open window, she pats your shoulder gently, and you nod. You watch her walk up the path to her front door and ignore the feeling of Joel’s eyes on you.

He says your name, and you give in, turn to look at him, just for a second. “Thank you for looking out for her,” So earnestly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there earlier.”

“Yeah, well….it wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t yours, either.”

“Yeah.”

The front door slams closed. Sarah’s inside, and Joel reaches out, moves a bit closer to you. He lays his hand on the side of your face, guiding you to look at him. You can’t meet his eyes, or he might see right through you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Has something like that-?”

You know what he’s getting at. You don’t need to hear the rest of the question. “No.”

"Please," Joel takes a deep breath, dropping his eyes. “You can tell me the truth.”

You hate that he knows you’re not. And you hate yourself for hurting him, for being so cruel and dismissive when he’s only trying to help. But what is going to happen if he knows you? If he really knows who you are? “Joel,” you shake your head. “I can’t get into it.”

“Okay,” he says, nods.

“But….” you raise your hand, let it clasp around his wrist, over his watch. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Why don’t you come inside for a little, huh?” He asks. “Watch a movie with Sarah and I?”

“I don’t know, I-” You’re not sure how much longer you can keep the tears to yourself. You’d been planning on letting them out the second you walk inside, and bottling them up for more time sounds excruciating. So what are your valid excuses? “She might figure out that-”

Joel shakes his head. “I don’t care about that right now.”

“It’s late.” You say, as if you’re actually going to sleep tonight.

“You just spent the whole night with us. What’s another hour or two?”

Those were your two best shots. Joel finally asks. He’s pleading with you, you can see in his face. This is for him. It’s not even about you. Well, it is. But it’s sincere. He’s not just pitying you. “Alright.”

Sarah seems just as relieved to see you walk through the front door as Joel had been when you agreed. She sits between you on the couch while you watch some shitty action movie Joel picked out, and falls asleep curled up against his side. Once her measured breathing fills the room, Joel reaches over to clasp your hand, thumb rubbing over the back of your palm, and he doesn’t let go.

Your plans to end the night crying yourself to sleep are long forgotten by the time you get home.

-----

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a-roguish-gambit · 4 months

Text

Oh goddddd. Something I reblogged earlier today has given me the best/worst x men brainrot

X-Men maid cafe.

It starts out simple enough with a need for money to help cover maintenance costs at the school. Shit gets blown up/destroyed all the time there. Tis expensive AF.

The queer community is the most mutant friendly out there and many of the X-Men are some flavor of not straight so Charles puts it up to Scott and the others to come up with a way to do a 50/50 split donation drive of sorts in combination with the local LGBT rights org for the school and the org at a local pride festival.

People are brainstorming shit and aren't coming up with anything and then morph jokes "lol what if we did that shit they do in all the super power school animes where they have a maid cafe"

The girls all roll their eyes. Most of the guys look unamused. Jean Grey telepathically flicks a paperclip at them. Then Gambit speaks up, suddenly very enthusiastic about the idea and tries to encourage the others to do the idea.

Storm immediately shuts him down. Jean grey tries to challenge him "sure we can do that...except in the spirit of pride it should be a drag cafe. Women as butlers, men as maids" hoping it would scare him off.

Gambit just looks more enthused. "PERFECT! GAMBIT LOVES DAT IDEA!"

The room is silent. Storm, jean, and rogue share surprised looks before shrugging their shoulders and voting yes. Kurt, Bobby, and morph are up for it too. With majority vote they go through with it.

Gambit and jean fight over the menu. Gambit wanting a full restaurant style menu going and Jean furiously reminding him that this is only going to be up for like a week and none of his choices are cafe food.

They some how manage to get Logan into the outfit and he looks like an angry cat some child played dress up with.

Jubilee working the kitchen and sending the items out with the gayest most sparkling presentation.

Bobby was declared the milkshake king by a group of LGBT gen Zers.

They have donation jars marked with each server's name labeled "tell us which server is your favorite" Hank and Kurt are tied for first place.

Hank is so confused people keep telling him he's amazing and wonderful and keeping asking him for hugs even if they are not attracted to him at all.

Local poetry lesbians have adopted him as their group guy friend.

Kurt: "vy do že keep calling me 'twink'? Pretty sure it's a compliment but I vish I knew vat it meant."

The bi community stanning rogue and gambit. The same group of 10 or so bi peeps coming in and stuffing their jars with ones.

They ended up coming up with x men themed treats. There's cupcakes with little red candy sunglasses on them for cyclops, and a midnight blue flan style pudding with strawberries for nightcrawler. And of course Remy beignet.

Charles is oblivious to this until they open up shop. Goes in to check out how stuff is going, sees just students in non X-Men costumes and just....processes for a few minutes before saying "good work. Have fun" and wheeling himself out the door.

Idk this is probably dumb but I love it ok let them do stupid stuff

#x men #x men comics #charles xavier #gambit #rogue #beast #wolverine #morph #jean grey #cyclops #nightcrawler #iceman #sweet-tea #mod talks

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drdemonprince · 5 months

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Any chance you'd expand on the hank hill trans guy post? (Sorry, best indicator I could come up with.) The concept interests me as I decidedly know my maleness, yet don't feel impeded by for the most part, any male gendered norms/boxes. I am fairly masculine, though I rarely use those kinds terms to describe myself. I have found I often do stray outside of what society pushed for me when I transitioned, yet I again do not feel it has taken from my right to maleness whatsoever. I am just me, who happens to be male. I have had friends try and suggest I am NB adjacent but I do not feel this way whatsoever. I feel more people are outliers to gender expectation than we care to admit and it's disappointing the way cis-people deny that. Hope this wasn't too long winded, I value your writing and perspective, and wanted to hear more of your thoughts on this.

Yeah, well so many things all get conflated by gender labels, and it's all so personal, you know? Masculinity does not have to mean maleness, and a person's gender identity might be a reflection of some innate quality they experience themselves as having, or a general summary of their tendencies, or their desired presentation, or their sense of affinity with other people, or an interpersonal tool, or something they just go along with because it was given to them by society, or any other number of things.

I think my recent substack piece on detransition goes into this pretty well, and I have an upcoming piece of what @pastimperfection calls "bilateral dysphoria" that comes out next week that delves into it too.

I think I mostly saw taking on a male identity as a means to an end more than any kind of innate reflection of who I was, though I did feel an affinity with effeminate men for a lot of reasons. I think I also discounted how much I have in common with my fellow nonbinary people of all stripes, because that identity became so strongly associated with being an annoying type of queer person that everybody else just wrote off as ultimately being their assigned gender at birth anyway no matter how much they protested. it doesn't help that 'nonbinary' is a catchall term for literally thousands if not millions of very distinct experiences and desires.

transitioning gave me control over how i was perceived, finally, but hormones are a throttle that only go in one very specific direction, and you don't really have all that much control over which changes kick in at which times and what people will make of you once you do start registering to them as some identity other than what you were first saddled with. it's an incredible gift to be able to toggle that throttle. but it's limited, not because medical transition isn't incredible and needed for so many, but because there is no escaping the goddamned binary cissexist logic that influences everything about how people treat you, how you navigate institutions, who finds you desirable and what they want out of you, and so much else.

if you're able to cast a lot of the external societal bullshit aside and feel strong in your maleness, maybe you're stronger than me or maybe our orientation to these things is just different, i don't know. i was never all that sensitive to feedback that i was doing the whole being-a-woman-thing all that wrong. i reveled in violating those rules to an extent. succeeding at being a woman despite my best attempts was what felt super dysphoric. and now i guess im succeeding at being a man, insofar as im always read as one, and it feels just as uncomfortable and objectifying and false. i thought that with manhood i could probably just grit my teeth and deal with it, but i'm finding that i can't.

ive always been very open that for me, gender is a thing I Do, and i guess to those who know me well it wouldnt be surprising to hear that i have gotten tired of Doing Being a Man and dont feel like playing that particular gendered game anymore. I tend to get bored of things! and find the flaws in things. and find my comfort in being fault-finding and contrarian and not being a joiner. and thats okay. i learned a lot along the way. not having to try any more is a huge relief. i can just do whatever. and know actively that people will more often than not be wrong in what they make of me.

maybe it was natural feeling for you to decidely 'know' your maleness without a care for masculine standards because that is the right identity for you! and maybe i only feel secure in the "not knowing" realm and in letting go of what people think of me or finding any kind of tidy categorization for it because that's the right spot for me. for now. until i find a new interesting way to be unhappy and striving for more and different again. :) that's just part of being alive, for me.

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battry-acid · 5 days

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Hey dude I totally don’t know at all you should totally write a manifesto on trans/intersex wolverine ooooo you wanna write it so bad ooooooo

you tease me, tumblr user that i am definitely not friends with. we both know this is bait i simply cannot help but bite. << if you read this till the end you get a surprise :) >>

i could go on a big long rant and list every single instance in which logan defies gender norms in the comics, but i'm gonna try to be brief this time. my headcanon that logan is trans/intersex is so personal and deeply rooted in my mind that discussing it kinda feels like sharing the secrets of a close friend if that makes sense. like, it's his business, it ain't my right to share that information.

i know there are trans logan truthers out there. i have seen them in the wild. i know there are people who would agree with this headcanon, and i'm sure i'm not the only one who takes trans headcanons super personally as a trans person, projecting your experiences and feelings onto a character you really like. it's the same thing with ol' logan (and kurt is not spared of this treatment either).

with the intersex headcanon, i don't often see those enough (for any character, in any fandom, honestly) especially considering intersex people make up, like, 2% of the entire world population. i know of several canon intersex characters in media, but not headcanons.

the biggest reason many people have the trans logan headcanon is because of his clone x-23/laura having XX chromosomes due to the sample used by dr. kinney having a damaged Y, making her 'female'. this is going off of a ciscentric intersex-exclusionary idea of what biological sex is, though.

i'm still totally down for the base concept of 'laura and logan having different gender identities means that at least one of them is trans since they have basically the same DNA' though, but i think both logan and laura are intersex. i think part of the reason it was so hard to clone wolverine is because of his unique DNA. it isn't contradictory for them to have different gender identities or different biology. i think we should stop looking for a reason to label laura Girl and logan Boy and just accept that they can be neither, both, in and out of the between, anything, it just requires so much less hassle. why is their biology so important anyway? that doesn't change their characters.

there's also just...general biological fuckery happening in the weapon x program as pointed out by 1random-starfish because this is superhero comics we're talking about where they're trying to explain how characters get superpowers. this shit doesn't make biological sense and that's okay. it doesn't need to make sense. transphobes and interphobes are constantly saying that our existences "don't make sense" and why should we ever even slightly cater to their beliefs? we make sense to ourselves and that's all that matters. trans and intersex logan makes sense to me.

