#travis hackett [a good boy]

[lee-ventur]

[vincedoll]

Travi-

[sheriff-t-money]

@densofyarrow from here.

It was honestly amazing how fast this young woman before him could increase his blood pressure. He'd responded to overdoses, suicides, and broken up more than his fair share of bar brawls. Her? She tested his damned patience like no one and nothing before.

Before he can tell her just what she can do, she lists off a number of things not currently relevant to her situation. That blood pressure continues to climb. It causes him to grit his jaw tightly, the pressure making his jaw pop audibly.

When she suggests something actually plausible, he gives a slight shake of his head. "There ain't no way in Hell I'm giving you a portable camp stove." He let the sentence hang for a moment. "But maybe I can," he glances down at the tray with the messy sandwiches on it, "change up the menu."

She didn't know, after all, that this was coming right out of his pocket. No taxpayers were funding these meals. Money was tight at home, but . . . he could think of something. Cut back on his own dining out . . . show up for dinner at home more.

The thought made him uneasy. One of the perks of earning his own income, a decent income as far as he was concerned, was the ability to use it to put some space between himself and his family. Space was good when you had a mother like Constance Hackett.

As the gears in his mind worked, he ran his tongue along his bottom lip in thought. Decision made, he straightened and pulled out his notebook and pencil. Tapping the tip to his tongue, he pressed it to the paper.

"Any allergies I should know about?" he asked, loud enough for Brinly to hear, too.

[auburngods]

yeah thanks for returning him

is THIS your man? [shows an image of a malnourished injured exhausted man with big sad eyes looking up at the camera with blood smeared all over his face and mouth. and he is visibly trembling]

[stagbeetleboy]

On the birthday card you can find at the police station it says something like “you’re a good boy Travis”. Which comes back when his mother flips her shit and calls him a “bad boy” for fucking up.

But when he has Laura and Max imprisoned he also calls Max a good boy when he finally complies. Which got me thinking about how that’s very telling. Like he literally associates being a good boy with obedience.

Like that totally just sums up his conflict, being a good boy is loyalty to his family (like a guard dog) rather than doing things that are correct or rational.

Like Chris Hackett is the werewolf but Travis Hackett is the dog.

I have brain rot I’m literally thinking about how the affirmation that he’s a good boy must have been used against him by the family he just wanted to protect for yearsss.

His dad only comforts Bobby when their mother dies even though Travis is also in the room with them. :((((

[sufferthesea]

Flash Fiction Friday #18 (The Quarry)

Word: Rumor

Pairing: Travis Hackett x Reader, Travis Hackett x You

Warnings: Mentions of verbal abuse/trauma, abusive parents. This went from a character study to a meet-cute.

There was a rumor around town that something strange was going on with the Hackett family. They had always been a strange bunch, but things had really gotten weird in the last few years. 

Travis had always been on edge, even when he was just grocery shopping or walking around town. He now seemed more than on edge. It felt like he could explode at any given time. If someone said the wrong word, made the wrong face at him, breathed too loudly … But what could have happened that would have changed him so much? 

Perhaps it had just been too much, living with that family. You knew that the Hackett matriarch was far from motherly. You’d heard her screaming from inside the cars the Hackett boys used to drive her around. She never had a kind word to say. And her sons, Chris and Travis, always looked so defeated whenever they came into town. Occasionally, they’d loosen up after a while, if they didn’t have their mother breathing down their neck, but it never lasted long. As soon as they hit the checkout line, or finished their meal, or caught sight of their car parked in the lot, they tensed up. Shoulders, jaws, everything. 

The Hackett boys simply could not rest with their mother around. 

It had always been like that, though. People loved to gossip in town, and no one gossiped more than waitresses and bartenders. You’d visited one of Fishkill’s only cafes almost daily and gotten an earful about the Hacketts every time. The gossip only stopped when Chris or Travis would come in, though they never stayed for long. If they weren’t picking up a meal to go, they were sitting in a corner booth, eyes down, staring coldly into their drinks. It always felt like a forest when a bobcat is hiding – like everything is holding its breath, waiting for the predator to pounce. 

You knew neither Travis nor Chris were predators, though. They were kind, even if they were a little rough around the edges. Travis more so than Chris. Chris got to practice his people skills by running the summer camp up at Hackett’s Quarry, but Travis was mostly stuck dealing with lost tourists and kids trespassing on private property. Maybe he had a reason to be so grumpy all the time. He rarely saw the good side of humanity. He always had to deal with the side of the community that everyone else tried to hide. 