another argument brought up in defence of trans logan is the fact that he's a short king. as a short king, i approve of this. but there's little emphasis on the fact that he is naturally extremely hairy, both him and sabretooth are super hairy, like way more so than most other characters (besides the ones that are covered in fur like kurt and hank) and that's pretty significant to me. i'm also hairy as fuck. almost all of my intersex friends are hairy too. obviously how much hair a trans and/or intersex person has will vary, but like i said, this trans/intersex logan headcanon is super personal, so i'm projecting personal attributes onto him, damn it.

as i said in a previous post, though i don't feel it's incredibly important to disclose, logan likely has POTS or CAH or something similar to those conditions. i don't think medicine can or should define what logan is. but just to give a reference for how i interpret his appearance, some of those attributes are similar to the ones logan has in my brain. fat, hairy, short, often experiencing fatigue/vertigo/disturbed sleep/etc (worsened by him having PTSD), adrenal issues (paired with PTSD), breast tissue, facial hair, decreased bone density (which was strengthened by his skeleton being bonded with adamantium), etc. he was also allegedly a very sickly child.

onto how i portray logan in my art. some artists prefer to give him top surgery, not just for the "who cares it's a headcanon i do what i want" reasoning but also because there's evidence that logan could experience a permanent surgery like that if enough effort was put in. i, however, am one of the no-op logan truthers. not only do not all transmasc people get top surgery but it doesn't always feel required due to diversity of body types. it's why there's so many different kinds of top surgery, there's so many different ways a chest can look. i don't always draw logan's chest the same way consistently, and like, who cares. the only reason i bring this up is because i personally will never draw logan with any kind of scars, top surgery or otherwise, because of my understanding of how his healing factor works.

regardless of any reasoning i may have for these headcanons, it's just what i feel is right. i draw stuff how i want to. i think about these characters how i want to. the little version of logan that lives in my brain told me he is trans and intersex so that's how i'm gonna portray him. anyway,

#thank you for reading my x-men essay. x-say? sure #ask answered #feel free to ask me more stuff!!!#wolverine #wolverine fanart #logan howlett #x men #x men comics #uncanny x men #uxm #x men fanart #trans pride #trans artist #trans headcanon #intersex headcanon #my headcanons #my art

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sharpth1ng · 5 months

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I need to blow up Mr. Hank Loomis so bad. I'm ripping him to shreds with my mind. I don't like when people say Maureen is the reason Scream happened because it's HANK'S fault. fuck that guy

Yeah honestly the Maureen blaming feels like some unexamined misogyny. They were both cheating. Maureen is the only one that dies because of it.

Also like. Neither Maureen nor Hank is the reason scream happened. It’s either Billy and Stu or Roman depending on how you see it. No one forced them to do that. They chose to react to Hank and Maureen’s infidelity with murder. “My girlfriends mommy is a homewrecker” is not a defence that’s going to hold up in court.

Beyond that Maureen’s only crime is cheating, and in both fanon and canon Billy is also guilty of that (it’s either Stu or Christina). Like if you’re going to hate Maureen for cheating then it feels a bit hypocritical not to hate Billy for the same.

Idk from what we know I think I would have liked Maureen more than Hank as well. Sid seems to have had a positive relationship with her but Billy seems to want nothing to do with Hank.

Maureen was also a scream queen when she was younger like, that’s rad? The titles we get for the movies she was in make them sound like some pretty wild B-movies: Amazombies, Space Psychos and Creatures from the San Andreas Fall. These sound like movies Stu would LOVE.

I also just have some sympathy for Maureen with her past, so much of her backstory is defined by brutal sexual coercion and assault from the time she was 18. Cheating is obviously not good, but also like, she got together with Neil at the age of 21. Prior to that it seems like her experiences were mostly not consensual.

It was the early 70s, I can’t imagine that she felt like she had a lot of choices. The idea that she would have consensual affairs later in life is unfortunate but also not surprising. I think a lot of people who get married young can end up having this realization later in life that they want to experience things they haven’t, and those are the kinds of things you can regret on your deathbed.

As far as we know she’s a stay at home mom, she has no ability to support herself without Neil. From her perspective the options were probably: get a divorce, split up her family, make herself financially destitute, and have a chance to experience the things that were robbed from her when she was younger, OR stay with Neil and die eventually wondering what she missed out on, OR have an affair and hopefully keep her family together.

So yeah. Cheating? Not good, not excusable. But also relatively understandable in my opinion.

And yeah in terms of Hank we don’t know the most about him from canon, but we know how Billy reacts to him, and we know how Billy and Nancy both are: they’re sexist slut-shamers. Like, Nancy blaming Sid for what Billy did? You can hate Sidney but come on, you can’t argue that his actions were actually justified. All of this tells me that Hank’s views are probably in line with Nancy and Billy’s. Billy had to learn it somewhere right? Misogyny isn’t genetic.

So yeah that’s my monologue. Tldr: hate Maureen if you want, that’s fine, but blaming the Scream murders on her doesn’t make much sense. If you need a villain Hank is right there, and either way the real villains are Billy and Stu.

You can still like them even if they suck, I promise, they’re fictional characters. You don’t need to shift the blame for their actions onto other characters to justify liking them.

#maureen prescott #hank loomis #billy and stu #scream movies #tw sa mention #tw sa #ask

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fortheloveofwonderland · 11 months

Text

Darkness Declares Glory | Chapter 17 | SR

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Chapter Summary - Spencer receives a surprise visitor right when he needs it’s the most. The two of you grow closer and Spencer starts to feel something akin to normal.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | eventual happy ending.

Warnings - talk of weight gain, talk of drug addiction, Spencer starts to piece his memories together, swearing, public sex?, fingering, oral (fem and male receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex.

WC - 5.5k

Chapter 17 - Thnks Fr Th Mmrs

When Spencer got back to his room after his call with Cat, he wasn’t in the least bit surprised to find you gone. He wrote in his journal for a while, unable to stop himself recounting in graphic detail his evening spent with you.

He was sure it wasn’t all in his head. It couldn’t have been in his head, surely? But sadly Spencer didn’t trust his own brain anymore.

He had a dreamless sleep that night and felt somewhat invigorated the next morning, ready to throw himself head first into his recovery and put all thoughts of Cat Adam’s behind him once and for all.

He carried his chip in his pocket everywhere he went and when he was struggling he would hold it in his palm and squeeze as a reminder of his sobriety.

The evening rolled around and Spencer waited for his visitor in the library. He stretched out in the chair before drumming his fingers on the wooden table. He glanced up at the clock again. Whoever was coming was late and it was grating on Spencer’s patience.

He took his chip out of his pocket and rolled it around on the table. Spencer preferred to keep busy, it helped keep his mind occupied. Waiting around like this caused him to think about drugs.

His leg bounced up and down and the sound of the coin rolling back and forth across the wood was one of few sounds to be heard. There were only two other people in the library and one of those was the librarian, so it was deathly quiet.

He huffed out a breath as his leg continued to jiggle. On the far side of the library he heard the door open and if this wasn’t his visitor, Spencer was leaving. He had better things to do with his time. Like spend it with you.

He heard footsteps heading his way and he trained his eyes on the sound just like the FBI trained him to do. When someone came into view, Spencer dropped the chip on the table, jaw hanging open as he glared wide eyed at his visitor.

The man smiled brightly the second he saw Spencer and stopped in tracks, holding his arms open.

“Pretty boy,” Morgan beamed at him. “Get over here!”

Spencer leapt up from his chair and darted as fast as his leg would allow towards his friend and fell into his arms. Tears he hadn’t realised had sprung to his eyes started cascading down his cheeks as he buried his head into Morgan’s shoulder.

“Morgan, you’re here.” He wrapped his arms tightly around the other man, practically squeezing the life from him.

Morgan chuckled, patting the younger man’s back.

“Of course I am. I’m here, Spencer, don’t worry.” Morgan held him while he sobbed for a few minutes.

Spencer hadn’t realised how much he’d missed Morgan until right now. He felt overwhelmed that Morgan would come all this way to see him in his time of need.

Eventually his tears started to slow and he stepped back from Morgan’s hold and wiped his eyes on his sweater sleeve. Morgan motioned him back towards the table where they sat on opposite sides.

“Penelope called me. She’s worried about you. Everyone is.” Morgan removed his baseball cap and set it on the table next to Spencer’s chip.

“I know. I’m sorry you had to come all this way.” Spencer pouted.

“Nuh uh. Don’t you dare apologise to me, kid.” Morgan shook his head, his voice that strange combination of calm and stern that was just so typically Morgan.

“I can’t help it.” Spencer ran his fingers over the face of the chip. “You shouldn’t have had to come all this way just for me. You’ve got Savannah and Hank to worry about, you don’t need me adding to that.”

“Lucky for you, I’ve always been good at juggling many plates.” Morgan’s lips twitched up at the corner in a small smile. “So, you look better than I expected you to.”

Spencer smiled, picking up the coin and rolling it into his palm.

“I’ve put some weight back on. I’m still not back to where I was but I’m certainly more healthy than I was when I was admitted. And the withdrawals have mostly let up now. I still have moments where I feel like I’m going to die, but they are few and far between now.” he admitted.

“Are you getting your memories back? I heard you lost a large chunk of time?” Morgan leant his elbows on the table.

“Not really. I’m not sure they will ever come back to be honest. But I guess things are becoming clearer in a way.”

“How so?”

“My last coherent memory before I woke up here was buying cocaine for the first time. I can now clearly see that was a long time ago, probably eighteen months ago or so. The combination of the dilaudid and the cocaine is what scrambled my brain and caused me to lose so much time. I also had what I thought was a dream before waking up here and I think now it might have been real.” He mused out loud.

“What happened in it?” Morgan narrowed his eyes on him.

Spencer heaved a weighted sigh, clutching the chip tightly in his hand.

“It’s not strange for me to dream about faces from my past, but this was different. I think I passed out somewhere, overdosed. And I thought the people trying to help me were these people from my past. Cat was there but I think she was an innocent bystander trying to stop the bleeding in my leg wound. I attacked someone I thought was Mr Scratch but I think he was really a paramedic. Foyet was probably a doctor trying to help me and Lindsay Vaughn was likely just a nurse.

I think that’s when I was admitted to the hospital before I ended up here. I think I remember it but my recollections are hazy due to the drugs. They probably always will be.”

“Maybe that’s for the best. I know it’s probably scary not remembering but it might be your brain's way of protecting you.” Morgan offered a small smile.

“You’re probably right. I’m not sure I really want to know what I got up to.” Spencer chuckled dryly. “There’s one memory I would like to be able to ascertain whether or not it’s real though.”

“Care to share, pretty Ricky?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard about Y/N and the relationship I created in my mind.” Spencer sighed as he spoke, sitting back in his chair.

The look on Morgan’s face told him he knew all about that particular occurrence.

“Yeah, Prentiss told me.” he spoke a little guiltily.

“I think I remember the first night I met her, like, really met her. But I don’t trust my brain anymore so I have no idea if it’s just part of this fantasy I’ve created. The only difference is that Tara thinks she saw us together. Y/N always wore this bracelet and Tara was sure she saw me with a woman who was wearing it some two years ago.” Spencer rolled up his sleeve a little to show Morgan the purple and gold woven band he hadn’t taken off since the night in the pool.

Morgan looked from the bracelet back to Spencer’s face.

“Prentiss said she’s a patient here? Have you asked her about it?”

“Not yet. I probably should.” he rolled his sleeve back down.

“What is it you remember from that night?”

Morgan watched as Spencer’s cheeks flushed a deep red and he coiled his neck slightly into his sweater in embarrassment.

“I…I don’t want to talk about it.” Spencer gnawed on his lip.

A smile burst onto Morgan’s face and a soft chuckle left his lips at the younger man’s embarrassment.

“You don’t want to tell me about your sex life, pretty boy?” Morgan laughed, trying to keep as quiet as possible given the setting.

“I really don’t want to tell you about my sex life.” Spencer confirmed.

“You should talk to her. It might help to know if it's a real memory or not.” Morgan thankfully changed the subject.

“I’m scared it’s just another false memory. I’m not sure if I want to know the truth or not. I don’t know if I can cope with anymore disappointment.” He was playing with the chip in his hand when Morgan reached across the table and placed his hand on Spencer’s wrist.

Spencer stilled his movements and the look in Morgan’s eyes told him to open his palm, which he did. Morgan plucked the chip from his open hand and held it up to look at it.

It had been a golden colour once but now was more of a bronze. The words “To Thine Own Self Be True” were embellished around the outside and a little scuffed. In the centre was a triangle with the number one in the middle which was a little worn away where Spencer had repeatedly rubbed his thumb over the surface. Along each edge of the triangle were three words. Unity. Service. Recovery.

It was clear it had been handled frequently which wasn’t a surprise. Morgan could clearly remember the times he’d noticed Spencer rubbing it between his fingers during particularly bad cases when he was struggling the most.

“I remember how proud you were when you got this.” Morgan mused with a slightly dreamy smile.

“Yeah?” Spencer questioned.

“Yeah and you had every right to be. It was a huge achievement, kid. You were practically beaming from ear to ear the first time you showed me.” he gently placed the coin back in Spencer’s still open hand.

“I never thought I would make it a year. I was proud of myself.” he closed his palm and squeezed tightly.

“You know you’ll get there again, don’t you? I have absolutely no doubt that you will make it again. Hell, you’ll make it to ten years again. Twenty even.” Morgan grinned at him, in a knowing kind of way.

When he looked at Spencer like that, it was hard for Spencer not to believe him. Morgan might not have an IQ like Spencer’s but he always seemed to just know things. Sometimes Spencer thought Morgan might be able to see into the future or something, because he always seemed to know what was going to happen.

“I hope you’re right.” Spencer nodded.

“When have you known me to be wrong?” Morgan smirked at him.

“Plenty of times but I don’t want to make you feel bad by listing them all.” Spencer teased him, slipping the chip back in his pocket. “Thank you for coming to see me Morgan, I really needed this.”

“You are more than welcome, pretty boy. Want to take a walk?”

“Sure.” Spencer nodded, pushing his chair back and getting to his feet.

Morgan stood too and replaced his baseball cap, motioning for Spencer to lead the way. The two of them spent the next hour or so wandering around the institute and talking about everything and nothing all at once. And it was the closest Spencer felt to normal in months, maybe even years.

That night, Spencer slept extremely well, feeling surprisingly peaceful after his evening spent with Morgan. It was amazing what seeing his best friend could do to his mood.

***

He was pleased to find it carried over to the next day and he was more open in his group therapy than he had been since arriving here. He spoke at great lengths about his friendship with Morgan and how seeing him yesterday had invigorated him.

Between therapies and meals, he spent his free time scouring the institute for you and continuously coming up empty. He had no idea how you managed to avoid him so well, whether it was deliberate or not.

After dinner he wandered the courtyard and his feet instinctively carried him towards the rose garden where you’d been reading the first time he saw you at the institute. His heart practically soared when he spotted you sitting in the grass surrounded by rose bushes, your nose buried deep in a book.

You looked so peaceful as you read, with your hair falling slighting in your face, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth as you focused on the words on the page. Spencer watched you for a moment or two, enraptured by your exquisite beauty. It was no wonder you’d stuck in his mind the way you had, it wasn’t a surprise his brain has chosen you to create a fantasy life with.

One look at you and all the air left his lungs. You rendered him dumb when you were near.

You were so wrapped up in your book you didn’t even seem to notice him watching you. He could have stared at you all day and never got tired of it. But he had an urge to do a whole lot more than just stare at you.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Your eyes snapped up from the book in your lap and met Spencer’s as he approached you. You smiled softly at him and closed your book.

“I’ve been around.” You watched him cross through the rose bushes and come closer to you.

Once he was in front of you he cautiously lowered himself to the grass, trying to avoid too much strain on his still healing leg. You had your legs crossed and wore a skimpy sundress which gave Spencer the most perfect view of your thighs. It really wouldn’t be difficult for him at all to look right up your skirt.

Maybe that had been your plan.

“My eyes are up here, Spencer.” You giggled when he wouldn’t take his eyes off of your legs.

When he looked up to meet your gaze, his pupils were blown out.

“Is this for my benefit?”

“Not especially. It’s a hot day.”

“It just got a whole lot hotter.” He shuffled closer to you, his large hands finding your shins and tugged your legs out of their crossed position.

You let him manoeuvre you like a rag doll until your legs were straight and parted enough for Spencer to kneel between them. He cupped your face in his hands and smiled darkly at you.

“What are you doing?” Your voice was low and breathy.

“Finishing what we started.” With that he kissed you, quickly laying you back in the grass and pressing his body down on top of yours.

You moaned against his lips, feeling his erection pushing against you.

“Anyone could catch us. You heard what that nurse said. We could get in trouble.” You panted as his lips moved down to your neck.

Spencer sucked on your flesh, causing your back to arch and your hips to grind against him. He chuckled against your skin.

“No one comes around here. It’s probably safer here than in our rooms.”

He was probably right. And even if he wasn’t his lips were now casting across your collarbones and his hand was wandering your thigh so even if he wasn’t it didn’t matter. You were already too far gone.

His hand worked under your dress and his fingers ran along your sheathed core. Even through your panties it was clear how wet you were already.

“You want me to stop?” He laughed against your collarbones, fingers dancing over the fabric of your panties.

“N-no.” You whimpered and you were rewarded with the feeling of Spencer moving your panties aside.

A rush of cool air shot between your legs but you didn’t have long to focus on it as Spencer’s fingers were running through your folds.

“Fuck you’re so wet, angel.” He placed a kiss on your jaw.

“I k-know.”

Spencer chuckled as two of his long, nimble fingers entered your waiting cunt and he growled against your skin at the way you felt. His other hand pushed the top of your dress down to expose your breasts and he wasted no time in taking one of your nipples in his mouth.

You clamped your hand over your own mouth to stifle your moans as his teeth nibbled your sensitive bud. His fingers thrust in and out of your pussy, brushing against your cervix and causing your body to shake beneath him.

He swapped over and gave the same attention to your other nipple, using his fingers to stretch you in anticipation of his cock. You rocked a little against his fingers, and Spencer laughed at your eagerness.

You closed your eyes and let the waves of pleasure consume you so you didn’t notice he was moving lower down your body. When you felt his breath between your legs your eyes snapped back open and you stared down at him.

He smirked up at you, eyes practically black as he withdrew his fingers, making you whimper. You watched him take his digits to his mouth and sucked them clean of your arousal.

“Fuck angel, you taste so good.” He moaned around his fingers.

“F-fuck, Spencer.” You panted.

“Not enough. Need more.” He growled as he bowed his head between your legs and under your dress.

When his tongue lapped over your clit for the first time, your body spasmed in the grass, barely able to contain the loud moan that erupted from your lungs. Spencer buried his face between your legs, focusing his ministrations on your clit as your thighs clamped around his head.

He could hear your soft moans behind your hand and wished he could hear you screaming at the top of your lungs but he knew you both needed to be quiet. Your moans were like the sexiest lullaby to his ears and he wanted to bottle them so he could listen to them any time he liked.

His cock was throbbing inside his pants and he had to free himself to relieve some pressure. He lapped his tongue through your legs to collect your slickness on his tongue and palmed his shaft once it was out of his pants.

He wrapped his hand around the base and squeezed in an attempt to stop himself coming just from the way you tasted. He settled back on your clit, sucking and lapping over it vigorously while you writhed in the grass. His free hand found its way back between your legs and his two fingers entered you suddenly again, causing you to yelp.

Spencer moaned against you, feeling light headed from his own arousal. He buried his face into you completely, scissoring your cunt and feeling your walls flutter around his fingers.

“Fucking hell, angel.” He spoke against your core, sending vibrations through your whole body. “I could spend the rest of my life between your beautiful legs.”

You moaned behind your hand, your other one going to his hair and embedding your fingers in the roots.

“Spence, that feels so fucking good.” You whined, squeezing your thighs against his face.

He smirked, diving his fingers as deep inside you as he possibly could. Your body trembled beneath him and you felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Without meaning to he’d started stroking his cock, his precome leaking all over his hand. He was dangerously close to coming but he couldn’t find it in himself to stop.

“Are you close?” He spoke into you, tongue working hard to push you to the brink.

It felt like he was writing love songs between your legs, his tongue deft and experienced.

“Hmm.” You mumbled, clenching around his fingers.

His tongue picked up speed whilst his fingers dove deeper. He felt the coil in his stomach, the tell tale tightening that he was close himself.

He flattened his tongue against you and thrust his fingers harder inside of you. You whined, legs tightening around his face and tugging at the roots of his hair.

“F-fuck, Spence! I’m g-gonna come!” Your body shook violently and Spencer fought to keep you still the best he could while he continued to work you through your orgasm.

Your walls clenched around his fingers and the thought of feeling it around his cock was all it took to push him over the edge. He moaned against your clit as his cock throbbed in his hand and he shot streaks of come over the grass.

He withdrew his fingers from inside of you and held you down by your thighs, lapping up your arousal. You were whining and writhing and trying to push him away from your overly sensitive bud but Spencer insisted on cleaning up between your legs with his tongue.