Protect and Serve. That was the motto of the police force. How much of a toll did that take on a person? You wondered if Travis ever felt like he was the only person keeping Fishkill safe. If he kept like he was the only person keeping his family safe. You hated to admit it, but he was probably right. Who else would put their lives on the line for the Hackett parents? They were sour-faced and sharp-tongued. It must’ve been hard growing up in a home like that, to still be tied to it even as an adult. You couldn’t imagine what Travis and Chris must’ve done to survive that house. 

The not-knowing was killing you, but you didn’t dare go up to Chris or Travis and ask them about their lives, especially not their childhood. It wasn’t your business, and you doubted you’d even get an answer from them. It’d also blow up any chance you had to actually getting to know them, particularly Travis. You couldn’t be so nosy with such a reserved man like that. One false step and he’d retreat back into his shell and ignore you forever. (You’d seen him do that with one or two people from Fishkill who’d asked too many questions that Travis didn’t like.) There was really only one thing you could do to get on his good side. 

You waited until a day where Travis was alone in the cafe, sitting in the booth, waiting to order. Chris wasn’t anywhere in sight, and you were secretly grateful for that. Chris talked enough for the both of them if someone started a conversation, but that meant Travis had a means of escape. A chatty brother allowed Travis to never say a word, which was not what you wanted. 

You waved a waitress over and ordered a coffee, asking her to send it over to Travis. She gave you a funny look and quirked an eyebrow. 

“You sure you want to do that?” 

“Yes,” you said firmly. 

“You trying to get him to open up to you? It won’t work.” 

“I’m just trying to be nice. I’m sure he could use a nice gesture.” 

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, sweetheart.” 

“Just send him a coffee, will you? And I’d like my check, please.” 

The waitress shrugged and left to get a coffee. She dropped the check off at your table, and the coffee at Travis’s. He looked up at her, momentarily confused. You could see he was trying to work out why she’d brought him a coffee when he hadn’t ordered yet. Then, he seemed to just accept that the waitress knew his order, because he didn’t even ask her why she’d brought it to him. He just took a sip of the black coffee and ordered his food. 

The waitress glanced over at you, shrugged, and mouthed, “I told you so.” 

Your face burned with embarrassment, but you pushed it down. You weren’t here to get praise or to be seen as some type of hero. You just wanted to do a nice gesture. Maybe the coffee was a little too subtle, but it didn’t matter. You still knew about it, and that’s all that mattered. 

You fumbled through your wallet for exact change when a voice startled you. 

“Are you the one that sent me that coffee?” 

Your attention snapped upward to the towering figure of Travis Hackett, who now stood beside your booth. You swallowed hard at the sight of him so close. It occurred to you that he’d never actually spoken directly to you before. 

“Yes,” you managed. 

His cold eyes studied you for a moment, as if he were trying to assess if you were a problem. He must have decided you weren’t because he stonily said, “Thank you.” 

You beamed. “You’re wel–” 

“Don’t do it again.” 

“Oh. I’m sorry.” 

“I can buy my own coffee.” 

You blushed in embarrassment. “I know that. But you shouldn’t have to. You do a lot to keep this community safe, so … I just thought it’d be nice.” 

“It was nice, but I don’t want you spending your money on me. Understand?” 

“Yes,” you said in a small voice. It felt like you were being reprimanded by a teacher. 

“Good. Have a safe rest of your day.” He returned to his booth and sat down, the waitress arriving nearly at the same time to give him his food. As she passed by your booth, you shoved the soft paper bills and loose change at her. 

“Here.” 

“Don’t need it.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Your bill’s already been covered.” The corners of her mouth twisted in a knowing smirk. 

“By who?” 

“Guess.” 

You glanced across the cafe at Travis, who didn’t look up once. You turned back to the waitress. “Are you serious?” 

“I never thought I’d live to see the day. Don’t go getting a big head about it, now, though. You go blabbing about it, he’ll never do it again.” 

“Cross my heart. Will you tell him I said thank you?” 

“Nope. I’m gonna pretend I don’t know anything about it. But you go on ahead and get out of here before he regrets doing it.” 