“P-please!” You whined, tears sneaking out of your eyes. “S’too much.”

Still holding his now limp dick he sat back on his haunches and wiped his hand over his mouth. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you looked up at him. His stubbly jaw was glistening with your slick and his lips were red and puffy.

Your eyes trailed down his body to his softened cock.

“Y-you…you?”

“Yes, I came too.” He chuckled, laying down in the grass next to you and pulling you close for a kiss.

You moaned when you tasted yourself on his tongue, so delirious you barely noticed him wrap his arms around you and roll you on top of him. He kissed you deeply whilst fondling your breasts which were still out of the top of your dress. You rolled your hips against his and Spencer knew it would be no time at all before he grew hard again.

“That’s it sweetheart, grind yourself on me. Get me nice and hard again.” He nibbled your bottom lip whilst tweaking your nipples between his fingers.

You did as you were told, lifting your dress a little so you could grind your panty covered core against his cock. Spencer growled at the friction, giving your nipples a harsh tug. But the pleasurable growl that left your lips at the sensation spurred him on to do it again.

You felt him start to grow hard against you so grinded on him harder, sitting back so you could look down on him. His hands fell to his sides and he watched the way your glorious tits moved as you rocked against him. It reminded him so much of that vague dream of a night he may or may not have spent with you.

Once he was completely erect once more he took hold of your hips and lifted you over his dick. You lifted your dress again and moved your panties aside for him. His head pressed against your entrance, so heavy and thick you knew it was going to burn when he entered you but you couldn’t wait.

You placed your hands flush on his sweater covered chest and lowered yourself slowly. Spencer’s mouth fell open and his eyes rolled back in his head as his cock started to inch inside of you. Your face contorted a little at the swell of pain between your legs as he stretched you out inch by inch. But it was the most incredible kind of pain.

You were slow in your movements, letting him fill you up gradually, allowing yourself to steadily get used to his large length filling you up.

Spencer’s blunt nails dug into your hips as he patiently waited for you to get comfortable. He stretched you out, your walls fluttering against his shaft as they accommodated every inch of him. When he bottomed out inside of you, he looked up at you in wide eyed awe.

“You have no idea how fucking incredible that feels, angel.”

“You’re so fucking big.” You whined, involuntarily clenching around him.

“I know.” He smirked at you, rolling his hips to tell you to move.

You were slow to start off with, rocking your hips and back and forth a little while you got used to the way his heavy cock felt inside of you. You gradually started moving a little more, raising yourself up before taking him all the way again and having him crash against your cervix each time.

Spencer was smiling encouragingly at you, holding your hips to help keep you steady. Once the pain in your eyes became replaced with pleasure, he dared to start bucking his hips up to meet your movements.

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip to stop the moans that wanted to erupt from your chest. You moved lazily around him while Spencer took over control, setting the pace and snapping his hips up to slam inside of you repeatedly. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes again as you muttered his name beneath your breath.

He kept his eyes on your heaving breasts, hypnotised by the way they moved when he snapped up inside of you.

“Fuck, angel you feel so good.” He praised you after a particularly hard thrust that caused your tears to overflow.

“You’re so…you’re so…fuck Spence!” You whined, head flopping forward to your chest. You looked like a rag doll above him, letting him do whatever he wanted to you.

The burn between your legs from the way he stretched you only added to your pleasure and it was making you feel delirious. Tears rolled down your cheeks as he kept thrusting inside of you, picking up his pace.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh was the only sounds that could be heard in the rose garden aside from your stifled moans and Spencer’s heavy breathing. His hands left your hips and soon found purchase on your breasts. He rolled your nipples between his fingers as you rocked back and forth on him.

He could feel you tightening around him and it was making him dizzy. It had been such a long time since he’d had sex while sober and he’d forgotten what it felt like. Spencer always thought having sex while high was the most amazing feeling in the world. But the drugs had a way of numbing the body and the pleasure he was feeling now was nothing compared to how it felt when he was high.

He could feel every little movement. Every flutter of your cunt around his cock, every dip and curve of your body beneath his fingers. Every one of his nerve endings was on fire. The drugs didn’t allow him to feel every little sensation this way. Maybe there was something to be said about a sober lifestyle.

Suddenly you went rigid on top of him, your previously limp body trembling and your walls clamped down around him.

“F-f-fuck!” You screamed in shock as your second orgasm snuck up on you, the surprise was written all over your face.

You moaned languidly as you came around him, causing Spencer’s own cock to twitch at the sensation, knowing he wouldn’t be far behind. But he wasn’t an idiot and you hadn’t discussed birth control.

He held himself back from the brink while you rode out your orgasm, going limp once more. He helped your shaking body off of him and laid you back to the grass. You whined at the empty feeling, tears still rolling down your cheeks. He knelt over your still form with a dark smirk.

“Think you can swallow my load, princess?” He gripped the back of your neck and pulled your face close to his cock.

You whimpered and nodded pathetically, parting your lips for him. He cupped your jaw gently which was a stark comparison to the way he roughly thrust inside your waiting mouth.

Spencer did all the work, fucking your mouth while holding you steady. Your eyes rolled back in your head feeling completely used up. But in the best possible way. His balls slapped against you as he pounded into your mouth and he didn’t warn you before he came. His hot streaks of come hit the back of your throat making you splutter and cough but you swallowed every last drop.

Spencer slowed his movements, rocking a little in your mouth until he’d completely expelled himself. Eventually he pulled back and withdrew from your mouth. A string of saliva and come trailed from the head of his cock to your chin. He delicately wiped it with his hand before wiping it on his slacks. He cupped your jaw again and brought you close for a slightly messy kiss.

Once he let you go, you collapsed back to the grass. Spencer smiled to himself as he tucked his softening dick back in his pants. He pulled your dress down to cover your panties and helped you get your breasts covered again.

He laid down next to you and wrapped your still trembling body in his arms, pulling your head to rest on his chest. His heart beat erratically beneath your ear and you imagined yours was much the same. You closed your eyes and focused on the sound.

Sex had never felt like that before. You’d never felt so connected to another human being before in your whole life. It felt as though you and Spencer became one when he was inside of you. It was like his body became an extension of your own when he fucked you. Sex with Spencer was its own drug, one you never wanted to quit.

There was only one other time in your life you could remember feeling so tethered to a person you’d slept with but that was so long ago now, barely a distant memory…

…your eyes shot open and you shuffled in Spencer’s arms so you could look at him. Your eyebrows were knitted together in a confused frown and noticing your expression, he mirrored it.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered, stroking your hair back off your face.

“We…I…” you swallowed. “We’ve done that before.”

Spencer’s features softened into a small smile.

“I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it or not.”

“You didn’t. We’ve definitely done that before.”

“I’m so glad I didn’t make that up.” Spencer breathed a sigh of relief and you saw something flicker on his eyes.

You sat up a little on your elbows so you could look at him properly.

“Why do you always think you’re imagining things?”

You saw the flicker in his eyes again as he sat up and ran his fingers through his hair.

“You’ll think I’m crazy.” He sighed, crossing his legs in the grass.

You softly placed your hand on his knee.

“All the best people are.” You gave him a wry smile.

“The drugs they…did they ever cause you to create false memories?” He rolled his lip between his teeth.

“I’m not sure.” You frowned a little. “There’s certainly things I don’t remember. And things I have trouble discerning whether they are real or a dream.”

“Ok.” He nodded. “Well the drugs caused me to create an entirely alternate universe in my head, one which I’ve only just come to realise wasn’t real. We must have met when we were high, apparently slept together, and somewhere in my mind it all got fucking twisted.”

“Twisted how?” You looked at him curiously.

“I was convinced we were together, like a couple. I created these memories in my brain of you being an FBI Agent and us meeting through work. I have these really vivid recollections of you meeting my friends and us going on dates and falling in love. When I saw you here the first time, I thought you were my ex-girlfriend who came to visit me.

And I know now that none of it was real, I do know that. But it felt so fucking real and these images are so clear in my mind it’s hard to really believe it. I have an IQ of one hundred and eighty seven. I am a provable genius. My brain has always been the one thing I could rely on when everything else in my life went to shit. And it terrifies me that I can no longer trust my greatest asset.”

“Tell me what it was like.” You whispered, moving to lay your head in his lap. “Us falling in love.”

Spencer stroked your hair and breathed a sigh of relief that at the very least you didn’t think he was utterly insane. He recounted his manufactured memories to you in as much detail as he could. He told you every single one of his brain's creations of a life the two of you never really had together.

And somewhere along the way he realised he wasn’t just in love with a fake memory of you. Spencer knew as he told you those stories while you laid in his lap that he would be in love with any incarnation of you.

But his main focus was the version of you willing to listen to the made up stories of a drug addict about a life never lived. His only concern in that moment was how in love he was with the rose garden iteration of you.

And whatever variant you were tomorrow, he’d be in love with her too.

@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @measure-in-pain @takeyourleap-of-faith @ssa-uglywhore27 @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @justreadingficsdontmindme @spencer-reid-wonderland @tiredmilky @thatsonezesty13 @1mechanicalalligator @elle-28 @academiareid

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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pocket-size-cthulhu · 1 year

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So at the risk of being weird about someone with an illness, over the last few weeks Hank Green has gone from someone who i think is generally pretty cool, whose content i enjoy and whose work i generally admire, to being someone i actually actively look up to.

That's not because ✨ his battle with cancer is so touching and inspiring✨ or any of that weird inspiration porn bullcrap. I mean, i don't know, maybe this is still problematic. And also i want to make clear that if Hank decides to retreat from public life for a while, that's completely understandable and i think he should do whatever he needs to do to stay healthy and happy.

All of that being said, what i find so inspiring is the vulnerability and openness he has maintained, and the curiosity with which he has approached a new, scary phase of his existence.

He's being very open about things, inviting us to witness this in a way a lot of us wouldn't otherwise in our lives see someone - hearing about the vocal cords, the hair, the nausea, the weird pains. He's sharing some thoughts on life from his new vantage point. He's admitting when he's scared or sad, and also talking about the other complicated realities he's experiencing, like not wanting his identity to be swallowed up in cancer, not wanting to be pitied, and also feeling happy and grateful that it's treatable, he has access to treatment, etc.

And besides all that, he's continuing to be visible as the same person he always was, learning about cancer and chemo and radiation and the body and all of this with a level of zeal that would be surprising from just about anyone else, and sharing it, along with all other sciency and existential thoughts.

I think that's really cool. Because for a lot of us, "you have cancer" sounds like a death knell and what happens between "you have cancer" and either "you're cancer free" or death is kind of a black box. An apocalypse on the individual scale. Hank is taking the top off the box to show people some of the contents. And i don't know, i just think that's really cool - maintaining curiosity and openness and vulnerability and selfhood, and continuing to make visible what most of us turn away from, is a really bold choice.

It's a reminder that "the end of the world" or an apocalyptic event isn't actually The End, and people go on being delightful, curious, tender, scared and happy throughout what comes after the event that changes everything. Like Hank isn't some sanctified figure, he's literally just a guy - but i think that almost makes it even cooler of him.

Anyway. Thanks Hank. Wishing you a speedy recovery :)

#hank green

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lcvesjj · 1 year

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Reunited - Erin Lindsay x Fem!Reader

Pairing : Erin Lindsay x Fem!Reader

Summary : You and Erin meet in highschool and soon become best friends. Sadly you have to move to New York, but years later when you get an offer to join Chicago’s Intelligence unit the two of you are reunited and become more than friends.

Warnings : mentions of drinking, a little bit of angst, swearing, implied bad home life, mistakes I missed

A/n : I loved writing this :) This starts a little bit angsty but it ends all fluffy and sweet. Thank you for this amazing request @allivzs

Erin was very surprised when one day in maths class you had asked the teacher if you could sit down next to her. Even the teacher was a little bit shocked. You were known as one of the nicest and kindest people in the whole school.

The thing that had surprised Erin the most was that while you were usually sitting with your small group of friends, you had chosen to sit down next to her. She was known amongst the teachers and some students as the trouble maker with a troubled home life. While you were a good student with amazing grades and a huge sweetheart since you always tried your best to help everyone in any way possible.

Soon class started and you got busy with the work your teacher had assigned while he graded some tests from a different class. Erin just stared at her notebook not knowing what to do, she didn’t understand maths and most other subjects since she barely had any time to study with everything going on at home and with Bunny.

“Do you need any help with that question?” You asked gently, looking over to her. “Why are you being so nice to me?” Erin asked, avoiding your question.

“Well I think we all need a little kindness sometimes.” You smiled at her. “I can explain the problem to you if you want me too. I’m not the best at explaining it exactly but I could try and explain it to the best of my abilities.” You added, while playing with your necklace. “Sure I guess.” Erin looked over to you.

Maths class flew by fast since you spend most of it talking with Erin while also gently trying to explain the problem to her. After the bell rang you started gathering your stuff and so did Erin. Since it was lunchtime Erin started to head towards the bathroom since she hated sitting in the cafeteria and eating with all of the other kids.

You caught up with her and gently grabbed her hand and softly asked if she maybe wanted to eat lunch together outside.

“Are you sure you want to eat lunch with me? I don’t want you to pity me.” She replied looking you into your eyes.

“Of course I want to Erin! You are like the coolest person in this whole school.” Erin raised her eyebrows at your statement.

“I mean you are always able to stand up for yourself and you don’t take anyones bullsh*t and in my opinion that is pretty awesome. Since not everyone has the courage to do that. If you don’t want to eat lunch together, I’ll just leave you alone.” You smiled softly.

“Hey I never said I didn’t want to eat lunch together Y/n. I think you're pretty awesome but I’m just a little shocked that someone actually wants to eat with me.” Erin replied, looking down at her shoes.

“Now c’mon let's get to the cafeteria before all the good food is gone.” She added laughing while putting out her hand for you to hold.

For once Erin knew she had someone she could trust.

Soon you and Erin were always sitting together and eating lunch together. As more days passed the two of you got closer and closer. You started inviting Erin to do stuff together to just meet up and talk while walking around together. You helped her a lot when she had problems at home with Bunny or other things. One day it got so bad that she called you for help since Bunny was causing problems and she didn’t know what to do. You had sat by her side every time she was having trouble at home or simply a bad day. No matter the time or day, you were always by her side.

A few months later Erin met Hank Voight. That’s when her life started changing, she lost contact with Teddy and Bunny and got clean and stopped drinking and partying.

But she was terrified about losing you. You were her first real friend, who had also helped her a lot. Erin also once broke down to Camille that she didn’t want to move schools like Hank had suggested. She still wanted to be able to see you everyday and hang out after school.

Somehow Voight agreed to let her stay in that school under the rule that he could meet the famous girl - Y/n Y/l/n who Erin talked about a lot.

After meeting you Hank knew he made a good decision by letting her stay in that school. You were very polite and nice as always, when you came over for dinner one friday. Even though you were shaking and terrified inside since you heard about how strict Hank could be from Erin. You got along with all of them very well.

Hank took an even bigger liking to you, after you mentioned that when you grew up you wanted to join the police academy and become a detective. After dinner was over you started gathering up your stuff and after saying goodbye and promising to see Erin in school on Monday you left.

“You can tell Y/n that she can come over for dinner next Friday if she wants too.” Hank said after locking the door behind you.

“Thank you! She is pretty awesome.” Erin replied with a huge grin.

Sometime later you ran up the stairs leading towards the house of the Voight’s. You didn’t want to leave Chicago but your parents were insisting that you should move since your dad got a new job there and it would be hard to keep living here in Chicago.

But their decision was final, you had no choice but to pack up everything you owned and move to New York. Saying goodbye to Erin and the Voight’s was really hard. Before you left Erin had promised to keep in touch with you and write you letters.

Many years later you still thought about Erin a lot. Even though you were now all grown up and now you were a detective with the SVU in New York you still thought about the brown haired girl who had stolen your heart from a very young age.

Suddenly one day you got a call from Hank asking if you wanted to come back to Chicago and join his unit. And after talking with your captain you agreed to move back to Chicago and join Hank’s unit.

You couldn’t believe it but you were back in Chicago after many years. You moved into your old home since after talking with your parents they insisted on giving you the old home you used to live in.

For your first day Hank promised he would come pick you up and show you around the district. Sitting in his car you looked through the windows in amazement. So much has changed around Chicago.

“So are you ready for your first day with a new unit Y/n?” He asked while stopping at the red light.

“Yes I think I am. I’m really excited to meet everyone. How is Erin doing?” You asked curiously.

“She’s doing good. Erin still talks about you a lot, she missed you a lot kiddo. She has no idea that you are back in Chicago, I just told the unit that there will be someone new joining us. Al has probably already figured out who is joining.” He laughed.

After getting your new badge and everything sorted, you and Hank started walking up to the stairs towards the bullpen.

“Guys this is Detective Y/n Y/l/n. She’s transferred from SVU in New York and from now on she will be working with us. Antonio, this is your new partner. You have already met Al, so I don’t have to introduce him. But these are Detectives Jay Halstead, Antonio Dawson and Officer Burgess, Atwater and Roman. And Detective Lindsay is in the breakroom. ” Hank said, looking over at the unit. Erin walked in and asked in a confused tone. “Wait Y/n/n? What are you doing here”

“Well I transferred from SVU and it’s my first day here.” You smiled at her softly.

Voight just smiled at you both heading towards his office. Erin quickly walked towards you to wrap you into a warm hug. “I missed you so much.” She said, pulling you in tighter.

“I missed you more Erin.” You smiled at her gently pulling away.

“So you two know each other?” Jay asked, looking over at the both of you.

“Yea we do. We met a long time ago back in highschool.” Erin replied still not breaking eye contact with you. “It’s nice to have you back.” She added.

The day flew by fast since luckily you didn’t have a case, so you had plenty of time to get to know your new coworkers.

“Y/n do you want to join us at Molly’s? It’s a local bar owned by firefighters where we often hang out after a long day.” Jay asked, getting up and putting on his coat.

“I would love it too, where is this bar?” You replied while also getting up from behind your desk.

After Jay gave you the address to the bar you gathered your things and started walking down the stairs where you heard someone shout.

“Y/n/n can you please wait for me? I wanted to talk to you.” Erin asked. You just nodded in response standing on the stairs waiting for her to catch up to you.

“So how are you liking this unit Y/n/n?” She asked curiously.

“Everyone is really nice and I really look forward to working with you.” You smiled at her.

She looked really pretty with her red cheeks and slightly messy hair. You felt as if no time had passed since you sat down next to her and maths class. Erin was still as pretty as the day when you first saw her at school. You had been in love with her for many years and you still were. Returning to Chicago made your feelings grow even stronger. And as much as you loved New York it wasn’t the same without her by your side. You really missed this. You missed Erin a lot in the time you had been apart.

A while later you were both sitting next to each other at Molly’s drinking some beer.

“So how have you been Erin?” You asked awkwardly while playing with your watch.

“I’m doing good to be honest. I finally talked to Teddy after years and we are planning on meeting up soon.” She replied looking at you with a big smile.

“Oh that’s awesome! I’m really happy for you Erin. I missed you so much.” You smiled at her.

“I missed you so much Y/n/n. So how was New York?”

“If I’m being honest it was pretty boring without you. I really missed being able to hang out with you.” You smiled gently at her.

Erin laughed at your response, she missed this.

“Do you maybe want to get out of here and go somewhere?” She asked, drinking the rest of her drink.

“I would love to. Where do you want to go?”

“Do you want to maybe go to that park we used to go to when we were younger?” Erin said slowly getting up from her seat.

“Sounds good to me.” You replied.

After paying the bill for your drinks, you and Erin started walking towards her car. Since she was the one who drove you to Molly’s.

The park was really peaceful and quiet, and you felt really relaxed. Looking up you could see the stars in between the trees. This felt surreal to you. You never thought you would be back in Chicago with Erin and working for the intelligence unit.

“Y/n can I say something? Just please promise you won’t hate me for this.” Erin said slowly, looking over to you.

“I could never hate you Erin. No matter what, you’re my best friend and nothing or no one will change that.” You replied, grabbing her hand gently while rubbing small shapes into the back of her hand. Erin took a deep breath and said.

“I’ve been wanting to say this for ages but then you moved and other stuff happened... But I’m in love with you. I wanted to tell you earlier but I never had the courage to do so, since I’m terrified of losing you. I understand if you don’t feel the same but I just wanted to say it. Since I’ve been feeling like this for years.” Erin said, looking over to you with fear in her eyes. She was so scared you would hate her for this. She didn’t want to ruin your friendship or lose you.

“Erin, I feel the same. I’ve been in love with you for years. And I just thought you would never be interested in me so I never said it.” You replied softly looking over at her to see how relieved she looked.

“Can I kiss you?” She asked, looking at you in awe. You nodded and gently pulled her into a kiss.

“Do you want to go on a date with me Erin?” You said pulling away slightly.

“I would love to go on a date with you. Thank you for being so amazing and sweet to me, I really appreciate it especially because of what was going on at home.”

You smiled at her squeezing her hand softly.