You stuffed the money back into your bag and leaped up from the booth. You tried your hardest (and mostly failed) to not look at Travis one last time before you left the cafe. Maybe Travis wouldn’t be so hard to get to know as everyone thought it would be.

[a-carnie-and-a-cop]

let me fix that

"Travis has done SOME wrong things in his life"

there you go

Travis has never done anything wrong in his whole entire life.

[ghostradiodylan]

I don’t ship Travis Hackett with anyone (except maybe the shotgun 💀 acab), but I feel like the echoes of compulsory heterosexuality are showing when so many people choose to ship him with Laura when Max is right there being ordered to get naked and called a good boy and calling Travis ‘T-Money’ and everything. Like, if you’re into cops unlawfully kidnapping people as the basis of a ship (which, again, I very much am not) there’s a much more flavorful option just sitting there untouched.

[queenofbaws]

WHOOOOOOOO well this week sees one project crossed off my list, so if you've been waiting for bad moon rising to close before checking it out, great news! it is COMPLETE! 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

i'm working on getting back into the groove of like wringing blood from a stone, and in the meantime, i'm taking a page out of my good friend @unicornaffair's book and working on a sneaky little something-something that takes place in the same universe while i go about rereading and touching up my outlines for the main event ;)c if you're interested in what THAT might be, well...there's a little peek under the readmore :P

as always, i hope everyone out there is doing as well as they can, and that you're being nice to yourselves <3 shit is and continues to be...pretty rough out there, so remember to go easy on yourselves when you can <3 (god knows i'm trying lmao)

something that comes BEFORE like wringing blood from a stone...and all in the family too >:)c

Ever since he was a kid, Chris has had the reputation of being the most approachable of the Hackett boys. That isn’t to say his brothers aren’t known and loved in North Kill proper—they are—but his is the quickest smile and the easiest laugh. When there’s an event in town, he’s the first to volunteer a helping hand and the last to stick around, putting folding chairs away. He doesn’t hold himself with the same stiffness Travis does, doesn’t blot out the sun the way Bobby does, and there’s just something about him that makes a person want to pop him on the shoulder and invite him to a barbecue.

To you, he’s the least approachable of the three. But that’s your issue, not his.

You’re too old and too crickety to do any sneaking; even so, he makes a big to-do of staggering back and clutching his chest when you walk up on him from behind, clapping him once between the shoulder blades.

“Aw dang, folks,” he laughs, “looks like they finally caught up with me. All right, Sheriff, I know how this goes…load me up into the paddy wagon, I’m sick and tired of runnin’.” There’s laughter, and then he slings his own arm around your shoulders, the two of you locked in a jokey side-hug. If there’s any apprehension between you, it’s not on his part; the smile he flashes you is warm and wide and squinches the corners of his eyes. “I was just bragging to everybody about how cool it is, hosting our very own fairground.”

You smile back, but you have to imagine it’s a dim thing compared to his. “That so?”

“Yessir! Y’know, here I am, constantly fighting tooth and nail to convince Ma and Pa they oughta let us expand a little, put some of this acreage to use, and whammo! One day I wake up and we got a circus in our backyard!” He chuckles, the sound warmer even than his grin, then raises his free hand to the group he’d been talking to, excusing himself in that cordial, down-home way Jed and Constance taught him. “Heck of a thing, isn’t it, Sheriff Hank? No permits, no permission, no nothin’…hoo-wee, if you’d seen the way Ma hit the roof this morning…”

Around you, the clearing is alive with the sounds of amusement: the oohs and ahhs of an audience watching a contortionist, screams of delight as the fire eaters make their meals, the distant bleating of petting zoo animals made uninteresting by the farmland and farmhands around them, the pop and crackle of food cooking in fryers. Children beg their parents for five more minutes, just five, young men heckle each other endlessly as their friends fail to win their sweethearts teddy bears from rigged games, and, somewhere deeper in the woods, somewhere where the sun has already set completely, a lone coyote yips.

You only hear part of it. A fraction. For your part, you’re in Hackett House, wood-paneled and still. Chris has that effect on you, you’ve found, which is more than slightly ironic, all considering. He was the only one of the boys who ever managed to leave it.