“Well we all need a little kindness sometimes. And I’m so glad I met you Erin. Highschool wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Erin pulled you in for another kiss, leaning your foreheads together and placing a gentle kiss on your lips. Leaning your head on her shoulder you smiled widely.

You were finally home.

#erin lindsay #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #erin lindsay x reader #erin lindsay imagine #one chicago imagine #chicago pd x reader #one chicago x reader #one chicago

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andthekitchensinkao3 · 7 days

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AO3 ask game, whoo

1. What ratings do you write most of your fics under?

Explicit and Mature are tied at (18), and likewise for...

Teen And Up Audiences and General Audience (4)

2. What are your top three fandoms?

Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) (26)

Loki (TV 2021) (8)

And ONLY because I decided to chop that one fic up into Acts instead of chapters: Baldur's Gate (Video Games) (3)

Which feels like cheating, really, because it's really just a Lokius fic in BG3 drag. 😘😁

3. What is the top character you write about?

Hank Anderson (24)

Connor (Detroit: Become Human) (24)

Ahahahahah, HankCon foreverrrrrr XD

4. What are your top three pairings?

Hank Anderson/Connor (24)

Loki/Mobius M. Mobius (9)

Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human) (3)

5. What are the top three additional tags

Angst with a Happy Ending (7)

Alternate Universe (6)

Nonbinary (tied with Genderfluid) Connor (Detroit: Become Human) (6)

I sense a ~theme~ XD

6. Does any of this surprise you?

Not really. I've been pretty stuck in HankCon since I finished the game for the first time, back when it released. And while I love PoI, I've never really had the confidence to write for the fandom. Plus, I want Season 1 back, already. Without the weird Surprise GF from the past/no Finch is totally straight!! move on behalf of the production team.

One thing that does kinda surprise me is I don't have more fanfics tagged Alternate Universe, because AUs are my JAM. Where you at, random AUs?

Oh, right. I'm working on 'em. Peace out! Anyone who sees this, consider yourself tagged! Also, thank you to @lokimobius and @thosegayoldmen

#ao3 ask game #dbh fanfic #lokius fanfic #poi fanfic

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mantisfriendd · 7 months

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FNAF MOVIE NOVEL REVIEW

I just finished reading the FNAF movie novel, and id like to give some thoughts on it

This post will contain spoilers for both the FNAF movie and it's novelization! continue at your own risk!

Overall I would say this is a pretty good adaptation of the movie, and it actually provides some additional context for some of the weaker plot points of the movie. A prime example being Aunt Jane's motivation for wanting custody over Abby. In the book there is a trust fund for Abby set up by her grand parents, Jane wants to take this money for herself and sees getting custody of Abby as the ticket to that money.

Some scenes in the book play out much differently then in the film, but generally things end in the same spots as they do in the movie.

being inside the characters heads allows us to get more characterization out of everyone, and for the most part I really like what they did here.

EDIT: The section on Doug is no longer relevant, Scott has announced that book Doug is non cannon, and new prints of the book have entirely rewritten his character, I don't have a newer print so I can't tell what's changed, maybe I'll buy one eventually to see.

The only character who I think is a direct downgrade from the film is unfortunately Doug. In the film Doug comes off as a hapless lawyer who is being held hostage by his client who is clearly in the wrong, and he still comes off like that in the book but with a clear difference. In the film we feel sorry for him, clearly he's not a bad guy, he's caught up in something he doesn't want to be in. In the book he is barely spoken about, and when he is described he is described as being spaced out and nearly catatonic. Other then not wanting to be there his only other trait in the book is being a creep. The Sparky's Diner scene is seen from Max's perspective in the book, and we get some amazing characterization from her, expressing her discomfort with the entire meeting with Jane and the plan her brother hatches. At some point in the scene she catches Doug staring at her breasts. (sidenote I think this might be the only time the word "breasts" appears in any FNAF book, just a strange inclusion for a series about murder pizza bears)

This is strange characterization for a fan favorite character in the original film, and nothing in the film would lead you to expect this kind of thing from him.

Sidenote here in the book Ness (Matpat's character) is said to be the son of the owner of Sparky's and the book describes him as an "Auburn-haired teen" which is a funny thing to call a man in his 30s.

Minor nitpick aside I think both the movie and the film are acceptable ways to experience the plot, some of the things I thought were weird could just have been my knowledge of the films events changing my perspective.

I also enjoy the reinstatement of some of the elements from earlier screenplays and earlier cuts of the film that we know about from various cast members. The father son relationship of Hank and Carl and Garrett appearing in the archway before The Yellow Rabbit appears being some examples.

The book is also way more gorey then the film was, to my surprise. I was almost shocked at the end of the book where both Vanessa and Mike are in a pool of their own blood, the FNAF books have always gone a little harder with the gore then the games have but I guess I wasn't expecting it because of how much of a blockbuster the film was. You know with all the eyes on everything FNAF movie related, but I'm happy to say the FNaF movie novelization keeps with the tradition of surprisingly bloody Scholastic published books.

I quite enjoyed my time with this book, if you haven't read it and wanna give it a go after watching the movie, I'd say it's a worthwhile read. I also read it pretty quickly, but it might have something to do with me already knowing the plot so I didn't have to let it sink in as much

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's movie #fnaf movie spoilers #fnaf movie novel #FNAF movie novelization #five nights at freddy's movie novel #fnaf books

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kamryn1963 · 2 months

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So Long, London- Chapter 2

Surprise, I guess? Somehow this what was going to be a oneshot, evolved and now I have the next three chapters planned and I know it will be longer.

No idea how many chapters yet or how often I'll post, ideally every couple days, but my motivation to write anything has been pretty inconsistent lately so will see. A current project usually motivates me so who knows.

Anyhow enjoy!

It had been a few weeks since that night. The night Al called it quits and left, ending up at Trudy’s.

Since then a few things have changed.

Al and Meredith had started the divorce process. They had a long and emotional conversation the day after Al left, and had come to the same conclusion that whatever they once had was gone. Al had talked a bit with Lexi, but she had been too emotional to talk more and Al eventually left.

He’d been staying with Trudy since then and it was going good. They would have breakfast together, head to work and then order in or make something for dinner.

Most of the time Al cooked. Trudy was already doing him a big favor and letting him stay so the least Al thought he could do was make dinner.

“You do know that I can cook too”. Trudy said one night as Al started cooking the pasta for the chicken parmesan he was making.

“I do. But you're letting me stay here for free and won’t let me give you some money. The least I can do is cook”. Al replied and Trudy sighed.

“I don’t need your money, Olinsky. I’m just helping you the same you helped me”.

He thought about that time years ago when Trudy was with her then fiance Marcus who cheated on her a week before their wedding. Trudy had rightfully been a wreck after that and Al and Meredith had offered their spare room to her which she accepted.

Lexi had only been around five at the time and didn’t really understand, but loved having her Aunt Trudy around. Trudy had stayed for a few weeks before getting back on her feet and finding her own place.

Al knew what he was going through now was similar to then and he should just accept Trudy’s help but he couldn’t help but feel like he had to pay her back. That he was burdening her no matter how many times she told him he wasn’t. That he was a bother and should’ve gone somewhere else.

That he shouldn’t have burdened Trudy with his own marriage problems. Especially when he knew she was in a new good relationship with that firefighter, Randall, Al thought his name was.

Her life was going well and he was happy for her. He shouldn’t be ruining that with his fucked up life.

“Alvin, I can hear your thoughts from here. You're not a burden and never have been”. Trudy said suddenly, her voice surprisingly gentle as she rested her hands on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry”. Al didn’t know what else to say other than an apology.

“Don’t be. Why don’t I call Hank? You’ve made enough food for us three and we can eat and drink like the old days?” Trudy suggested and Al couldn’t even find it in him to argue.

He knew he’d probably be questioned on how he was feeling and his emotional state, but for once he didn’t care to stop what was going to happen anyway.

Trudy nodded and once she thought he was calm enough, headed to the living room to call Hank while Al finished dinner up.

Hank was there twenty minutes later just as Al and Trudy were plating their food. Hank joined him silently and soon they all settled down on Trudy’s couch.

Hank, unsurprisingly, was the one who broke the silence. “So Al, how’s things going with the divorce?”

Al nodded as he took a sip of his drink and turned to Hank. “Good, just settling things between us like the house and what not”. Al really didn’t feel like going into more detail on that right now.

He still wasn’t sure if this was the right decision. Sure everybody, including Meredith, did but some part of Al felt like he should’ve tried harder to fix his marriage. That he should’ve been a better man. A better husband.

“Well that’s good. Do you need some time off? I’m happy to give you a couple days”. Hank offered and Al didn’t say anything at first.

He had thought about asking already. Lexi had agreed yesterday to meet with him to finally talk in the next couple days, so he wanted to take the day off for that and he and Meredith were settling their bigger affairs in the following few days which was going to take time.

“You should, Alvin”. Trudy replied and he nodded.

“Alright, just let me know when you’ll be back. You have plenty of personal days though”. Hank responded and Al was extremely grateful for his friends unwavering and unconditional support.

An hour later found them talking over a few beers. The conversation was light and Al had missed this. It had been a long time, probably before Hank was arrested, before Camille died that this had happened.

The four of them, Al, Trudy, Hank and Camille, used to get together a lot after the kids went to bed and just talk and drink.

Al had missed that, he missed Camille and he knew he always would. He reminded himself to stop by her grave soon.

“It’ll be okay, man”. Al was snapped out of his thoughts by Hank’s slightly slurred words.

“What?” Al asked as he shook his head and looked between Hank and Trudy.

“I said it’s going to be okay”. Hank repeated.

“Yeah”. Al said hesitantly really not wanting to talk about his fucked up life anymore that night.

“Alvin it is. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now and I can imagine it’s hard to think about but everything is going to be okay. Maybe not today or maybe no even next month, but eventually it will be. You’ll be okay, happy”. Trudy added and maybe it was the alcohol talking but Al wanted to cry.

Al didn’t say anything, since he was pretty sure he would’ve started crying if he did, but he just nodded. God, he loved them.

“I love you guys”. Al said and Hank reached out grabbing his hand and squeezing it.

“We know”. Hank replied and Al laughed as he leaned his head against Hank’s shoulder.

“Glad to know it didn’t get to your head yet”. Al replied as Trudy smirked from where she sat on the armchair across from them.

Yeah, Al had missed this a lot.

The rest of the night was just as nice. Al was thankful it was the weekend as they were up drinking and talking later than Al would like to admit. Eventually around two, Hank crashed on the couch and Al and Trudy made it to their respectable rooms for the night.

Al knew he was going to be so hungover in the morning, but knew he didn’t regret it. He needed this and he knew Hank and Trudy had known that.

#chicago pd #alvin olinsky #trudy platt #hank voight #hurt/comfort #best friends #ao3 #fanfiction #season 2 #I love Al and Trudy's friendship so much #chicago pd old timers trio

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saltymongoose · 2 years

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MSG: What if…. Tf2 characters in MadCom universe?? This came in my head suddenly, I'm sorry 😭 - @gr4cefully-bon

Honestly, I really love TF2, the characters are all blorbo material. Having all the Mercs from the game in Madness Combat would definitely be very chaotic though lmao. Typically the people we discuss have some sort of serious disposition (like the Batter or Doomguy) or they're very innocent (Kirby), but the Mercs are almost the opposite of them.

To start off with them as a group, I think they'd be at odds with your grunts most of the time. It's highly likely that they believe they can do jobs faster and more efficiently with their specialization and how they work together - and they're actually correct. It's not surprising, considering how incredibly smart some of their members are and the fact that there are simply more of them in their group. For this reason, the boys see them as being more of a substantial threat in their competition for your favor. However, your main vessels also have their own problems (or lack thereof) with each Merc individually too.

(Rest under the cut because this is a long one. I'm not joking, this is very general but also somehow fic length? 😅)

Starting with Scout, I can definitely see them disliking him for how much of a loudmouth he is, and he would definitely get into arguments with Deimos a lot (because of course they'd start fights with each other, they're too headstrong not to). I also think Scout's tendency to trash-talk your vessels (because he's obviously better than them) would be very grating to Sanford and Doc specifically. Those two are just trying to be cordial most times but it's so annoying to have him constantly badgering them about everything.

Hank, on the other hand, is more offended by how the Bostonian tries to show off around you. Whether Scout does it for romantic reasons or not is up for interpretation (because Ms. Pauling is still someone to consider, even if she's not there), but he still tries to impress you, which puts him at odds with your vessel. Even worse, it's not like Hank can just kill him to get rid of him since his Medic will just bring him back again. (Very ironic, all things considered.)

Scout’s very competitive by nature, so most of his views on your vessels are initially related to how he can prove that he’s better than them. He already has them beat on speed (although Deimos comes close), but he’s sure he can find some way to scheme his way past their ferocity. It’s not hard for him to notice that your grunts do nearly everything for your approval, so a part of him figures that you can be the incidental “judge” over this (another reason why he shows off so much around you). Although, he also makes jokes about how they “suck up” to you, only to realize that they’re completely genuine about going unbelievably far for your affection. It’s kinda weird, but since he also becomes friends with you, he can get it. Sorta.

He likely ends up befriending Sanford further, especially if some of the details about Scout's Ma are revealed. Scout's pretty close with his mother, or at least to the level of being pretty protective over her, and Sanford's the same way with his. I can see Sanford kinda nudging the Mercs to cut it out if they make jabs at Scout about this specifically, which definitely makes the Merc in question see him in a new, better light. It's probably why he'll interrupt the others (Spy) when they try to get real friendly with you as a way to return the favor, which also has the bonus of improving his relations with the other grunts too.

Maybe a few well-times jokes might liken him more to Deimos (he is "the funny one" after all), but he's probably a bit scared of Hank no matter how much time is spent around him; the man's kinda like Pyro but without any of the innocence. Scout enjoys combat, but not to the horrifying level Hank appears to. It makes him uneasy. Doc is fine enough, but his whole meddling with death and mortality reminds him a bit too much of his own Medic. But, you know, a lot more closed off and cold. Like everyone else in his group, he's mostly fine with them at the very least, since you've got a pretty good handle on them in terms of behavior.

The Engineer is probably one of the more tolerable for your grunts, simply because he's pretty polite and hospitable. He's probably one of the Mercs who actually acknowledges that you're all on the same side, so there's no reason to go picking fights. However, he does still flex his technical knowledge a lot of the time, which might tick off Deimos (and Doc) a fair bit. It's still pretty tame, though. Sanford is probably just chill with him, although Hank might try to target his turrets and such just to get a new gun out of it, if possible.

Engineer’s thoughts on them, on the other hand, are very similar to that of his own crew. Hank reminds him of the violence everyone is capable of, Deimos is fairly similar to Scout (even their hats/visors are practically the same), and Sanford reminds him of a mixture of Demoman and the more lowkey members of the Mercs. 2B shares a lot of practical traits with Medic, which is to be expected as well. As a result of these similarities, he finds himself warming up to that rather quickly. Plus, he's used to how rambunctious a group of murderous people can be, so he's able to adapt to whatever they throw at him. (Although it still annoys him when Hank tries to break one of his machines - if you could make him not do that, that'd be great.)

Despite your boys’ initial dislike of him, I could see them becoming friends down the line. Engie is really nice and down to earth, and I think he would understand why the boys weren't exactly happy about his group arriving (in reference to you, of course) which means that he can also lessen whatever tension is there.

Heavy is another one who the guys wouldn't have that big of an issue with since he's just very mellow. His love for combat (and use of his minigun) is something Hank can appreciate, especially since he doesn't really do it for your attention. Deimos and Doc seem to like his rather morbid sense of humor, and Doc finds him likable on an intellectual level. Also, as it turns out, Sanford can whip up some pretty good sandwiches, so that's something for them to "bond" over in addition to everything else. It's to be expected; Heavy is a pretty likable guy.

In Heavy's view, he starts off pretty indifferent to them in the beginning. They get along well enough, since he’s not exactly new to being around a group of murderous mercenaries, but he likely won’t be as close to them as his own squad. This might change, with time spent going over weapons with Hank, cooking with Sanford, and having lively discussions with Deimos (who is notably not as obnoxious as Scout) and Doc about literature and such. (A lot of the things Heavy has read are actually nonexistent in Nevada, which just makes the topic more interesting to the grunts. Luckily for them, you also want to know what they're discussing, so they get to be with you when they do it. Does this make the grunts like Heavy more by proxy? Maybe.)

Medic, on the other hand, has disagreements with 2B a lot. Oddly enough, it's usually just Doc's problem. Medic's very eccentric, more so than any scientist 2B's come across before (well, save for Tricky). Then you add this to the fact that Medic is very intelligent, and actually has concrete knowledge of the medical field (including reviving people), and you have someone who could very easily take Doc’s place in your little group. Of course, realistically speaking there isn’t actually any chance of that happening - but the fact that you now go to Medic instead of 2B for anything medically related makes that fear rear its ugly head once in a while, no matter how irrational it is. (You probably just do it so you aren’t “bothering” 2BDamned with things he might have to work to research. He really wishes you wouldn’t worry about that; he’d spend weeks pouring over textbooks just to give you a single answer, and would be happy all the while just because you thought to ask him.) It also doesn’t help that Medic had a far better first impression with you, showing genuine interest in you and your abilities and accepting your power immediately instead of the doubt and suspicion Doc gave you.

Doc’s direct confrontations with him are kicked off more from his obvious skepticism of Medic’s experiments, but they don’t go very far, since Medic is too busy actually working on them to entertain anything else (unless it’s his teammates getting themselves injured and/or killed, which happens a lot). Sanford is probably very wary around Medic since he views the man as wildly unpredictable and dangerous (besides, who knows what experiments he’d end up doing with a whole other species to use). Deimos has the same reaction for the most part, but he does have a lot of curiosity about his experiments too, just because they’re interesting. The medigun is also an engineering marvel in his eyes, so I can see him trying to formulate some way to ask about it. As for Hank, well, let’s just say that the ÜberCharge is something he finds fascinating. Being bulletproof would make taking out enemies (and impressing you) so much more efficient for him, and it could cement his place as more of a powerhouse among the grunts you use as vessels. Plus, with how big he is, Medic might not even have to find a Mega Baboon heart to do it which could make the idea more tempting for him. (Now, how to get away with it without 2BDamned trying to prevent it-)

As for Medic’s thoughts on them, he thinks they’re interesting. They’re a team that operates like his, but without all the maximized specialization. Adaptable as teammates, and brought together for the single purpose of working for you, their collective Player (which is admittedly a lot better than working for either of the Mann twins). He can also probably view parallels between them and his own group, which makes him a lot friendlier, in his own way. He’s still absorbed by his work, of course, but he won’t pass up a chance to have some conversation with them if they’d like. He’d probably be quite intrigued by the entire “mythos” of Nevada, with the Employers, the Higher Powers, the Other Place, S-3LFs, etc. - and grunt biology, naturally. So the potential conversations with your cross-faced vessels would be a good way to learn about it, which is a bonus for him.

However, he finds it a bit strange that they seem so hesitant to discuss you. They are obviously fond of you, so why would they shy away from talking at length about your abilities? (It’s actually because they don’t think he deserves to know everything about you, which he’ll likely come to figure out rather quickly. The behavior from them is too weird not to. Luckily he can just ask you directly.)

Demoman and Soldier are probably some of the more inherently likable Mercs, since they honestly fit right in Nevada’s wasteland and are genuinely funny (even if they don’t mean to be). Sanford is your group’s explosive expert, so he probably tries to get some pointers from Demoman about stickybombs and how to make himself more effective on this front (to assist you better, of course). And considering how personable Demoman is, and the fact that he's more than happy to explain his craft to such an eager "student", it’s really no trouble at all for him to do it. He probably becomes friends with him over this too, which makes things easier for you. Deimos and Hank also have a fascination with the explosives, but the latter comes closer to outright taking them to use them (so Demoman appreciates how the others in your group (and you, mainly you) stop him from doing that). Doc’s rather curious about why his eye doesn’t grow back after Medic heals him but decides not to ask after Medic started going on and on about monsters and demons when he tried to discuss it one time.

Soldier’s an absolute riot, and I think Sanford and Deimos are the types to play along whenever he “orders” them to do something like common soldiers. Nevada doesn’t really have any military forces in the traditional sense (no use for Bootcamp when Nevada is such a violent place anyway), so it's weirdly fun for them to indulge in it. Soldier also probably favors them because of this, which you find hilarious.

However, Hank is more disapproving of anyone trying to order him around (because he only accepts your word now - and maybe 2B's still), which would become a small source of conflict between them. Even more annoying is Soldier's view that Hank just needs to be whipped up into shape to behave "properly" (which is never gonna happen, cause this is Hank). Doc doesn't interact much with Soldier, even if his actions are very entertaining. It's simply not in 2B's nature to be around such outgoing people for long periods of time; he finds it draining, and he'd loathe if he ended up missing out on time he could've spent with you if he's too busy recharging his social battery. There is one thing they all appreciate about Soldier, though, this being that his bravado is constant. Soldier's grandiose attitude and overzealous methods aren't restricted to when he's in your presence, which is part of the reason why all your boys like (or at the very least, tolerate) him more than some of the others.