[a-muscle-the-size-of-your-fist]

MUSE LIST - THE QUARRY

Robert "Bobby" Hackett - Gray Asexual Biromantic Monogamous Cis Male - 44 - FC: Ethan Suplee/Game Model

Name: Robert Jason Hackett

Nicknames: Bobby

Faceclaim: Ethan Suplee/Game Model

Age: 44

Height: 6'9″

Gender: Cis Male

Sexuality: Gray Asexual Biromantic, Monogamous

Species: Human

Werepire AU Species: Human

Hair Color: Brown

Eye Color: Brown

Occupation: Unemployed, Receives Veteran SSI Benefits; Hunter; Works in the Junkyard on-and-off

Headcanon Masterlist

Bobby is a very sweet man if he knows and cares for you. He wants to help others rather than cause harm, as he'd had enough of that when he was enlisted. All he wants is to help his family, and he feels as though he cannot do that without getting involved in the hunting. He wants to protect the councilors, but he knows he cannot do it with all of them. He is very strong and resilient, and can take several shotgun blasts to his body.

Christopher "Chris" Hackett - Heterosexual Heteroromantic Monogamous Cis Male - 47 - FC: David Arquette/Game Model

Name: Christopher Martin Hackett

Nicknames: Chris

Faceclaim: David Arquette/Game Model

Age: 47

Height: 5'9″

Gender: Cis Male

Sexuality: Heterosexual Heteroromantic Monogamous

Species: Human

Werepire AU Species: Werewolf

Hair Color: Brown, salt and pepper

Eye Color: Brown

Occupation: Runs a summer camp, also runs the quarry as a hunting/fishing spot

Headcanon Masterlist

Chris loves his family dearly and wants them to be safe. When he wolfed out and was dropped into the room with Bobby, Travis, Laura, and Ryan, he was knocked unconscious by Bobby. Laura was caged by Travis and Bobby, and Ryan was enlisted to help with Chris. He remained in the cage until it was over, and he didn't want to see his family for what he'd done. He mourned his children for a long time, knowing that they passed so suddenly without him there to ease their pain.

Dylan Lenivy - Homosexual Homoromantic Ambigamous Cis Male - 20 - FC: Miles Robbins/Game Model

Name: Dylan Michael Lenivy

Nicknames: DJ Dylan, Dylan-Dylan

Faceclaim: Miles Robbins/Game Model

Age: 20

Height: 5'11″

Gender: Cis Male

Sexuality: Homosexual Homoromantic, Ambigamous

Species: Human

Werepire AU Species: Werewolf

Hair Color: Brown

Eye Color: Brown

Occupation: Ex-College Student; Podcast/Radio Host

Headcanon Masterlist

Dylan has always been a bit of a bookworm but fell into his persona of an edgy, funny socialite at camp due to nerves. He can put on a great show but still loves his alone time and time to tinker with this. During their last night at Camp, Ryan ultimately cut off his left hand to prevent the infection from spreading, and it is a constant reminder to Dylan that he went through something pretty harrowing. He is still close with Ryan and really likes him, though his fear of rejection keeps him from making any concrete moves on him. He still flirts despite this, and is always game if Ryan initiates, but his boldness wanes if Ryan isn't giving him 100% Good Signals.

Jacob "Jake" Custos - Pansexual Panromantic Ambigamous Transmale - 21 - FC: Zach Tinker

Name: Jacob Michael Custos

Nicknames: Jake, Jakey, Jakey Boy, Hurricane Jake, Assclown (Laura Exclusive)

Faceclaim: Zach Tinker/Game Model

Age: 21

Height: 6'0″

Gender: Transmale

Sexuality: Pansexual Panromantic, Ambigamous

Species: Human

Werepire AU Species: Werewolf

Hair Color: Brown

Eye Color: Brown

Occupation: College Student

Headcanon Masterlist

Despite everything, Jacob is still head over heels for Emma. He wants to do whatever he can to hold onto her, even if he's sort of accepted that she has moved on. He remains close to Nick and Dylan, and by extension Ryan. He was bitten by Max on the island with Emma, and has a draw to him when he turns, and slowly when they aren't turned. His mark is on the back of his neck, and acts as something of a pseudo-mating mark. Being so helplessly romantic, he's willing to accept anyone's attention, as long as they will love him. Emma made him wonder if he's just unloveable, and he took it to heart.

Maxwell "Max" Brinly - Bisexual Biromantic Ambigamous Transmale - 22 - FC: Skyler Gisondo/Game Model

Name: Maxwell Carson Brinly

Nicknames: Max, Honey, Mister, Golden Thunder

Faceclaim: Skyler Gisondo/Game Model

Age: 22

Height: 5′11″

Gender: Cis Male

Sexuality: Bisexual Biromantic, Ambigamous

Species: Human

Werepire AU Species: Werewolf

Hair Color: Red

Eye Color: Slate Blue

Occupation: 

Headcanon Masterlist

After becoming a werewolf, Max got a little colder around strangers. He feels like a monster and tries to avoid people in the days leading up to the full moon. He hates how aggressive and wild he becomes without thinking because he's always been a sweet, nonconfrontational kind of guy. He and Laura drive around looking for an alternate cure for his affliction, occasionally making pitstops away from people so he can wolf out. He still loves Laura to the moon and back, but he struggles with trusting her.

[hashioki7]

They are reborn, and meet again

After that incident, Travis and Laura, who didn't come together due to the age difference, what if they reincarnate and become the same age?

This is the flash fiction with a strong emphasis on original settings. Please note.

Travis Hackett sat down on a bench placed along the park's tree-lined path and took a paperback book out of his bag. It was one he had borrowed from the library there earlier.

The day, now approaching early summer in May, was beautifully clear with a gentle breeze, offering a pleasant warmth. Travis thought it would be better to read outside than to be cooped up in the dark, gloomy atmosphere of the municipal library.

The trees overhead were adorned with fresh green leaves, and Travis took in the scent of the foliage deeply. It was truly lovely weather. Somehow, today felt like something good was going to happen.

Feeling like he wanted to enjoy this fine weather a little longer, Travis pushed up his glasses and glanced at the people passing by. A young man jogging, an elderly woman walking her dog, a young couple strolling arm in arm - people of all ages were passing by. It was a calm and ordinary scene, one that Travis enjoyed.

But then, something appeared to disturb the peace, and he furrowed his brow. A group of high school boys from the same school was approaching, making a raucous noise. Travis considered ignoring them and focusing on his book, but he couldn't overlook what he saw, so he stood up involuntarily.

"Hey, throw your trash in the bin properly," Travis called out.

The boys, suddenly being admonished, looked back at Travis with bewildered expressions.

"Who's this guy?"

"He's that gloomy dude from our grade, Hackett."

"Ah…" the leader of the group sneered.

"If you've got time to meddle with us, why don't you go read a book quietly, mama's boy?"

Before Travis could retort, a voice called out from afar, "Travis!" When the high school boys all turned to look, a blonde girl with a ponytail was running towards them, smiling.

She was a stranger to Travis. Who could she be? Travis was puzzled.

The high school boys seemed to feel a bit awkward. They glanced at each other, shrugged, and then left without saying a word.

What remained were only Travis and the mysterious blonde girl. Was she around the same age as him? Travis observed the girl closely as she caught her breath in front of him, her flushed cheeks glowing.

Though he looked at her face repeatedly, he couldn't recall ever seeing her before. Yet, Travis felt as though he knew her somehow. Her straight blue eyes, the front teeth that showed when she smiled, the ponytail swaying on her back - it all felt oddly familiar, stirring a strange sense of nostalgia and unease in him.

…Unease? Why? Despite not understanding why, Travis felt that this girl would bring trouble. Yet, even that sense of unease felt oddly nostalgic.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Don't you remember me?"

The girl seemed shocked. But then, she shook her head and muttered, "Well, it's been quite a while… That's how it goes," to herself. He had no memory of ever being friends with such a cute and energetic girl. Could they have been in the same nursery together?

"I'm Laura. Laura Kearney," she said, extending her hand towards Travis, who furrowed his brows in thought.

"Because you'd been older, it took me a while to catch up." Though he didn't quite understand its meaning, Travis found himself compelled by the sparkling smile in her eyes, and he instinctively returned the gesture by gently squeezing her hand.

[theartofdreaming1]

well howdy! hope you're doing well ^_^ for the wip asks, how about 🧠 & 🖊?

🧠 What’s an idea you have that you can’t quite call a WIP yet?

Well, since I'm currently back on fixating on OUAT/Captain Swan, I've got some CS ideas floating around in my brain... One I kinda already outlined here and then I've had a niggling idea of a Modern/Mermaid AU (scientist breaking out a captive mermaid is somehow calling out to me, I dunno)

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.