Sniper evokes a lot of disgust from the whole jar weapon he uses (o_o), but his “professional” demeanor makes him very easy to be around. Your grunts don’t have a trained ranged specialist (2B doesn’t count since field work isn’t his primary role), so they suppose that you using him isn’t too bad. It’s a lot easier to focus on people they’re fighting for you if the opposing side’s snipers are being taken care of by one of yours. They’ll still pout about it and try to one-up him of course, but they won’t be as deeply offended or irked as with some others.

However, Sniper being charming and notably enjoyable company also means you like being around him, which makes your boys less than enthused. It’s not like Sniper is trying to be that way, but it still makes them tense. Although, Sniper notices how they are around you (it’s very obvious) so he’ll tease them about it, maybe even siding up closer to you every now and then just to see how mad they get. Nothing serious, but enough to make jokes about you having your own guard dogs (which doesn’t actually offend them, weirdly enough). It’s a bit tense on their side, again, but Sniper’s lax enough not to let it bother him. Besides, with how quirky his own group is, he has more than enough tolerance for the grunts’ weirdness.

Pyro is actually pretty harmless from their viewpoint. Your boys see how you two draw little pictures of unicorns and fairies together, and how cheerful he is despite being overly violent, and they just can’t find him all that threatening. Hank is amused by his jovial attitude concerning literally burning people alive, while Deimos enjoys showing off his pyrokinesis to the weirdly-innocent pyromaniac. It’s kind of a bonding point, and I think all of your boys would find Pyro rather endearing in his genuine attitude, even if Doc and Sanford are a bit worried about his psyche. (Was it combat and trauma that made him like this? The mask he wears?-)

Pyro probably just sees more new friends when he meets your grunts, like how he views the Mercs on his own team (and even the other nine Mercs). He’s excessively friendly and upbeat, constantly inviting them to whatever you and he are doing (tea parties, drawing, fixing up his flamethrower, you helping him sharpen his axes, etc.) and they agree each time, which makes him even happier. He's probably the one they have the best relationship with, purely because they don't think of him as a threat in any sense, so they're alright with him getting all cozy with you. So long as it's not too cozy, of course. You're still their Player too.

Finally, there's Spy. Otherwise known as the single Merc which your boys just cannot stand in any capacity; the one person out of the nine eccentric humans who they have the most conflict with. Why? Because of his propensity to flirt with you anytime and anywhere possible. He’s a suave smooth-talker, a gentleman among homicidal maniacs, and he just won't shut up when he's around you. Always complimenting your eyes, comparing you to flowers, and calling you terms of endearment. Talking about how your beauty puts the sunrises and sunsets of your world to shame, and how the stars could only feel ashamed to come so far from how brilliant you shined in comparison. And you always blush and roll your eyes, because you know it's probably not that serious, even if it's flattering.

You even tell your grunts about this, hoping to make them ease off from being so threatening towards him. However, this just exacerbates the problem. Who the fuck does he think he is, just flustering you for no reason? Pulling you around like you're some kind of toy he can play with for entertainment?

Spy doesn't deserve to even think such terms about you, especially if they're ingenuine. And even if they weren't, it couldn't measure up to a fraction of the love they have for you. It honestly makes them consider outright killing him, consequences be damned. It's not like anything would be permanent, since Medic could just revive him anyway. But your sure disappointment in them and inevitable hurt from this prevents them from doing so. (Spy doesn't know how lucky he is, that the grunts' fondness for their Player surpasses even their bloodlust.)

Instead, they settle for glaring, pulling you away from him, distracting you whenever you're about to interact, or just outright blocking him from viewing you (Hank, Hank does all this the most). Deimos will also loudly talk over him, insult him, or just fluster you himself by using his voice (and looking smugly at Spy when you blush from a small, genuine comment (and/or innuendo) from him). Sanford will point out how worthless his comments are if he doesn't mean them, and how you deserve better than some womanizer. Doc can come up with any excuse under the sun as to why you need to be doing something other than talking to him and make it sound believable. Anything to stop him from flirting with you.

So it's definitely a mixed bag insofar as your grunts' reactions to the TF2 Mercs. Some are closer with them than others, which is only natural. However, all of this only stands if the Mercs themselves don't have a confirmed romantic (and/or obsessive) level of interest in you, which would make things worse by far lmao.

#tw: yandere #scout 🤝 sanford - being mama's boys #I could probably expand more on this too so just lmk if you have any questions lol #mutuals ✨#gr4cefully-bon

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littlewestern · 2 years

Text

On Hank

(This one goes out to the anon in my askbox who requested Hank for the bingo meme. I'll do you one better <3)

So to preface this I think some context is required. I’ll be brief.

When I started this train misadventure with @greatwesternway, I personally had no plans to watch beyond Season 6, which was the last season that I remembered watching as a child and so the last season I had any personal attachment to. Once that had been done, however, and I still wanted more trains, I skipped directly to season 17 (to see Duck) and then proceeded to watch the rest of the CGI (backtracking to season 13) and then all the movies and specials.

This watch order left a gap, Seasons 7-12. I was not looking forward to watching Seasons 7-12. I had no special memories associated with them, and knew from prior research that the characterization and writing was… shall we say, less than stellar. I also knew that these seasons added many one-off characters that the CGI would not end up carrying over, and which I had basically zero interest in. Who cares about Flora the steam tram? Not me, certainly.

Imagine my surprise, then, when Season 12 (of Steady Eddie infamy) delivered perhaps my favorite one-off character of the entire show, and a pretty good all-around episode in general.

Let’s talk about Hank and his episode, Heave Ho, Thomas.

Despite appearing in only one episode, we know a lot about Hank’s character. We know that he’s big, strong, gregarious, friendly, quick to compliment others, and– perhaps most importantly– American!

Yes, the engine whose color scheme is red, white, and blue and who has a Texan accent (which Michael Angelis is attempting so, so bravely) is American. Shocker!

I’m pointing this out primarily because it’s interesting on its own: the show never directly states that he is from America, but it’s made very clear to the audience that that is the case.

There are many American engines on Sodor (Rosie, Caitlin, Connor, Porter, Timothy, Victor) but Hank is the only one (aside from Victor, who I would consider a special case) who is shown to be Culturally American. Most of these other engines are given British (or in the case of Caitlin and Connor, Irish for some reason) accents and their status as transplants isn’t really commented on in the canon.

I’m not bringing this up in relation to Hank because I have a problem with this from a technical perspective, but because Hank being American is– I would argue– actually the crux of the whole episode and what makes it work.

(Hank actually gets a model face as opposed to a CGI one for this shot! This episode might have been planned for before the decision to switch to CGI faces had been finalized.)

The episode proper starts with Hank arriving on Sodor. Thomas and Percy are both excited to meet this new special and strong engine, but Thomas expresses some doubt that he could be stronger than any of the engines on Sodor. Already we’re seeing some hometown pride from Thomas, indicating both that Hank is an outsider and that wherever he’s from, Thomas thinks Sodor is better. Sir Topham Hatt gives Thomas his 3 strikes jobs for the day, which he instructs Thomas to do while showing Hank around the island.

Hank arrives and immediately sets Thomas off by calling him “one of the finest little engines [he’s] ever seen”. Thomas, being as he is, takes offense at being called “little”, disregarding of course that to Hank, the big fuckoff PRR K4 Pacific, every engine on Sodor is little. And of course, Hank doesn’t mean “little” as an insult either. He means… cute! But Thomas, being as he is, gets buttmad about it.

Hank sees the load of freight cars Thomas is set to haul to the factory and offers, quite magnanimously, to take them instead, setting Thomas off even more. And perhaps Hank is underestimating Thomas here, but on the other hand, to Hank it would be like offering to carry a child’s backpack. The narration even tells us that Hank is merely trying to be helpful. He’s got that Southern Hospitality thing goin’ on!

As these seasons adhere to a specific formula it doesn’t take a genius to see where this episode is going. Thomas doesn’t exchange his current train for the next as he was instructed and instead tries to do all of them together as Hank watches, offering each time to pull the train instead and getting turned down. Part of that aforementioned Southern Hospitality, though, is taking people at their word, and so Thomas struggles on in a valiant attempt to win the Cutting Off Your Nose To Spite Your Face Award.

(Thomas, all out of Puff and Pull.)

It’s here that he gets called "Handsome Hank" in the episode by the narrator in passing. This is fun, because I love when one of the stereotypes Americans are given outside this country is that they're attractive. I suspect this comes from our only cultural export being film for 100 years, and so the impression that people who don't live here got was that Americans all look like movie stars.

Hank being called this is interesting though, in that sense, it characterizes him as American again without outright stating the fact, but it's also interesting because 'handsome' is not an adjective that gets ascribed to engines in canon. For this reason, I suspect it is a title in the vein of "Duck The Great Western Engine" or "James the Red Engine". It's a name given by humans to the engines as a form of address.

Because if it isn't... Well, how-dy Hank! Thomas (or the Narrator at least) thinks you look handsome! Add that to the list of things Thomas just can't stand about this guy! He swanks in here, disrespects Thomas, belittles him, and has the gall to look good while doing it. What a Hospitable asshole!

(Handsome Hank! I absolutely love these pieces of concept art and I'm so glad we have them.)

Hank is so Hospitable in fact, that when Thomas is completely out of steam and can’t whistle at the stations because of the heavy train, Hank announces in front of God and everybody that because Thomas is out of puff: he, Hank, will whistle for him! To Hank, this is just common courtesy. If he can’t pull the train, the very least he can do is whistle for his new friend.

Of course, this is about the worst thing you could say in front of an engine like Thomas. Thomas, who thinks everything is a competition, every offhand comment a slight against him personally, and every action he can’t do a knock against his own Usefulness. It’s not his fault, really. When you come up on a British railway with engines like Gordon and James, you expect to be belittled and patronized. But Hank isn’t being passive-aggressive here, he’s just being American!

Well of course, as it goes with these seasons, Thomas cracks a cylinder and learns a lesson about asking for help or somesuch, Hank has a party thrown for him and is promptly forgotten about for the rest of time forever, The End. It’s not a very satisfying conclusion or a particularly good episode when taken at face value, but I think it works if you look at it as a Cultural Differences sort of episode, where the sensibilities of two different railways come into contact and are, at least initially, at odds with each other.

And actually, doing some research for this episode, I found out that Heave Ho, Thomas was never shown in Japan on tv or released for home media. Maybe they thought an episode like this wouldn’t translate well for a Japanese audience? Interesting, either way!

#ttte #ttte hank #ttte thomas #thomas the tank engine #thomas and friends #transmissions from the little western #discussions #writings #knowing and perceiving the truth #hank #thomas #meta #little westssays

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