Y'know, I think I'll post 2 snippets, just because I feel like it ;)

The beginning of the next chapter of "This Is Not Over, But Just the Beginning":

Chris Hackett led Laura to a hidden room inside the lodge that could only be accessed through a closet in his quarters. (At this point, there was no denying that this guy was related to Travis — what was it with the Hacketts and their ridiculous, over-the-top attempts at secrecy?!?) The cramped hideaway into which the camp leader owner ushered Laura only contained a cluttered desk and chair, a pinboard that had a few notes and photographs attached to it and a few filing cabinets. “There you go,” Chris Hackett said, his eyes scanning the room, “you should be safe here.” Laura wasn’t exactly convinced that their definitions of ‘safe’ were exactly the same, but she guessed that “creepy-ass hick-bunker” was about as safe as she could get in Werewolf Territory™️.  “Sure.”

And an excerpt of a Batman/Bruce Wayne birthday story I've been working for quite some time and I really love how this particular segment turned out (even if it made me cry while I was writing it):

Once his bedroom door had clicked shut and the sound of Alfred’s receding footsteps had made it clear that he was alone, Bruce poked his head out of his blanket cocoon. The now nine-year-old boy rubbed his red-rimmed eyes warily before his gaze landed on the breakfast tray on his bedside table. In the center of the tray, the customary cupcake with its lit candle drew Bruce’s attention. With empty eyes the boy observed droplets of wax making their way down the small striped candle, prevented from spilling onto the immaculate frosting only by a small plastic candle holder. It didn’t take long until the candle holder was completely caked in wax, each new droplet more likely than the next to finally run over and mar Bruce’s perfect birthday cupcake.  Bruce’s gaze flicked towards the dancing flame; to prevent this tarnish, he’d only have to blow out the candle and make a wish -- No. There was only one thing Bruce wished for, with all his heart, and this wish, he knew, could never come true. The expression on the young boy’s face hardened. Determinedly, he turned around, his back now to the cupcake and candle as he settled back into his blankets. It wasn’t long until the smell of a snuffed-out candle reached Bruce’s nose. ‘Good,’ the boy thought grimly. There was nothing happy about this birthday anyway.

[sheriff-t-money]

headcanon: 003

The police force.

So, obviously we know that Travis worked as an officer before he became Sheriff of North Kill county. We don't know how long he worked as a cop. For my own canon, I believe he signed up around 21 years of age.

We're led to believe North Kill is a relatively small, rural, town. We don't know its exact population (although if someone DOES know, by all means give me the details!). However, if it's on the smaller side, then that means the police department doesn't have as much funding as a county that's large.

Police departments receive funding from property taxes. The more and bigger properties there are, the more money the department has to hire workers, purchase resources, and maintain safety vehicles and infrastructure.

North Kill's police department is likely small. Including Travis as the sheriff, I imagine there may be three or four other police officers in the county. This isn't uncommon. Most police departments actually have around 10 police officers or fewer.

I wouldn't even be surprised if Travis had to wait a few years until he could join because the county just couldn't hire anyone until someone retired.

So, why would Travis want to join the police force? It's not a safe job even in a quiet town like North Kill. I think there are several reasons.

One, it gave him authority. As someone who was abused and continues to face abuse, authority is something stripped from him. He wanted it back. Being an officer of the law provided that opportunity.

Two, it got him out of the house. Police officers work odd hours. It's easy for him to spend a lot of time on patrol or just in the station rather than at home. He's able to provide and protect his family while also limiting his time there. That's a bonus for him.

Three, he likes being able to protect people. If there's one thing that's obvious about Travis, it's that he's a protector. He doesn't always protect the right individual or protect in the right way, but he is a protector. Those are some honed instincts that seem natural to him. Being a big brother also puts him in that role naturally. He thinks he's good at it. Doesn't mean he is. But he THINKS he is. Being an officer allows him to protect people outside of his own family, and I think he likes that, too.

Four, power. Travis is a Hackett. For a long time, Hacketts had a lot of power. That power has dwindled over the years, but the desire for it hasn't faded. Power is addictive and feels damn good. For a man who doesn't typically feel good, having power is a balm.

Five, companionship. Travis pegs me as a bit of an introvert or ambivert. He has that sort of introverted social awkwardness that goes with the territory (as spoken by a socially awkward introvert). But even introverts need a bit of human contact. Like a little, little bit. Since the Hacketts appear quite insular, it's likely that he only had a few fair-weather friends growing up. Most of those friends likely came through the summer camp (more headcanons on that later!). They came. They went. As an officer, he was able to rub elbows with men and women of the law. Consistently. He may not have exactly discovered his found family per se, but it's a group of people a hell of a lot healthier than the relationships he has at home. I also think that ability to have connected to people outside of home, consistently, is why he isn't "at the bottom of the well" with the rest of his family. They helped him keep to his moral compass (as shaky and grey as his morality already was).

Now, with all the reasons why Travis may have wanted to join up, let's examine what he went through during his training. I'm pulling this information from NYPD which likely has longer training hours than most other counties due to the particulars of crime in New York City. But I imagine the training courses, themselves, are similar throughout the state of New York if not the country.

Travis would have received academic, tactical, firearm, driver, and some other miscellaneous training in the academy.

Academic studies include:

Crisis intervention

Response to individuals with mental health and substance abuse issues

Investigation of domestic abuse

Assisting victims of crime

Preservation of crime scenes

Response and investigation of vehicle collisions and building collapses

Organizing searches for missing individuals

I think we see his academic training come into play through the game. To me, Travis is exceptionally good at compartmentalizing. I think that also stems from his abusive relationship with his mother. To survive, he had to compartmentalize.

This likely also explains some of his behavior in the game. Why he's able to switch so easily from one instance to the other or seemingly turn off his emotions at a given moment. He has to in order to keep a clear head and respond rationally to a dangerous situation.

Tactical studies include:

Calisthenics (strength training via body weight, ie: lunges, push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups, etc.)

Defensive tactics

Straight baton

Extendable baton

Frisking and cuffing

First aid

CPR

Water safety skills

There were two moments in the game that really showed his defensive tactics at work. The first is in the Prologue. He responds just as a well-trained officer would when he asks Laura to step out of the car. He does not turn his back on Max or Laura. He walks backward.

Secondly, he also doesn't turn his back on his mother. When it's clear she's about to get into one of her "moods," he does not turn his back on her. He is defending himself.

These tactics are also on display when he's defending others. During the tense scene when Constance turns the light out so Laura can't shoot anyone, he turns the light back on. He makes the room a safer environment because ain't no one should be shooting guns in the dark. Duh.

When he barges into the room with Laura and Jed (and possibly Constance if she's alive), he makes himself the bigger target. He draws attention to himself to defend the others in the room.

Now, let's talk about first aid. There are a few moments where Travis gets a bit touchy-touchy with Laura. I personally think he's touch-starved (another headcanon on that later). That doesn't make his touchiness right. I'm just trying to explain where it comes from.

He touches her rather . . . shall we say familiarly? . . . in two scenes. The first is in the Prologue when she bumps her head. He produces his handkerchief and attempts to clean the wound. Does he also make it a bit creepy? Yup. You might find it endearing, you might not. He's an awkward man who likely wanted to try and ensure she wasn't actually bleeding under the dirt (because head trauma is a serious thing that a lot of people just brush off) but did so in the most awkward way possible.

The second is when she's sleeping after bandaging her eye. We see his hand come up, slightly hover over her injury, and attempt to peel back the bandage. She wakes up, and he draws back. Again, a familiar touch. Best to have woken her up first. I don't think he was here looking to softly caress a cheek while the beautiful damsel was sleeping. He just wanted to see what the heck had happened to her eye and whether she required first aid.

Should he have asked when she was awake? Absolutely. But based on their past interactions, he probably thought she'd fight him on that, too, and next thing you know . . . infection and hospitalization. And he needs to keep them both out of the hospital.

Finally, it's my headcanon that Travis was already pretty proficient at CPR and water safety skills before entering the academy. He was likely a summer camp counselor, and he's a bit of a wiry lad from the start, so being a lifeguard just makes sense to me.

This was a big headcanon post with bunches of little headcanons in there, too, so thanks for having the patience to read it all!

[boomstickbvtcher]

Me 0.01 seconds before I call Travis Hackett a good boy

can i call that middle aged man good boy if im way younger than him

[lostuserr]

[cthrinenord]

Уставший от жизни Трэвис.

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Travis is tired of life.